Rules in Rescue

by Nichole Severn

  “Didn’t I warn you not to come after me?” Bennett lowered his hands.

  Anthony tightened his grip around the Beretta as the sergeant rose. One small move. That was all it would take and this entire recovery would be a thing of the past.

  “Damn it, Bennett. Did you really think a warning would stop me from coming after you?” Tension tightened the tendon in Glennon’s neck as she straightened. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t arrest you right here, right now.”

  “You mean aside from the fact you don’t have any proof I was part of Mascaro’s operation? Come on, Glennon. You and I both know you’d be wasting your time. I’m a lot smarter than I look. Besides, we’re on the same side. Mascaro’s organization wants me dead as much as they want you. Maybe even more.” Bennett studied her from head to toe, his expression cold. Calculating. Danger beneath smooth waters. A man who’d chosen treason over his country always had an escape plan in case things went south. So what was Bennett’s? “What I can do is help you bring down Mascaro’s crew for good. Interested?”

  Confusion cracked Glennon’s stone-cold control. “Why would you help us?”

  “He’s trying to avoid prison time.” Anthony maneuvered between Glennon and her partner. He’d stand between her and any threat. Always. Not because they were partners in this investigation. But because it was her. “He wants to strike a deal with the new marshal when the investigation is over.”

  Couldn’t blame him. If the army could connect Bennett with any of the crimes Mascaro and his operatives had been accused of, he’d never see the light of day again. A large part of Anthony reveled in that idea. Bennett had dragged Glennon—and her son—into this mess, had put her in the crosshairs. Then again, the sergeant had also saved her life. Twice.

  A rumbling laugh escaped Bennett’s throat. “I’m not going to prison, Ranger. Like I said, I’m smarter than I look.” He crossed his muscled arms over his chest, shifting his weight between his feet. “Actually, I just plan to systematically kill every last one of those bastards. From the bottom hit man to the woman giving orders at the top.”

  Anthony’s gaze focused on Bennett. Woman?

  Glennon took a single step forward. Grip still wrapped around her weapon, she narrowed her gaze. “What woman?”

  “Jamie Mascaro,” Bennett said.

  Anthony ran through Glennon’s investigation notes in his head. “Staff Sergeant Mascaro’s wife?”

  “Bingo.” Bennett uncrossed his arms, one hand facing toward Glennon and the other reaching for something in his leather jacket pocket. “And I’ve got the proof. Turns out she set her husband up from the beginning. She tipped the marshal off to the crew’s extracurricular activities and put her husband front and center in our investigation. But then our CO decided to take a cut himself, but that’s a story for another day.” The sergeant offered Anthony a piece of paper, his attention cutting to Glennon as she maneuvered beside him. “She’s a piece of work if you ask me. Kind of reminds me of you, Glennon. Only you’re not evil.”

  “Let’s say I believe you about being on Jamie Mascaro’s bad side. You found out who’d taken Nicholas Mascaro’s place at the head of the operation.” Glennon studied the evidence as Anthony unfolded the beaten sheet of paper. “And that’s the only reason they’re hunting us down? Why you disappeared?”

  A photo of a blonde woman—maybe thirty-five, forty years old—standing beside a military-marked crate, surrounded by soldiers, stared up at him. In her hands? An M4 assault rifle, same make and model of the shipment of missing weapons Glennon and Bennett had gone chasing in the first place. Jamie Mascaro. The woman most certainly knew of her husband’s criminal activities, despite what her testimony had revealed during the staff sergeant’s trial.

  “Not exactly.” Bennett tugged a hand through the gelled brown hair at the back of his neck. “That would be because I was one of Nicholas Mascaro’s lieutenants. And Jamie there—” he nodded at the photo “—is cleaning house.”

  * * *

  HER PARTNER HAD been one of Staff Sergeant Mascaro’s men. Just as the marshal had claimed. Bennett had told them everything. How he’d faked his GPS data to draw out Jamie Mascaro to the abandoned house that belonged to her husband, how he’d waited there for the sniper who’d put a bullet in Glennon’s shoulder then taken him out, and how he’d gotten through Anthony’s security system at the cabin. Twice. All of it. Felony after felony stacked against the man she’d once considered her closest friend. Because this investigation couldn’t get any worse.

  Sweat lessened her grip on her Glock before she finally clicked on the safety and tossed it onto the bed. She’d just needed a minute to herself. Alone, Glennon dropped her head back against the bedroom door. Dark, rumpled sheets claimed her attention. She’d broken her only rule. She’d lost her emotional distance and fallen into bed with the one man she’d sworn to keep at arm’s length. Yet at the same time Anthony had given her a glimpse of everything she’d ever wanted: a real family. A second chance.

  Then Bennett had to ruin her short reprieve and everything else she’d believed the last few days. He was involved with the very people trying to kill her, but she couldn’t prove it. Other than his admission, which she hadn’t gotten on tape, he’d covered his tracks too well. But did she really want to? Bennett was the one man who could bring down Mascaro’s crew for good. An insider. With his intel, they could disassemble the entire operation and secure weapons shipments all over the country. The investigation would be over. She could put in her discharge papers. She could move on with her life.

  Glennon shoved away from the door, throwing her discarded clothing onto the bed.

  A soft knock spun her around. “You okay?”

  Anthony.

  Her feet dragged as she headed to the door. Twisting the knob, she faced off with a wall of pure, seductive muscle. Dressed in a pair of low-hanging jeans and a black T-shirt, he was far sexier with his hair out of place and a little frightening with his hard, determined expression. She straightened a bit more, pressed her lips together and nodded once. “I’m fine.”

  A lie. What about the past three days had been fine? Hell, the last two hours had turned her entire world upside down. But he didn’t need to know that. Her partner going missing hadn’t broken her. Leaving her son hadn’t broken her. Bennett’s flat-out betrayal hadn’t broken her. This thing with Anthony? That wouldn’t break her, either.

  Those deep, dark eyes narrowed on her. What did he see when he looked at her like that? How close she was to splintering apart? Could he see the cracks in her defenses widening? “You think I can’t see it when you lie to me, but I do.”

  Heat climbed up her neck and into her face. Goose bumps rose on her arms as a blast of warm air descended from the vent in the ceiling. She cleared her throat. “What are you talking abou—?”

  “You’re already pulling away,” he said.

  “I meant what I said outside.” Glennon swallowed hard as she leveled her chin parallel with the floor. “I won’t have you come into my life—into my son’s life—then disappear when you decide your duty is more important than we are.”

  “Is that what you think of me? That you’re temporary? That I’ll get bored? That this doesn’t mean anything?” Growling, he closed in on her, fire replacing the cold depths in his eyes. “I took you to bed. No other woman can say the same. That means everything to me, Glennon. It means...you’re mine.”

  His? Her breath caught. She forced her fingers to uncurl from her palms. He hadn’t taken any other woman to bed? Ever? Warmth flooded her. She fought to think. To breathe. He was right. That did mean something. Her focus shifted to her engagement ring hanging around his neck. He’d never stopped believing they could be happy together.

  “It meant something to me, too.” The words left her mouth in a mere whisper as pain knifed through her. She’d learned a long time ago that those closest could t
urn on her in an instant. Her father. Bennett. Even Anthony had played an important role in building her defenses. And she wasn’t sure she could survive that devastation again. She forced herself to take a step back when all she wanted was for him to wrap his arms around her. “But did you forget we’ve been through this before?”

  His brows drew inward, tugging at the scrape across his forehead. His pulse beat unevenly at the base of his throat, eyelids heavier than a moment ago. Exhaustion pulled at his expression. Dirt still clung to his hairline. “We’re not the same people we were back then. There’s more at risk now. More reason to give us a shot.”

  Because of Hunter. Glennon exhaled hard. Her son had gone four years without a father in his life, someone other than her to count on. Anthony was right. They had a lot more to lose now. Maybe that was all they needed to finally make this work between them. She could, at last, give Hunter the real family he deserved. “Hunter and I... We’re not some mission you can complete.” She dragged her tongue across her lips, her mouth dry. “We need someone in it for the long haul.”

  “Have you ever known me as anything other than dedicated?” He lowered his mouth to hers but paused. “I dare you to find someone who loves you more than I do, sweetheart.”

  Her army-issue phone vibrated on the nightstand a few feet away.

  The breath she’d been holding rushed from her lungs. Saved by the bell. Crossing the room, Glennon caught the number before one last ring. Blocked. She hit the green button and brought the phone to her ear. “Special Agent Chase—”

  “I assume you know who I am,” a female voice said.

  Glennon turned to Anthony. Dropping the phone from her ear, she tapped the speaker button.

  Confusion deepened the lines across his forehead as he inched closer.

  “Jamie Mascaro.” Glennon stared at the phone, ticking off the seconds on the screen. Thirty seconds. That was all she needed for Blackhawk Security to trace the call. Thirty seconds and she could end this nightmare. “Unless you’re calling to apologize for sending three soldiers to kill me, I’m afraid we don’t have a lot to talk about.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s true, Sergeant Chase.” A light tapping sound echoed through the line. Fingernails on a desk? “See, you have something I want, a certain lieutenant from my husband’s command who knows too much and puts my entire operation at risk. I was hoping you and I could make a deal. You turn Sergeant Spencer over to me and I’ll call off the contract I put on your head.”

  Shadowed movement caught Glennon’s attention in her peripheral vision. Bennett. Inhaling slow and deep, she motioned him inside. He was part of this, too. And while she could give him up—put an end to this investigation and move on with her life—there were still lines she wasn’t willing to cross. Giving up her partner was one of them. No matter how much he might deserve it.

  Tense moments ticked past. This was it. They could do this. Together. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mrs. Mascaro, but I don’t make deals with crim—”

  Laughter cut through her words. Sinister. Dominating. “Please, Sergeant Chase. Call me Jamie. Because, despite what you might think, we’re about to become very well acquainted with one another. In fact, I’m willing to bet you’ll do just about anything I ask once you uncover the small insurance policy I took out to secure your cooperation.”

  Insurance policy? Glennon searched Anthony’s features. That full bottom lip, his dark blue eyes. Dread pooled at the base of her spine. Insurance—

  “Mommy?” Hunter’s voice crossed the line, draining the blood from her face.

  Anthony swore, the small muscles lining his jaw rock-hard.

  Her heart skipped a beat, the breath rushing from her lungs. Every muscle in her body threatened to fail. No. No, no, no, no. Her grip on the phone loosened as her knees buckled. The bedroom—and everyone in it—blurred. Rough hands caught her before she hit the floor, leading her to the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped with Anthony’s added weight. Her throat tightened. “Hunter?” She swallowed hard, closing her eyes. “Is that you?”

  “Mommy, I want to go home.” The desperation in her son’s small voice gutted her.

  Rage, white and hot, flooded through her. She opened her eyes. Her vision sharpened. She clung to the phone. Fifteen more seconds. Fifteen more seconds and she’d have a location. Forget bringing Anthony as backup. Glennon would rip the woman apart with her bare hands. “I’m coming, baby. I promise. Mommy is coming for you.”

  No answer.

  “Hunter?” Panic threatened to set in. Had Mascaro hung up? The timer on the screen read twenty seconds. Not enough time to trace the call. Glennon nearly shattered the phone, her pulse too loud in her ears.

  “Such a sweet little boy. It’d be a shame if he didn’t come home,” Jamie Mascaro said. “You know what I want, Sergeant Chase, and I know you’re tracing this call. All you have to do is bring me Sergeant Spencer and I will disclose your son’s location. You have my word.”

  The word of a criminal, a woman who’d turned on her own husband to take over his operation.

  Glennon studied Bennett. Deep brown eyes, darker than a few minutes ago, softened. His nod released the pressure in her chest. He’d turn himself over to Jamie Mascaro. For her. For Hunter. “If I find a single bruise on him when I find him, I will kill you.”

  “That will be entirely up to you, Sergeant,” Jamie Mascaro said. “Two hours. Come alone with Sergeant Spencer or your son pays the price.”

  The line went dead.

  “Well, this seems like a good time to give you two some privacy. And, you know, get my affairs in order before that woman puts a bullet in my head.” Bennett headed into the hallway, the jokes, the witty banter, his sarcasm, draining from his expression.

  Glennon tossed the phone onto the bed, numb. Jamie Mascaro had her son. Her hands shook, blood pressure dropping fast. Tears burned on her lower eyelashes a split second before another rush of fury swept through her. She ripped the bedside lamp off the table and hurled it at the wall. This was why she’d kept her son a secret. Why she hadn’t told his father about him. She forced her focus to Anthony. Helplessness threatened to consume her. She had to stay in the moment, stay in control. The second she gave in to those thoughts, Jamie Mascaro—and her organization of traitorous thieves—won. Running her palms down her bare thighs, Glennon rolled her lips between her teeth to keep from screaming. “She’s not going to hold up her end of the deal.”

  She was sure of it.

  “Then we’ve got two hours to find Hunter before the meeting.” The words came as a growl from Anthony’s throat. The veins in his arms swelled. Pure ice squelched the fire that had simmered in his gaze a moment ago, all evidence of the man she’d started falling in love with gone. The Grim Reaper had arrived, but this time, she wouldn’t try to hold him back. “I swear to you, I’ll get your son back.”

  “Good.” Glennon straightened. She had to tell him. If they were going to risk it all—if they were going to recover Hunter—she couldn’t lie to him anymore. She cleared her throat. “Because Hunter is your son, too.”

  Chapter Twelve

  There were only two things in life a person couldn’t take back. Bullets and words. The latter stuck with him now. Because Hunter is your son, too. She’d kept his son from him for four damn years. The little boy with the bright green eyes and wide smile. She’d kept his family from him. Rage exploded in his chest. But he couldn’t think about that right now. Not with Hunter out there. Afraid. In danger. Alone.

  “Don’t think we’re finished talking about this.” Anthony strode across the street toward her childhood home for the second time in twenty-four hours. No way in hell were they finished. In fact, they were just getting started.

  “Fine. You want to talk about this right now, with our son missing?” Glennon spun on her heel, shoving a hand against his chest in the middle of the street. Arctic temperat
ures formed crystalized puffs of air in front of her mouth, but the cold barely seemed to slow her down. “Yes, I kept him from you, just like I kept him from everyone else. I didn’t want the people I hunted for the military to ever have leverage over me, but apparently, everything I’ve done to keep him safe has all been for nothing. They found him. He’s out there—” tears welled in her eyes as she motioned toward the street “—all alone. Because of me.”

  “I could’ve protected him, Glennon. I could’ve prevented this from happening if you’d just told me the truth.” Devastation deepened the lines forged between her eyebrows, and his gut tightened. She blamed herself for this mess, but she wasn’t innocent. His fury burned hot and deep. First, she’d kept evidence crucial to identifying a suspect to herself. Second, kept the break in at her apartment back east from him. Now this. Jamie Mascaro would pay for what she’d done, but how was he supposed to trust Glennon now? Closing his fingers around her arms, Anthony forced her to look at him. “I’m only going to say this once, and I want you to believe every word. None of this—Bennett disappearing, the bullet in your shoulder, the accident, Hunter being kidnapped—is your fault. That’s on Jamie Mascaro, and she’s going to pay for the rest of her life. I’m going to make sure of it, but I can’t do my damn job when you’re keeping things from me.”

  “I should’ve been there for him.” The words were whispered from between her paling lips as though she hadn’t heard a single word he’d said. “I should’ve been the one keeping him safe. Maybe then, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “You were. You did everything in your power to make sure he couldn’t be connected to you.” He couldn’t keep this space between them any longer. Wrapping her in his arms, Anthony rested his chin on the crown of her head. She fit perfectly, almost as though they were two pieces of the same puzzle.