Depends on Who's Asking

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  “What the fuck are y’all looking at me like that for?” I barked, uneasy with the attention, but also a bit unsettled when not just one, or two, but all of their eyes were on me.

  I never got that much attention.

  It was making me very uneasy.

  Foster, who was our team leader for today, stepped forward.

  That was when I also saw that Bennett was there, too.

  He wasn’t on call…

  Which then got me to thinking, over half of them weren’t on call. It was decided that half the team would have Christmas Eve off, and the other team, which was my team, would have Christmas off.

  They shouldn’t be here…

  That unsettling feeling grew until a wave of nausea took root in my belly, slowly filling me up from the throat down.

  There were one of four or five people of this world that could get this reaction out of me, and of them all, only one of them did the SWAT team know about.

  Carolina.

  There was something wrong with Carolina.

  “What happened?” I asked, feeling sick that I even had to ask.

  Bennett stepped forward, too, but gestured to the rest of the crew to get into the back of the armored truck. They did, leaving Foster, Bennett, and me standing there behind the truck.

  “Foster, you mind riding in the back?” Bennett asked. “I’ll drive.”

  Foster got into the truck and Bennett closed the doors before gesturing for me to take the front seat.

  I did, though I didn’t want to.

  I had a feeling that sitting up in that seat meant that I was going to hear things that I didn’t want to hear.

  I was right.

  When I got in and Bennett started the truck up, he started to talk.

  When he was done, I couldn’t quite believe my ears.

  “I’m sorry, but can you repeat that?” I asked, even though I’d heard him correctly the first time.

  Bennett looked over at me with a hardness to his face that I’d never seen before.

  “Carolina is being held hostage at her house,” he repeated slower. “There was apparently a person on her house that called it in when they noticed that the lights in the house were on. I was informed that she has a detail?”

  Carolina did.

  Fuck.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “How much do you know about me?” I asked quietly, pressing the button so that the men in the back could hear us talking.

  He would know eventually. I might as well give him all the information now.

  “I am the son of former President Nicholson…” I started.

  By the time I’d finished the entire tale, finishing up with my mother’s death and my father’s attempted murder, Bennett was looking at me like he’d never seen me before.

  When we pulled up on scene, I got out and was immediately bombarded by Connor.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Connor hissed.

  The anger in his tone had me reeling.

  I hadn’t expected that level of anger after that breakfast we’d had with Carolina yesterday. Or was that this morning? Hell, I didn’t even know what day it was anymore.

  “I’m here because I work for the SWAT team, and I’m worried about your sister,” I found myself calling back to him over the crowded space. “I’m sure for the same reason you’re here.”

  He didn’t like the calm in my tone. I could tell by the look on his face.

  “What the fuck are you so worried about?” Connor sneered at me when he saw me walk up to the command tent that was set up about halfway down the road from Carolina’s place.

  My head whipped around, and I glared at Connor.

  “I’m sorry, but what the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t leave her behind!” I said through clenched teeth, voice tight with fury.

  “You’re the man that fucked over my sister, so I’m going to fuck you right back over as soon as you get her out of this mess!” he all but bellowed.

  I honestly had no fucking clue what he was talking about.

  What, did he think that I wasn’t still together with Carolina? Because I was. We’d spent every night together since the party. Sure, I’d had a moment of doubt a couple of nights ago, but we’d settled that this morning over donuts.

  “All right, children,” Bennett said as he placed himself bodily between us. “It’s time to go to our separate rooms and think about what we’ve done.”

  I gritted my teeth to keep from saying something scathing to my boss.

  “Y’all aren’t participating in this anyway,” Bennett continued. “You may see, hear, and plan. But you may not execute.”

  Foster immediately jumped into an overview of what they knew.

  They knew that one man, in his late forties, was in the house with Carolina. They also knew that the man was semi-batshit crazy thanks to a few of his offhanded comments that they could hear off the security system once we’d tapped into it.

  “Our next order of business is this,” Foster went on to explain how we were going to execute the entire thing, ending with a look at me. “You stay your ass at the tent until this is over.”

  “I can talk to him,” I said, voice steady as could be.

  “I know you can,” Foster said. “But I have Downy here.”

  I looked over my shoulder to see Downy standing behind us, arms crossed, ready to take up the mantle of negotiator like I’d never even had it before him. For the last year, it’d been all me. I’d been the one to talk to violent criminals, telling them not to make the mistake that they were about to make. To help them sort through their head, and when they wouldn’t allow that, negotiated for what they wanted.

  “Downy, you ready to make the call?” I heard said but didn’t place who’d been the one to say it.

  Downy nodded his head once, looking utterly capable.

  Which was surprising because just as the call was placed, Michael, Carolina’s father, came running up and looking frantic with worry. Clayton was close at his side, in uniform, obviously having been the one to go get him.

  That’s when the hostage negotiation started.

  And the remembrance that Smoke was in there with her.

  “Fuck me,” I whispered when Downy’s call connected.

  “Hi,” Downy said, giving Michael a stern look that clearly said ‘calm the fuck down.’ “Who am I speaking with?”

  The man cursed, there was what sounded like a struggle, and then Carolina’s voice filled the airwaves. “This is Carolina.”

  Downy’s eyes, though, didn’t meet his friend’s, but mine.

  “Carolina, are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m okay,” she admitted. “How are you?”

  Downy’s smile was swift. “Can’t complain, darlin’. Tell me what’s going on.”

  There was a long pause and then, “He doesn’t want me to say. I’m to just relay information.”

  My hands clenched.

  “What can you say?” Downy questioned.

  “I’m allowed to talk, just not about what he’s doing here or why he’s here,” she said.

  “Can he hear me?” Downy asked.

  “No,” she answered. “Just me for now.”

  “Where is he?” Downy asked.

  “Umm,” she hesitated.

  “So, he can hear your responses, but he can’t hear my questions?” Downy guessed.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Is he in the room with you?” Downy asked.

  “No,” she said.

  “A room close to you? Are you in the living room?” Downy asked.

  “Yes, and yes,” she answered.

  “Is he in the kitchen? Possibly looking out the window?” Downy pushed.

  “Yes.” She sounded relieved.

  “Let me know if he moves by saying ‘maybe,’ okay?” Downy urged.

  “Okay.” She sounded sick.

  “I’m going to talk, but not to you, okay, honey? I won’t put you on mute until he’
s listening. If he starts listening, I want you to say maybe twice,” Downy continued.

  She sniffled, and that damn sound broke my fucking heart.

  “Ask her if Smoke is with her,” I urged.

  Downy’s eyebrows went up in surprise, but he said, “Is Smoke with you?”

  She sounded relieved. “Yes.”

  “Is that why he’s not in the same room as you?” Downy asked, guessing that was why.

  That would’ve been my guess, too.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “Okay,” Downy said. “Keep close to Smoke. Smoke may be injured, but he’s trained to read these situations. He’ll protect you.”

  He would.

  Smoke was a good boy and a well-trained police K-9. The accident the other day might’ve shaken him up, but it wouldn’t have taken him down.

  “Okay, darlin’. Let us talk. Ignore us. Listen. Whatever. Just don’t hang up.”

  After getting her reassurances, we looked to Foster who’d been waiting in the wings showing the rest of the SWAT team who their man was. When he was done, he made it our way.

  “Any ideas on who this is?” Foster asked, coming up to show me a photo of the man that was in Carolina’s house.

  He didn’t look familiar at all.

  But that didn’t mean he wasn’t possibly related to the situation that I’d somehow found myself in.

  It was as we were watching the house that I dropped the bomb.

  “My father is running for president.” I paused. “Has already been president for one term years ago. Hell, he could be the enemy and I just don’t know it.”

  There was silence among the men, then a dawning sense of understanding.

  Especially from the man beside me.

  “I guess that explains why every time I went in your house, I felt like someone was watching me,” Malachi said. “Someone was watching me, weren’t they?”

  “My dad has to be protective of me,” I said. “It’s quite stifling, and the reason that I left him and the ‘son of the president life’ in the first place. Nobody really knows who I am here, so it’s been quite liberating to just be me.”

  “That’s why you tried to break up with my sister?”

  I hadn’t realized that Connor was there until he’d spoken up.

  I looked back over my shoulder for Smoke who was usually close to my side, forgetting for a second that he was with Carolina. The men behind me were not only Connor, but Clayton as well.

  I gave them both my full attention then.

  I gestured at the house where their sister was being held hostage by some psycho.

  “That?” I said. “That’s a normal thing for me. It’s always a possibility because no matter what, you’re always going to have someone that hates my father enough to do that.”

  Clayton swallowed. “Don’t you think that’s something that you should let my sister decide on her own if that’s what she wants?”

  I clenched my jaw.

  “Fuck, I don’t know,” I said. “The thing is, I know what it’s like. I can’t fucking breathe when I’m around my dad and all that comes with being who he is. When I’m remembered. When I’m being forced to be someone I don’t want to be. Do you really think that I would ever wish that on someone? Someone that I love?”

  “You love me?”

  The whispered words from the telephone that was on speaker for everyone to hear felt like a shot to the heart.

  I looked back over at the phone. The one that was projecting the voice of the woman that I’d fallen in love with, head over heels, over the last twenty-four days.

  “I’ve loved you since you told me that my form was bad,” I teased, hoping to take her thoughts off of the situation in her house.

  “I think we got a way in,” Bennett said. “There’s a root cellar, yes?”

  “Yes,” Carolina sounded excited. “But…”

  She trailed off, not wanting to give away anything.

  Things happened after that.

  The teams moved out. Snipers got into place. The rest of them spread out, one group going to the root cellar via the neighbor’s back yard, and another going to the front to await further instructions.

  I walked to the edge of Carolina’s grass, staring at the team that filtered through the area.

  With the kitchen being in the back of the house, the second team that was hitting up the front was able to move freely.

  At least, we thought so.

  “Maybe.” Carolina’s voice broke the silence giving the code word indicating the intruder was on the move.

  Then all hell broke loose and shots started firing.

  I watched as chaos unfolded.

  Men dove for the dirt. The windows exploded from the inside out.

  And then I heard Carolina scream.

  I’m not sure what made me do it.

  Maybe it was the memory of watching that chimney sweeper doing his thing as I’d dropped her off that night.

  Maybe it was the fact that I’d seen the men surrounding the house and knew that this wasn’t going to end like everyone wanted it to end.

  The guy just had too much fucking firepower. That was obvious by the windows that shattered outward like they were pieces of confetti.

  Whatever the reason for my obviously stupid, superhero stunt, I suddenly found myself climbing Carolina’s chimney.

  Seconds after that, I was pulling the top off with a brutal yank that couldn’t be heard over the booming gunshots and positioning myself in the hole that would lead me down into her house.

  Using my feet on either side to help, I slowly lowered myself a few inches at a time until I could see the bottom.

  I was also immensely happy that the fire wasn’t lit since she said she liked to do that on cold nights like tonight.

  When I finally got down, I crouched low so I could see, then realized with horror that I wouldn’t be able to see thanks to the hole for the fireplace being too small.

  I pulled out my phone, put my feet on either side of the wood, and turned the viewfinder on with the camera app.

  I lowered it down and looked around.

  The man was standing at the window firing at everything that moved.

  Carolina was in the corner nearest me with Smoke over the top of her, growling loudly.

  I had a decision to make.

  If I came out of the chimney, I’d draw his attention. The wood would go tumbling out, and it would definitely make him turn around.

  On the other hand, if I didn’t, he could just as easily turn around and put a bullet into Carolina.

  I only had one option then.

  Placing the phone in my pocket, I braced for what I was about to do.

  CHAPTER 17

  Dear Santa, I’ve been very, very good for the last week or so.

  -Caro’s secret thoughts

  CAROLINA

  I could say, without a single doubt, that this was by far my worst Christmas Eve ever, and it was all my fault.

  Ish.

  Granted, I had no part in inviting that man into my home.

  I knew that what was going on wasn’t because of Saint at all, but me.

  But I couldn’t really relay that information with the man watching me like a hawk.

  Thank God for Smoke, because he’d protected me the moment that the man had pushed himself in the door.

  He would’ve done more, like attack the man, but I’d seen the gun the man had strapped to his body when he’d forced his way inside.

  There was no way that I was letting Saint’s dog get hurt.

  None.

  A whisper of sound that didn’t sound like the man at the window had me turning my head slightly to see if I could put eyes on the sound, but all I saw was the fireplace above my head.

  And boots.

  Boots?

  What the…

  The logs went flying and Saint came barreling out of the fireplace like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.

  The man who was
in my home and shouldn’t be, turned around, gun raised.

  But he went down with two well-placed bullets to the chest.

  The man’s rifle hit the floor, and then everything went silent.

  “Shooter down,” Saint coughed as he lay on the ground in the middle of my living room, a piece of firewood wedged uncomfortably under his left shoulder.

  I scrambled toward the shooter, but before I could get there, Saint latched on to my ankle and said, “No. Let them do it.”

  And by them, he meant the men breaking down my door.

  I squeaked and dove at Saint to protect him, but he only laughed.

  “Those are the good guys, baby.” He patted my thigh and got up.

  That’s when I saw the piece of wood sticking out of his shoulder.

  “Umm.” I pressed on his back. “You seem to have a rather large splinter in your right shoulder.”

  “Pull it out,” he grunted.

  I reached for the wood, thinking it would come out easily, but it sure the fuck didn’t. The t-shirt was in the way, but I also thought the wood might be lodged into his shoulder too tightly for me to pull out.

  He grunted out a curse, and I dropped my hand from the wood. “Let’s have someone who knows what they’re doing look at that.”

  Smoke came over, his butt wagging, and licked Saint’s face.

  “He protected me today,” I said softly. “I don’t think things would’ve turned out so well if he wasn’t here.”

  Saint pressed his hand to Smoke’s face and dropped a kiss onto his furry doggy head.

  “Glad that he was here when I couldn’t be,” he said as he eyed the man on the floor.

  The dead man that was bleeding on my brand-new hardwood floors.

  “You know him?” someone asked.

  I looked up to see Booth standing there looking at me.

  I grimaced.

  “Yeah,” I confirmed. “Dillan and I had a run-in today with him in the parking lot. He, uh, wasn’t very happy with me.”

  “What are you talking about?” Booth asked.

  I stood up and hurried to the kitchen to look for the donuts that’d started this all.

  I found them, surprisingly unharmed, and walked them back into the room.

  Saint saw the box and frowned.

  I flipped the box open and showed him.

  The donuts read ‘Happy Birthday Saint.’