Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “What?” I asked nervously.

  “Is the kid you’re talking about with the wounded veteran and his wife?” Bennett asked from his perch.

  I blinked. “Yes. Why?”

  Bennett looked at Luke, but Luke’s gaze was on me.

  “Candice and Guy Golding?” he asked for confirmation.

  I scrunched my eyebrows together and pulled out Angel’s file that was underneath the Sergei file.

  Flipping to the second page, I ran my finger down until I found the foster parents currently taking care of Angel.

  “Yes, Candice and Guy Golding. That’s them,” I confirmed.

  “We need to go talk to the social worker who’s been forging paperwork. Then we need to know why an Artem is trying to get custody of Anita Artem’s child. Especially when there’s not supposed to be any living relatives.”

  That bomb was dropped by Downy, and their extreme attention as soon as I’d mentioned the name Artem finally made sense.

  Anita Artem was the woman Nico had shot and killed.

  The one who’d belonged to the mafia.

  The institution that’d been responsible for shooting and killing the officer who was using Nico’s cop car.

  Holy.

  Shit.

  Chapter 16

  Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Try not to fall down the stairs on your way, either.

  -Note to self

  Nico

  Two days later

  “Hey, this is Nico. I wanted to see if you could come clean my house later this week. I’ve got a bit of a mess going on right now, and you know how I am. Let me know when you can do it. Thanks, bye,” I said to Candice’s voicemail.

  I hung up and glared at my still dirty floors.

  That was the third time I’d called her in three days.

  “At least it wasn’t the thirty fifth like someone I know,” I snarled as I threw down my phone and went outside.

  Feeling the need for an exhausting workout, I went outside and gathered up my axe and wedge, then took them to the large pile of wood I’d stacked in a heap at the corner of the house.

  A tree had fallen a couple of weeks ago during a storm, and I’d cut it up with my chainsaw, leaving the large chunks to cut up for firewood at a later date.

  I’d been doing it nearly an hour when I heard wheels crunch on the gravel road that led up to my driveway.

  I didn’t turn around.

  I knew who it was as soon as I heard the engine whine.

  So the little coward had decided to finally show after three fucking days.

  Imagine that.

  I felt her stare, but I never stopped chopping the wood.

  Set the wood up on the stump. Swing back. Strike hard and fast.

  Thwack.

  I repeated it over and over, waiting on her to say something.

  It took her a long time.

  Thwack.

  I counted thirty-five pieces before she finally spoke.

  “I’m mad at you,” she said softly.

  She was crying.

  I hated when she cried.

  I didn’t stop, however.

  I just kept going, waiting for what she had to say next. The only outward sign that I was listening was the bunch of my shoulders.

  “You should’ve told me about her suicide the night she did it,” she said tearfully.

  I whirled on her. “Is that right? And how exactly did you expect me to do that? I fucking called you seventeen times that night and left you at least a fuckin’ million text messages. I know how to take a fucking hint.”

  Her eyes widened at the vehemence in my voice, and she took a step away.

  I was on a fucking roll, though, and really let her have it.

  “All you had to do was be understanding. If you can’t handle this, what makes you think you can handle it when I have to take down a goddamned kid because he pointed a gun at his big sister?” I asked irately.

  I walked past her, going inside to the kitchen to grab a drink.

  She followed.

  I heard her stomping feet behind me as I walked up to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, twisting the cap off viciously.

  “I don’t like it when you’re right. It makes me mad when I have to admit that I’m wrong. I know I was wrong, but you were wrong, too,” she snarled.

  I looked at her incredulously. “You’re so full of shit. You piss me the fuck off.”

  She crossed her arms. “Well, maybe if I’m so full of shit, and I piss you off so fuckin’ much, we shouldn’t be together.”

  I shook my head at her and gave her a droll look.

  “We fight. We yell. You throw shit and I glare at you. That’s just how we are. We don’t have the type of relationship where it’s all hearts and goddamned flowers. We have the type of relationship that’s real. We fight hard and make up harder. And you need to get over your fucking snit, because I’m so fucking hot for you that I might not be nice when you really need it,” I growled in Georgia’s face.

  She tried to push me away from where I was pinning her to the wall, but she didn’t get me far. In fact, it was only the barest of millimeters, and that was only because I didn’t want her to hurt herself when she slammed her wrists against my chest.

  “I fucking love you, Georgia. Get the fuck over it,” I yelled.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You fuckin’ love me? Then where the fuck were you?!” she screamed in my face.

  I rocked back on my heels. That one penetrated. The vehemence in her voice alone was enough to send me back.

  “What do you mean, where was I?” I asked.

  She surged forward, taking advantage of the gap I left her, practically hurling herself at me.

  “You weren’t there. I needed you, and you weren’t there,” she whispered brokenly.

  My heart broke.

  “I didn’t know,” I rasped.

  She slumped into me. “I wanted you to come to Houston so bad. And you never came. I called you so many times, and you never came.”

  “I did come, though. I may not have been there in person, but I was there with you. I thought about you nonstop. Not once, in the last eight years, have I stopped thinking about you,” I said adamantly. “I would’ve come down and helped you celebrate your graduation just so you had someone there if I hadn’t shot that stupid bitch who was trying to kill Luke. I’d have been there. I’ve known where you were since six months after the accident. I’ve gone down there every month since I got out of the Navy.”

  She looked shaken. “You knew where I was? But why did you never stop by?”

  I leaned my back against the counter and shrugged, crossing my arms over my chest. “You weren’t ready. I knew you’d come back when you were.”

  Her mouth dropped open and the hair that’d been threatening to fall out of the messy bun she’d put it in, finally gave way, spilling her beautiful wavy hair out across her shoulders and partially covering her face.

  “What would you have done if I was never ready?” She asked painfully.

  “I’d have been one hell of a lonely man. You’re it for me, Georgia. You have been since you were that shy girl who stole my heart,” I said truthfully.

  I would’ve waited too. However long it took. It wouldn’t have mattered if I was a sixty-five-year-old man, there’d never have been another woman for me.

  “But…” She shook her head. “If that was the case, why did you never return my calls?”

  I shook my head.

  “I don’t know about any calls, Georgia. I’ve had the same number since I was fifteen. If you’d have called, I’d have answered.” Then I amended. “If I was able. What number did you call?”

  Her brow furrowed. “The same one that I’ve been calling you on.”

  I took the phone from her hand and started scanning through her contacts, finding two numbers. One under Nico, and one under Nicolas.

 
“Which one have you been getting calls from me under?” I asked, scanning through her call log.

  Nico.

  Pulling up the other number on her phone, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You have my dad’s number under my name.” I wheezed.

  “But… if I had your dad’s number that means… Dear God. I left your dad all these voicemails. I practically poured my heart out in all of them!” she nearly yelled.

  I shook my head. “It’s okay, Georgia. My dad doesn’t even know how to work his phone. He still has a flip phone, if that tells you anything. I don’t think he’s checked a voicemail in all that time. In fact, if the phone was capable, it’s probably still on there.”

  She slumped and walked forward into my arms.

  I caught her up, burying my face into her neck.

  She smelled like hay and the laundry detergent she used. A cotton smell that was oddly attractive. It was also something I was beginning to smell like myself since she’d been the one to do my laundry the last time.

  “I just can’t believe it. All these years I’ve been calling your dad. How did I screw that up?” She asked.

  “Dad’s and my number are one digit apart. His ends in 2122, and mine ends in 2123,” I explained.

  She sighed, and the feel of her breath against my chest was enough to make my mind turn from the fight we’d been having to making up.

  We’d never had make-up sex before.

  But we were about to if the feel of her hand running up my bare side had anything to say about it.

  “Georgia, we need to talk about birth…” I tried, but the feel of her lips running along my nipple made me lose my train of thought.

  My hand went up, tangling in her hair and I said, “I didn’t think that nipple play would be what did it for me.”

  It did, though. It made my dick go from half-mast to full-blown, raging hard on in milliseconds.

  She whimpered when she pressed herself against me and felt the way my cock tented the front of my jeans.

  Her mouth switched to my other nipple while her hands went down and found the belt of my jeans.

  My hand went down to the gun that I had at my back, and I withdrew it, then set it on the counter.

  In the nick of time, too, because in the next moment my pants were down around my ankles, as were my underwear.

  My erection bounced free, smacking against her belly like a heavy weight.

  Pre-cum oozed from the tip, wetting her shirt where it came to rest on her stomach, but she didn’t care.

  Instead, she ripped the shirt free from her body and threw it across the room.

  It hooked on the faucet, the tail end hanging down to trail in a pot that I’d had soaking in the sink.

  Neither one of us paid it another thought as she started in on her bra next.

  It was one of those ones that clasped in the front, and it took her practically no time at all to get it unlatched.

  Her breasts fell free and bounced, finally settling in place with her nipples pebbled. Breasts heavy with arousal. Her chest and face were flushed, her eyes dilated.

  I took all that in at a glance, waiting to see what she’d do next.

  In all of our sexual encounters, it’d always been me who initiated sex.

  This was new to me.

  It surprised me how sensual she was.

  How eloquent her movements were.

  The skirt she had on would’ve been next to go, except she surprised me, yet again, by yanking it up to pull her panties off rather than removing it altogether.

  Then, without another word, she turned around and bent over the kitchen table.

  Saliva pooled in my mouth as she looked over her shoulder at me, wiggling her ass.

  I smiled and stepped out of my jeans that were still around my ankles.

  My dick bounced with each step I took and her eyes stayed glued to the movement.

  Licking her lips, she laid down completely on the table, spreading her legs slightly more before grabbing a hold of the edge and waiting.

  Anticipation raced through my veins.

  When I finally got close enough to her, I dropped down onto my knees and ran my hands up the outside of her thighs.

  They were smooth and soft, and oh so sexy.

  Her sex was at eye level with me as I leaned in and licked her.

  Her unique flavor bloomed on my tongue, and all good intentions of taking it slow flew out the fucking window.

  I buried my face in her pussy, smothering myself with her heat.

  I arrowed my tongue and plunged it into her core, nose running along her perineum as my hand came up and shot straight to her clit.

  I flicked it twice with the edge of my thumb, causing her to grind her pussy back into me.

  When I next came up for air, I buried two fingers in her dripping entrance and leaned back in to lick her hairless lips.

  She gasped and gyrated her hips as a moan escaped her lips.

  “Fuck me,” she pleaded.

  With two more flicks from my tongue and a curl from my fingers, I stood and lined my cock up to her entrance.

  She wiggled her ass and pushed back.

  I slammed into her, causing the table to move at least two inches across the kitchen floor.

  She screamed, but I didn’t slow.

  I knew it wasn’t a painful scream. It was a pleasurable one.

  She gasped with each thrust of my hips.

  Each time I pulled all the way out, letting my cock that was glistening with her juices stop at her entrance before I plowed back inside.

  Her screams became one long drawn out moan, and I felt that particular feeling start to tickle at the base of my balls.

  Each swing of my hips had my sac slapping against her clit.

  And when I felt her pussy start to tighten down on my dick, I lost my control on my release.

  The next thrust forward, my balls drew up, and my eyes squeezed shut.

  She screamed, and I felt the rhythmic pulse of her orgasm as it coursed through her.

  The tunnel my dick was shuttling into became slicker, and my orgasm took over.

  Her vaginal walls coaxed my release from the end of my dick.

  Hot, thick pulses of my cum shot into her channel in quick bursts, and I saw stars.

  My hands clenched down onto her ass, hard.

  I opened my eyes long moments later to my phone ringing in my discarded pants.

  “You may wanna get that,” she gasped.

  I laughed and pulled out of her pussy.

  My release leaked out of her entrance, trailing down the length of her lips to drip onto the table beneath.

  “You’re gonna have to clean this. Like for real.” She laughed as she pushed up to her elbows to look at me.

  I winked. “My cleaning lady’s on the fritz. I’ll have to see about hiring a new one.”

  She shook her head and reached for the shirt of mine that was laid over the back of the chair closest to her.

  Taking it, she wiped the table free of my cum and then started in on herself.

  “You know,” I teased. “I was planning to put that back on later.”

  She shrugged uncaringly. “Too damn bad.”

  The phone stopped ringing, and I couldn’t say that I cared too much.

  I found I quite liked makeup sex, and all of the worry I’d felt earlier had dissipated.

  However, by the time I got to my pants, it’d started up again.

  All that worry came back with a vengeance as I looked in trepidation at the readout.

  Shit.

  I answered the phone and put it up to my ear. “Pena.”

  “Hey,” Luke said tiredly. “I got something you need to see.”

  Chapter 17

  Shit just got real. Now watch while I light the fucker up.

  -Nico to his teammates

  Nico

  I was numb.

  My
head felt like there was white noise on full volume playing in it.

  “They’re alive,” I said, shaking my head. “They wouldn’t be any good to them dead. They have to be alive.”

  “The child, at least. If we’re lucky, the other kids. As for Candice and Guy, I’m assuming most of that blood is theirs. There’re tire tracks from Guy’s wheelchair throughout the entire room. And they lead down to the basement door,” Luke said from his standing point in the middle of the room.

  The only thing that kept racing through my mind, over and over again, was that I should’ve checked on them sooner.

  Maybe then none of this would’ve happened.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  This place was a goddamned disaster.

  Blood was everywhere.

  It looked sickly bright against the white carpet and white tile across the living room and into the kitchen.

  The added smear marks of what looked like something being dragged through the blood was even more disheartening.

  “How’d you know?” I asked, eyes focusing on a small baby blanket that was hanging partially off the loveseat, the very tip dragging in the blood next to the couch.

  The blood was slowly seeping up the length of the blanket as it was absorbed by the spongy material, and I shuddered.

  Other than the signs of a struggle and blood, there was no other evidence surrounding or inside of the scene.

  I’d been called only after the scene had been combed for any evidence. It’d still be a crime scene, but they’d no longer collect anything on it due to so many people running back and forth and throughout the area.

  When no one answered, I tried again.

  “How was this found?” I asked, eyes scanning the area some more.

  “Tip from your woman when we told her about the suicide. She was speaking with the receptionist about the chick she replaced.” Luke murmured, eyes blank.

  My brain was trying to comprehend just what my eyes were showing it, but it was a little slow on the uptake, and I was grateful.

  I felt very fondly for this family, and to know something bad had happened to them really shredded my heart into tiny little pieces.

  Suddenly, though, something occurred to me.

  “The dog. Where’s the dog?” I asked, my eyes darting around quickly.