Armed 'N' Ready

by Tee O'Fallon

  Saxon stood proud and tall, tail erect as he guarded the two incapacitated men. Like Nick, the dog was all cop, and they’d both saved her life. She’d have to pick up some Pop-Tarts then sneak them to Saxon when Nick wasn’t looking.

  What seemed like ten police vehicles sped closer. The first two that pulled to a stop in front of the house were state police sedans, followed by local police cars, a few unmarked units, and several K-9 SUVs.

  Radios squawked, and her front yard glowed with the ricochet of flashing red-and-blue strobes. The DPC and her house were situated on a quiet stretch of road, with no other houses for at least a quarter mile in either direction. Given the early hour, chances were her neighbors were asleep and wouldn’t know anything about the incident unless it hit the newspapers.

  At least a dozen officers packed her front yard, including Special Agent Cox, Eric, and two of Nick’s other friends—Matt and Kade.

  Eric got to them first, resting a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “You guys all right?” He looked from Nick to her, his eyes filled with concern.

  “We’re fine.” Nick gave her waist a little squeeze, snugging her that much closer and making her feel totally protected.

  She’d expected him to release her the minute the troops arrived, but he didn’t, and she was grateful for the support. Mentally and physically. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and if his arm hadn’t been around her, she might have slipped to the ground like a limp noodle.

  Matt and Kade joined them.

  Matt frowned. “You’re bleeding.”

  “What?” She eased from Nick’s embrace, placing one hand on his chest as she looked at his face.

  A small cut beneath his right eye oozed blood, probably, judging by the split skin, from the fistfight he’d had with the three men. When she reached up to touch his face, he clasped her hand, pulling it away.

  “It’s nothing,” he reassured her. “I’m fine.”

  He wasn’t fine, and neither was she. Okay, so she hadn’t been hurt, not physically, anyway, but she was so far from fine it wasn’t funny. “Would someone tell me what just happened here?” Her voice had come out in a high-pitched squeak.

  Cox joined them on the front step. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

  “Three men tried to kidnap her.” Nick’s tone was hard as he released her and walked to where Saxon dutifully guarded the two prone figures.

  She followed but stood off to the side as he succinctly described what had happened.

  “These two assholes,” he continued, “dragged her out of the house. Her hands were taped together. There was a third guy waiting in a van at the curb. He took off and left his buddies behind.”

  “I don’t suppose you got the tag?” Cox asked.

  Nick shook his head. “Too dark. Headlights never came on. Chevy, black or brown. Late-nineties model with a busted-up rear bumper. These guys”—he indicated the men on the ground, who were beginning to stir—“have gang tattoos.”

  How in the world did he take in that level of detail, let alone in the dark and while fighting off three armed men?

  Because this was his world, a dangerous one, and she was so far out of her element it was pathetic.

  He pointed to the front door. “Between them, they had two switchblades, two nine mils—Ruger and Glock—and two cell phones. The serial numbers on the guns were filed off. We can check all their recent texts and calls and see who they’ve been talking to lately. Based on their tats, these guys are low-level gang members, so you can bet they’re taking orders from someone else.”

  Her heart squeezed as she listened to his voice—totally devoid of emotion. Tough as nails, cold as ice. As if someone had flipped a switch, he’d instantly morphed back into a hard-ass cop.

  It wasn’t that she’d forgotten who or what he was. It was the reaffirmation that there really were two distinct aspects of this man and his life. One, she now knew, was filled with warmth, passion, humor, and music. The other, shadowed by violence and ugliness, the depths of which she hadn’t truly understood until now. This was the world he worked in, and it terrified her.

  Turning, she went up the steps, pausing to glance at the guns and knives he’d taken off those men. It was hard to imagine how many lives could be snuffed out by those weapons. One bullet or knife strike was all it would take.

  She shivered then put her hand on the screen doorknob, clasping it tightly. She might not be a cop, but she didn’t have to be one to understand with unerring certainty that this was all connected to whatever Joe was involved in. “I have to check on Stray,” she said, looking at the men lying on the ground. “They kicked her.”

  Nick’s expression softened, as did his tone when he spoke. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Quietly, she turned the knob and went inside to the living room. Her stomach roiled with anger at the danger and chaos Joe had brought into her life. When he showed up, she fully intended to rip into him with every foul word in her verbal repertoire. Which wasn’t much, really, but she’d concoct something special just for him.

  In the corner of the living room, Stray lifted her head from the dog bed. “Oh, you poor thing,” she crooned, sitting on the floor to stroke her soft, velvety ears. Her head filled with rage and her heart with sadness at what Stray had endured trying to protect her. “Thank you, girl.” The dog nuzzled her hand then licked her arm. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

  Uttering a long sigh, Stray lowered her head and rested her muzzle on the edge of the bed.

  Men’s voices drew her attention. Through the screen door, she watched Nick collect the guns, knives, and cell phones, dropping them into a plastic bag. Then the door opened, and Saxon entered first, followed by Nick, Matt, Eric, Kade, and Special Agent Cox.

  Saxon went to Stray. The shepherd lowered his head to sniff the other dog, then gently licked her muzzle. The gesture was so tender and loving that Andi nearly laughed. Not at the sweet affection Nick’s dog was showing to hers, but at yet another similarity between Saxon and his master.

  Like Nick, Saxon was a cop who would take down an armed bad guy without hesitation, putting his life on the line for her and others. The dog’s training and instincts to protect were just as fierce as Nick’s, yet both could switch from badass to gentle and caring in a heartbeat.

  Saxon lay on the floor on Stray’s other side. It never ceased to amaze her how wonderful and loving dogs were. To humans and to each other.

  Nick knelt before her and rested a hand on her arm. “We’re transporting these guys to the barracks. We’ll get them to talk.” The look he gave her was tender and filled with concern.

  “This is because of Joe, isn’t it?”

  “I’d say so.” He nodded grimly, pausing to run his hand over the top of Stray’s head. “We think they wanted to use you as bait. To lure him in.”

  Her eyes widened, and she grabbed his forearm. “But they’ll kill him.”

  “And they’d have killed you, too.” His jaw clenched, and a deadly gleam sparked in his eyes. “If they’d gotten you tonight, they’d have found a way to make sure he knew it. They’d have lied to him, told him that if he turned himself in, they’d let you go.”

  A chill crept up her spine. “But they wouldn’t have. Would they?”

  “No,” he answered in a voice as hard as granite. “Where’s your phone?”

  “In the kitchen. Why?”

  Releasing her arm, he stormed into the kitchen, returning a moment later with her phone. He punched in her code, then cued up a call and held the phone to his ear.

  “Nick,” Cox warned. “What are you doing?”

  “Speeding things up.”

  “We don’t want to scare the guy off,” Cox countered, making a move to grab the phone.

  Nick’s tone was deadly. “I don’t give a fuck what you want.”

  Saxon scrambled to his feet, planting himself in a protective stance between Nick and Cox.

  As one, Eric, Matt, and Kade moved to Nick’s
side, as if in support.

  “And I’m sure not gonna give these assholes another chance to grab her,” he continued. “Myer needs to know his actions are putting Andi in harm’s way, where she’ll remain until he turns himself in. He may not answer the phone, but you can be sure he’s checking his voicemail.”

  She knew the moment Joe’s voicemail kicked on. Nick’s eyes narrowed to slits. His lips compressed, and his nostrils flared. “Joe Myer,” he said. “This is Sgt. Nick Houston with the Massachusetts State Police. Whoever you’re laundering money for just tried to kidnap Andi and use her as bait to lure you in. She could have been killed, you sonofabitch. If you still love her like I think you do, you’ll turn yourself in. To me.” He recited his cell phone number then ended the call.

  Andi hugged her knees to her chest, lowering her head to hide the tears trickling down her cheeks. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of it.

  When she lifted her head, Nick was again kneeling in front of her.

  “You can hate me for what I just did, but I’d do it again. Anything to keep you safe.” The determination on his handsome face frightened her. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I won’t let it.” His face had softened again, and she believed him. “Matt and Kade will stay here while the rest of us go to the barracks to interrogate those men. I’ll find out who’s behind this.”

  “What will you do then?” she asked.

  “You let me worry about that.” He smiled, but there was no warmth. “A patrol car will stay out front overnight. You’ll be safe. And did I mention that Kade is a veterinary technician? He’ll give Stray a cursory exam and make sure she’s okay. I’ll be back later.”

  “When?” she asked, unable to contain the hopefulness in her voice.

  “I don’t know. I’ll call.” He handed her back her phone then dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “Hier.”

  Saxon nuzzled Stray one last time then followed Nick out the door. Eric and Cox went with him. Even though Matt and Kade remained behind, the room suddenly felt empty. She didn’t doubt Nick’s words. She would be safe. Matt’s friends and the officers stationed outside would protect her. But who would protect them? They were all highly trained, but they weren’t bulletproof.

  “Would you like me to look at Stray?” Kade gave her a warm smile that showed off his dimples. “Nick said she’d been hurt.”

  “Yes. Please.” Numbly, she stroked Stray’s ears while Kade carefully helped the dog to her feet. Then he ran his large hands methodically over both sides of Stray’s rib cage.

  “I don’t think anything’s broken. Bruised, probably, so she’ll be walking unsteadily for a while.”

  “That’s a relief.” She looked gratefully at Kade and was rewarded with a full-fledged smile that not only emphasized his adorable dimples but how incredibly handsome the man was.

  She yawned, wishing she could fall asleep and pretend this night had never happened. “We’re going to bed. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks,” Matt said. “Let us know if you need anything.”

  She helped Stray climb the stairs then settle onto another dog bed in a corner of the bedroom. “Sleep well, girl.” The dog lowered her head and uttered a throaty sigh.

  Andi fell into bed fully clothed. Despite how tired she was, sleep didn’t come easily.

  Stuffing an extra pillow beneath her head, she gazed out the window at the stars. It was nearly three in the morning. Venus stood guard over the peaceful, shimmering lake. While she was resting safely in her bed, Nick and other officers were tracking down the dangerous people who’d orchestrated her kidnapping. As much as she’d been worrying about Joe these last weeks, now she worried for Nick. Maybe more so.

  She’d been given rare insight into what it must be like as a police officer’s spouse or partner. You’d have to be willing to accept—and mentally capable of accepting—that person had the ability and authority to kill when necessary. And that they could be killed in the line of duty.

  Do I have what it takes?

  Lying there in the darkness, she didn’t know quite what she felt for Nick. Somewhere along the line, annoyance had turned into respect, and she’d begun to like him. Then like had morphed into caring with something else thrown in—desire. God, how she wanted him to make love to her. But her feelings ran far deeper.

  Fear curled in her belly. If anything happened to him…if he were killed…he would take a piece of her heart with him.

  How much of her heart was too frightening to contemplate.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nick cuffed the gang member—Jose Matteo—to the metal chair in one of the barracks’ interrogation rooms. Three doors down, Eric was busy with Matteo’s partner-in-crime—Sonny Luther.

  Matteo was a pathetic twenty-year-old, about five-foot-six, and a little chubby around the waistline. The entire right side of his face was turning purple from where Nick had smashed his fist into it. The sonofabitch had gotten off easy. If he hadn’t knocked Matteo out cold, he would gladly have pummeled the rest of the guy’s face to a bloody pulp for hurting Andi. He’d wanted to kill the guy ten times over then get to work on his buddy two doors down. But he needed them alive so they could talk, and talk fast.

  Given that the third asshole had gotten away, it wouldn’t be long before some shifty attorney showed up to represent the two men. After that, it would be too late, and the attorney would shut his clients down. Professionalism and the monitor in the corner of the ceiling held him in check. Everything that went down would be done right and recorded for posterity.

  He sat on the edge of the table and crossed his arms, staring down at Matteo. Exercising sound tactics, he said nothing. Eventually, the little shit would start squirming.

  Matteo leaned back, sending Nick his best defiant, punk-ass look. Won’t work. He’d seen far too many young men and women absorbed by the gang system who’d been taught to act tough. The truth was that inside they were all scared, needing to take advantage of a gang’s pack mentality in order to feel like they belonged.

  At first, Matteo maintained eye contact. Then Nick glimpsed the telltale signs of weakening.

  Sweat broke out on the kid’s upper lip. He grabbed both sides of the seat and began to squirm. A few seconds later, Matteo broke eye contact and looked away. When he looked back, he lost it.

  “Quit fucking staring at me.”

  “I’m making you nervous.” He knew he was.

  “Fuck no.”

  “Then it shouldn’t matter if I stare at you.”

  He was careful not to ask questions. Matteo had been read his rights and claimed he wanted a lawyer. It was up to Nick to convince him otherwise. Without asking any questions.

  “I ain’t talkin’, and you know it. So why am I here?”

  Gotcha.

  “Kidnapping. Assault. Unlawful possession of a switchblade. Unlawful possession of a firearm. Conspiracy. Resisting arrest. And my personal favorite—assault on a police officer.”

  Matteo leaned forward. “Didn’t know you were a cop at first.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’ll still be charged for that.”

  Matteo swore again. “That ain’t fair.”

  “I couldn’t care less.” He paused, allowing the ramifications of all those charges to sink in. “This isn’t your first arrest, which means you’ll do hard time.”

  More sweat broke out on the kid’s brow and neck. Damp patches darkened his armpits and the front of his shirt. Nick had already run Matteo’s criminal history. For a gang member, it actually hadn’t been that bad. Petty crimes mostly. These new charges would send him away for a long time.

  He guessed the kidnapping was an initiation meant to launch Matteo and Sonny directly to full status, and he was betting this was a directive handed down from someone else.

  “You’re not a real gang member. You’re a sad little wannabee who screwed up,” Nick pressed. “Now you’re going to prison for something someone else ordered you to do.”

&n
bsp; “I am, too, a gang member,” Matteo shouted.

  “Bullshit.” He smacked his hand on the table, making the kid jerk back against the chair. “You’re a sorry-ass nobody who’s going to spend the next decade in prison.”

  “You motherfucker,” Matteo hissed.

  “That’s Sgt. Motherfucker to you.” He leaned in closer, waiting.

  Less than a minute later, tears welled in Matteo’s eyes, followed by sobs. Looked like this would be even easier than he’d anticipated. Probably meant there was still hope for the kid. After he did his time.

  Now to nail him down with information he’d learned from a street informant during the drive from the DPC to the barracks.

  Nick remained where he was, softening his voice. “You’ve got a girlfriend and a two-year-old son. I know you’d like to be out before your boy turns ten. You could do that. With good behavior and cooperation. The cooperation part starts now.”

  He straightened to give Matteo time to absorb and process the potential deal on the table. Not too much time.

  Still defiant, Matteo stared at the ceiling.

  Nick’s patience was running thin. “Your buddy is in another room down the hall. Whoever talks first gets the golden prize.”

  “Yeah?” The kid sneered. “What’s that?”

  “Reduced charges and a reduced sentence.” It would take a prosecutor to make the specific offer, but in general that was the way the system worked.

  Matteo continued to sneer, doing his best to intimidate Nick.

  “If you don’t start talking, you’re looking at a full sentence with no chance at reduction. If that happens your kid won’t remember you by the time you get out of prison. Chances are your girlfriend will have moved on by then and shacked up with someone else.” He stood. “You’ve got exactly three seconds to start talking, or I walk out that door and the deal walks with me.”

  Another few seconds went by before Matteo sniffled and choked back a muffled sob. “What do you want to know?”

  Nick whipped out a waiver of rights form from his back pocket, then grabbed another trooper from the hallway to sign as a witness and remain in the room during the interview.