Intentional Risk (R.I.S.C. Book 4)

by Anna Blakely

  “That’s how it always had to be,” she whispered to the two men. “The cans must be evenly spaced. Their labels facing forward. And they were always to be in alphabetical order. If they weren’t, he’d...”

  Charlie’s bottom lip quivered as old memories bubbled to the surface, making it impossible for her to finish her thought. Thankfully, she didn’t need to.

  Derek wrapped his protective arms around her.

  “They think you did it.”

  He jerked back as though he’d been struck. “What?”

  Charlie looked up at him, her arms locked around his narrow waist. “A female detective spoke to me before you got here. Detective York. At first, I thought she was just keeping me company until Eric got back to the room, but then she started asking me all these questions about you. By the end, she was basically saying it’s been you all along. Your car, your house. Tonight.”

  Understandably angry from hearing that bit of news, Derek swung his gaze to Eric’s. “What the fuck?”

  Eric put both his hands palms-up. “I didn’t know anything about it until right before you got here. I reamed her ass the second I found out, trust me.”

  “That’s the stupidest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever heard. I was in a restaurant full of people when my car got trashed.”

  “She said you could have hired someone to do it.”

  He looked down at her, then. Insecurity mixing with anger. “You know I would never do anything to hurt you. Right?”

  “Of course.” She hugged him tightly. “I never bought it for a second.”

  “Thank, Christ.” He hugged her back.

  “Besides”—she looked back up at him“Coop was with you, so you have an airtight alibi.”

  Derek stiffened. “Actually, I don’t.”

  Her stomach fell. “W-what do you mean, you don’t? You told me Coop was there, too.”

  “He was until just after midnight.” Derek glanced over at his brother. “I finally convinced him to go home and get some rest at about twelve-thirty.”

  Eric cursed under his breath. “So, there’s no one that can vouch for your whereabouts after twelve?”

  “No.” Derek shook his head.

  “Yes, there is,” she argued. “The officer who drove there to tell you what happened. He can tell Detective York you were there when he showed up.”

  Eric looked at Derek, his eyes marred with a level of concern that left her nauseated.

  Derek closed his eyes. “Fuck.”

  Charlie’s stomach churned as she looked back and forth between the two brothers. They were doing the same weird, not-talking thing they did when they were younger.

  It used to annoy her back then. Right now it was infuriating.

  “What?”

  It was Eric who finally spoke up.

  “If I got caught pulling an officer from the streets to do a personal errand for me, such as finding my brother just to inform him of a supposed break-in at his girlfriend’s place, I’d get my ass handed to me. So, to lower that risk, I waited until Officer Morse got here with you and then had him go.”

  “Okay. I still don’t understand what the problem is.”

  Derek calmly explained. “York is going to say I had plenty of time to enter the apartment using the key you gave me, screw with the pantry, and get back to the client’s house before Officer Morse showed up.”

  Her mind whirled and her shoulders fell. “He’s not going to stop, is he? He’s going to keep coming at you.”

  She got an idea, then. It made her sick to think about, but if it meant helping Derek, she’d do it.

  “I should call him.”

  “What?” Both men looked at her like she was crazy.

  “No. Not a chance.” Derek looked at her pointedly.

  “Maybe I can talk to him. Get him to meet me somewhere, and then you guys could—”

  “You are not going to use yourself as fuckin’ bait, so get that shit out of your head right now.”

  “But—”

  “This is not up for discussion.”

  “If you would just—”

  “Derek’s right, Charlie,” Eric piped in. “No way in hell would either one of us let you do that.”

  “I need to do something.”

  “You can.” Derek cupped the side of her face. “Baby, the only way Caleb can truly hurt me is by hurting you. Promise me you won’t contact him or put yourself in a dangerous situation out of some misguided need to protect me. I’ll be fine.”

  “What about Detective York? She thinks you’ve been doing all of this to scare me. She said you’re afraid I won’t stay with you unless I feel I need your protection, so you’re creating those reasons.”

  Derek clenched his jaw together. “And what did you say?”

  One corner of her mouth rose slightly as she shrugged. “I told her to go to hell.”

  ****

  Chapter 19

  “I’d like to go on record as saying I think this is a really, really bad idea.”

  Derek shoved an extra mag into his duffle and zipped it closed. He turned to face Coop, who was currently standing at the foot of Charlie’s bed with his hands on his hips.

  Walking over to the closet to grab his boots, he muttered, “Duly noted.”

  Struggling to keep his voice down, Coop looked at the closed door and back to him. “Seriously, D. This is nuts.”

  “No, nuts would be to sittin’ on my ass waitin’ for his next move.”

  Derek sat on the edge of the bed and started putting his boots on. He understood his teammate’s concern, but he had this under control.

  “What are you gonna do?” the guy kept on. “Fly to New York and beat the hell out of the guy? You don’t even know for sure it’s Porter.”

  Sliding on a boot, Derek began tightening its lace. “It’s him.”

  Coop shook his head. “Then, let me come with you. At least that way you’ll have backup if you need it.”

  “Thanks, but I need you here.” He finished tying the last boot and sat up straight. “I need to know Charlie’s protected.”

  “Mac’s here. She can handle it.”

  “Not good enough.” He stood and reached for his bag. “I won’t take any chances where she’s concerned.”

  “No,” Coop quipped. “You’ll just lie to her about where you’re going.”

  Derek dropped the bag and was in Coop’s face in three long strides.

  Doing his best not to shout, he hissed, “This asshole beat the shit out of her for years, Sean. Years.”

  “I know, but—”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You don’t. You weren’t the one who went into that hotel room. You didn’t see her lying on the floor, bloodied and bruised, shirt torn all to hell. You want to know why Porter did that to her? Because she had coffee with me. In public, in the middle of the fuckin’ day.”

  “I’m sorry.” Coop’s empathetic eyes stared back at his. “I-I didn’t realize...”

  Derek took a few breaths to calm down before he spoke again. He’d spent the entire day trying to come up with a way to end Porter’s terrorizing hold on Charlie once and for all. This was the only way he could think of to do it.

  “I promised her it would be the last time he ever laid a hand on her. I’m keepin’ that promise, Sean.” He turned and went back for his bag. “I appreciate the offer to ride along, but this is somethin’ I have to do alone.”

  Resigned, the other man said, “Fine. Just tell me you’re not planning to shoot the bastard.”

  One corner of Derek’s mouth curved upward. “I’m not plannin’ to shoot the bastard. Not that he doesn’t deserve it.”

  “Good.” Coop waited a beat before adding, “Seriously, though. Watch your back. From what Charlie said, that detective from last night is lookin’ at you for the other stuff. Which, by the way, is total bullshit.”

  “I’m not worried. They’ve found no evidence that I’ve done anything, and they won’t because I haven’t. It’ll work itself ou
t.” He glanced at his watch. “Shit. I gotta go.”

  Coop shook his hand. “Stay safe, man.”

  “Always.”

  The two men exited the room, making their way to the kitchen where Charlie and Mac were talking while Charlie stood at the stove making dinner. The way her eyes lit up when she saw him made Derek feel like the luckiest sonofabitch in the world.

  She spotted the bag in his hand. “You’re leaving already?”

  “Think of it this way. Sooner I leave, the sooner I can come back home.”

  Charlie walked around the edge of the bar, the concern she felt for him pouring out from her dark eyes.

  “I can’t believe Jake is sending you on an op after everything that’s happened.”

  He schooled his expression. “That’s part of the job, darlin’.”

  One corner of her sweet mouth turned up. “You sound just like your dad.”

  “He’s a smart man.”

  The skin between her brows bunched together. “Why isn’t anyone else on the team going with you?”

  Once again, Derek did his damnedest not to give himself away. He hated being dishonest with her, but he hated the fear hiding in those gorgeous eyes a hell of a lot more.

  “It’s a small job that requires my skillset, so there’s no need for the whole team to go.”

  “Shouldn’t one of your teammates at least go with you, just in case?”

  Coop coughed loudly just then, making Derek want to punch the asshole. To avoid giving Charlie the chance to see he was lying through his teeth, he pulled her in for a hug.

  “It shouldn’t take more than a day.” He scowled at Coop from over her head, but the cocky-ass sniper just stared back with a raised brow. “I’m gonna do my best to be back in time for dinner tomorrow night. In the meantime, keep an eye on these two yahoos for me, would ya?”

  Smiling, Charlie tipped her head back. “Okay. Just promise you’ll be careful.”

  “I promise.”

  He leaned in for a kiss he wished could last longer. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “I Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Sharing one final look with his teammates, Derek grabbed his keys and left. Within the next hour, he was squeezing himself into a window seat in coach, waiting for the passenger airliner to take him to New York City.

  Because R.I.S.C. worked closely with Homeland, Agent Ryker had provided each operative a special I.D. allowing them to carry their guns on commercial flights. Derek had left his in his carry-on duffle so a passenger wouldn’t see it and freak out.

  Jake had no qualms letting him and Grant use R.I.S.C.’s private jet the last time, but Derek’s objective was different, then. They’d gone there solely to collect evidence against Porter in order to help Gracie.

  This time, it was much more personal, and Derek refused to take his boss and other teammates down with him if things got ugly.

  Four hours later, Derek was standing on the sidewalk outside Porter’s apartment building. He never thought he’d come back here, but he’d reached his limit.

  This shit ends tonight.

  Pulling the bill of his ball cap a little lower to help conceal his face, Derek walked through the doors and straight to the elevator. He avoided eye contact with anyone by typing out random shit on his phone, making it look as though he was busy texting.

  Using the key he still had from last time, Derek kept his head down the entire ride up to Porter’s floor.

  He knew from last time there were no cameras in the hallways on the upper floors. Charlie had explained that the elite tenants who lived up here didn’t want them for privacy purposes, and the building owner had complied.

  With no concern of being recorded, Derek lifted his head and stepped off the elevator, quickly making his way to Porter’s apartment. As he walked, he unzipped his duffle and pulled out his gun.

  When he got to the door, Derek didn’t bother to knock. Instead, he unlocked it and stepped inside, more than ready to get this night over with.

  Shane had texted him back when he landed, confirming Porter was at home, alone. So, he was surprised to find the place dark and completely silent.

  Lit only by small slivers of moonlight sneaking past slits in the curtains on the far wall, Derek took a step farther inside but tripped over something on the floor.

  “Shit.”

  He regained his footing and dug into his bag for the small flashlight he’d brought with him. Using his thumb, he clicked it on, his breath catching when he took in his surroundings.

  “What the hell?” he muttered to himself. Scanning the large, open area with the light in his hand, Derek tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

  The place was trashed.

  Furniture was overturned. Lamps were busted and lying on their sides. Pictures he remembered seeing on the fireplace mantle had been shattered and tossed aside.

  Then, he saw the blood.

  A small pool was on the hardwood floor near his foot. The pristine, white couch had a large splatter on the back and there was a trail of small droplets leading back toward the bedroom.

  What the fuck?

  He sat his bag down silently and raised his weapon. Careful not to step in any of the blood, Derek walked through the mess to check out the rest of the apartment. After clearing the spare room and bathroom, he moved slowly toward the bedroom doors.

  Since he was already wearing a pair of leather gloves, he didn’t hesitate to reach for the knob. With a deep breath, he steeled himself for what he thought he was about to find.

  Just as he’d been trained, Derek held his gun in front of him while he pushed the door open with his other hand. He checked behind it and gave the room a quick glance before turning on the lights.

  Like the entryway and living room, the bedroom showed signs of a struggle.

  A chair was tipped over onto its side, a picture on the wall was crooked, and there was a smear of blood on the top of the bed’s white sheet.

  After making sure the closet and master bath were empty, Derek shoved his gun into the waistband at his lower back and took a minute to think. Someone had come after Porter. No real surprise, given the company he kept. Question was, where was he now?

  Had they killed him and then somehow removed his body from the building? Or was he merely wounded and lying in a hospital bed somewhere?

  At the moment, there was no way to know if it was the former. The latter, however, Derek could find out fairly quickly.

  Watching his step, he went back to where he’d left his bag and pulled his laptop out. Using the kitchen’s granite countertop, he sat it down and went straight to work.

  With expert speed and precision, Derek’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he ran a search of the nearby hospitals and all-night urgent care clinics. He came up empty.

  Needing to be sure, he widened his search but still got the same results. Unless he’d checked in under a different name, Caleb Porter was not a registered patient anywhere in the city.

  “Fuck.”

  With nothing else to go on and nowhere to start, Derek did the only thing he could. He shoved his laptop back into his bag, locked the door behind him, and left.

  For the next two hours, he sat in the airport and waited for his flight to be called. After a quick text to Coop letting him know he was headed back home and why, Derek searched the hospital and clinic databases again for a patient registered under Porter’s name. Like before, he came up empty.

  The entire first half of the flight home, his mind whirled with possible scenarios that could have led to the bloody scene he’d stumbled into. Could’ve been a disgruntled client or fellow employee. Maybe the guy pissed off one of his mob connections and, like Derek, they’d had enough.

  Whatever the case, Caleb Porter was clearly in trouble. Derek couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty over his sense of relief. If the guy was out there somewhere, fighting for his life, his focus was no longer on Charlie.

  Kar
ma’s a bitch.

  He leaned back in his seat, grateful the passenger next to him was asleep. With his eyes closed and his ball cap tipped down over his forehead, Derek used the rest of the flight to regroup and think about the future.

  Charlie may not be ready for what he had planned, but that was okay. She was definitely worth the wait.

  Finally back, Derek shuffled into Charlie’s apartment. Exhausted, he closed the door behind him as quietly as he could.

  Coop was lying on the couch with his ankles crossed and an arm behind his head. The remote was in his hand, and he was snoring.

  “He’s been like that since you texted him,” Mac told him from the chair she was in.

  Derek smirked. “Can’t say I blame him. I’m beat.”

  He walked over to the kitchen table and sat his bag down. With a quick flick of the wrist, he untied his boots and toed them off, not bothering to put them away.

  “Hey, man.” Coop stretched, his voice was scratchy from sleep. “Glad you’re back.”

  “So, what’s the deal? You think someone offed Porter?” Mac whispered.

  “Looks that way, but I don’t know.”

  “You didn’t touch anything, did you?” Coop asked as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

  “Yeah, Coop. I made myself a cup of tea, took a piss, and laid down in his bed for a long winter’s nap.” He looked at him incredulously. “The fuck you think this is, amateur hour?”

  Mac snickered as she got up to grab her purse and keys. “Come on, partner. Let’s get you home.” She nudged Coop’s leg as she passed by him. “You clearly need more sleep if you’re asking dumbass questions like that.”

  “Hey, I’m just trying to look out for our boy.”

  “Our boy can take care of himself. Come on.” She rushed him. “I’m tired, and unlike you, I didn’t fall asleep on the job.”

  “I knew you had it covered.”

  Mac looked at Derek and rolled her pretty blue eyes before slapping him on the shoulder. “Glad you didn’t have to kill the guy.”

  “Me, too.” He glanced back toward the bedroom. “How’s she doin’?”

  “Worried about you. It took some time for her to fall asleep, but I haven’t heard a peep out of her since.”