Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set

by Lani Lynn Vale

  I did, and then some.

  “Daddy,” I gasped into the toilet bowl. “Why’d you let me eat so much popcorn?”

  He snorted. “Because you don’t know how to listen.”

  Chapter 13

  Shut your 3.1415926 hole.

  -T-shirt

  Mercy

  “Alright boys,” I said to the crew. “Wrap it up so we can go home. Remember we have a three-day weekend to celebrate Easter, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Brock laughed. “Don’t forget we have that meeting with the realtors on Tuesday, okay?”

  I nodded, gave him a thumb’s up, and said my goodbyes.

  I walked out of the freshly painted house that we were building, waved to Maine, and moved quickly to my car.

  The drive to my place was short, and I was thankful because I was exhausted.

  This pregnancy shit ain’t no joke.

  Add in painting an entire living room on top of that, and it equaled out to one very tired Mercy.

  Miller was waiting for me when I pulled into my driveway.

  I lived in a small, middle-class home in one of the older neighborhoods in Kilgore.

  The outside of my house was painted a dark gray, while the shutters on the sides of the windows accented with a deep red. The front of my house had flowerbeds that begged for weeding; yet, I just hadn’t had the time.

  I had a large oak tree with a wooden swing attached to one low hanging branch, and that was where Miller was currently sitting, pushing off lazily with one foot planted on the ground, while the other planted on the seat of the swing.

  He was wearing blue jeans, brown cowboy boots, a white t-shirt, and a black SWAT hat.

  He looked better today than he had last night.

  Last night he’d just come to get me and then had taken me to his place.

  His only reason had been that he hadn’t wanted to leave Foster alone.

  I hadn’t argued, and I’d gone to bed with a very silent Miller at my side. He hadn’t explained, and I hadn’t asked. I didn’t want to push him, but I had hoped he’d have at least told me what was going on.

  When I’d woken up, he’d been gone and at work for over an hour, and Foster had been there to take me home.

  I’d learned in a news conference, put on by Downy, that Devon’s fingerprints had been linked to a long-standing case that had happened three years ago, of a woman who’d been raped, then murdered. Her body had been found in the Sabine River, and the only thing they had to go on, evidence wise, had been a fingerprint.

  Since it hadn’t matched anybody’s who’d been in the system, there was nothing they could do.

  His prints had been scanned the day he’d been taken to jail, but his lawyer had been there to bail Sarah, as well as Devon, out the moment they’d walked into the police station.

  So he hadn’t been there long before he was out again.

  The prints had pinged about two hours later, and that’s when the arrest warrant had been served. However, Devon had known that he’d be pinged for it since the murder had been broadcast far and wide throughout the region.

  He’d been in hiding at a friend’s place when he’d been found.

  Law enforcement officials had chased him all the way to the bank, where he’d climbed the outside emergency ladder that had been on the side of the building. That was when the standoff had occurred, leading to the SWAT team’s arrival.

  I pulled into my drive and parked underneath the awning.

  Miller didn’t move from his spot, causing me to frown.

  He’d never once failed to meet me at my door if he was aware that I’d arrived. Never once.

  I knew he’d seen me pull in; I’d watched his head follow my progression down the street from a quarter-mile away. Hell, he’d heard me, too.

  Grabbing my purse, I exited the car and started to walk slowly over to him.

  “Hey,” I said once I was close enough.

  I noticed that he had bags under his eyes. Those baby blues didn’t shine like they usually did; they were hard and wary. Not that it was a surprise that he’d be tired; he’d been gone half the night with that call and he had to be on shift at six this morning after that.

  “Hey,” he said in his deep, rumbly voice.

  I tried to sit down on the swing beside him, but he caught me around the hips and directed my ass to his lap.

  I took the direction easily, sitting on his lap and pulling my feet up onto the wooden bench.

  His arms encircled my upper body, and he pulled me in close, resting his head on the top of mine.

  This was new for us.

  Although we were affectionate, and he kissed me every once in a while, he was always respectful of my personal space. Which got to be a bit annoying at times. Sometimes I just wanted him to be him and me to be me.

  I wanted him to grab me from behind and try to scare me like I saw him do James’ wife, Shiloh, the other day while we’d been eating out with them.

  I wanted him to wrap his arms around me and kiss me desperately.

  I wanted him to be the man he wanted to be, without gauging his desires beforehand. He was always careful not to do something that he thought might scare me and, although I was grateful, I wanted to be normal.

  To have normal with him.

  And this, sitting in his lap, felt normal.

  It felt right.

  “We’re waiting on Foster, then we can go,” he rumbled.

  His voice even sounded tired. Poor guy.

  “Do you want me to drive? Didn’t you both have to work today?” I asked softly.

  He shook his head. “Yeah, we both had to work. But we can handle it.”

  “Hmm,” I said, not agreeing nor disagreeing with him.

  I’d found that Miller did what he wanted, regardless of his limitations.

  For instance, he’d fixed the sink in my house.

  When I didn’t have the right tools, he’d improvised. Mostly by using his brute strength rather than letting me go buy a new tool that could’ve saved him a lot of trouble and time.

  I found it easier just to let him do what he was going to do.

  “How was your day?” he asked, rubbing his hand up and down my back.

  I smiled, resting my head against his collarbone.

  “It was great,” I yawned. “But I’m so tired I could sleep for hours.”

  He chuckled, causing me to bounce up and down on his chest.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “I know the feeling. How were you going to drive if you were tired, though?”

  I shrugged, jostling his head that was still resting on the top of mine.

  “I’d have stayed awake,” I mumbled to him.

  Maybe. Probably.

  “Hmm,” he said. “Everybody left you alone?”

  I nodded. “I didn’t go anywhere out in public but out to lunch with the guys. They’re like a human fortress, though. Nobody got within ten feet of me except for the waitress, and she was new in town, so she didn’t know me.”

  “Good,” he said, sounding pleased that the guys had taken care of me.

  Although I found it nice that they were doing that, they couldn’t be there forever.

  When my belly started to grow, and I couldn’t hide my pregnancy anymore, I was sure the gossip mills would start running full force.

  “How was work?” I asked, running my palm up and down his chest.

  “Long. It was fun, though. Foster got to help deliver a baby with the paramedic today,” Miller laughed.

  I smiled. “How’d that go over for him?”

  Foster, from what I could tell, was baby-phobic.

  He liked his nieces and nephews, don’t get me wrong, but there was just something about the small ones that freaked him out.

  Like a few weeks ago, I met Miller and Foster while they were having lunch. While we were eating, some woman had come up to Foster and asked him if he’d be willing to take a
picture with her baby.

  I’d had a good laugh because Foster had looked so incredibly uncomfortable holding the child that it was hilarious to me.

  A big, badass police officer was scared of a tiny kid.

  Foster chose that moment to pull into the driveway, and Miller waited to answer until his truck was turned off and he started toward us.

  When Foster got to within three feet of us, he said, “Alright, boys and girls. Who the fuck is ready to fly?” announcing his presence.

  I raised my brows at him, and he smirked at me.

  Raising my legs with one hand, Foster sat down on the empty space where my feet had been, and I heard the swing groan.

  “Oh, Jesus,” I whispered, looking up at the branch. “Just don’t swing us and I think we’ll be okay.”

  Foster snorted and pushed off with both feet.

  “It’ll be fine,” he said laughingly.

  ***

  “Would you two stop it?” I said in exasperation.

  Miller turned his pissed off eyes to me and glared. “I deserve the right to glare at him.”

  “Yeah, well maybe you should do it when we’re not getting frisked and cavity searched,” I snapped.

  A giggle from the other side of airport security had me turning to see a very beautiful, black-haired woman. Trance, Miller’s other brother, had his arm wrapped around her, hugging her to him closely.

  “What the hell are all of them doing here?” Miller rumbled by my side.

  His eyes weren’t on the black-haired beauty, however, they were on…

  I stiffened and turned my head past the pretty black-haired woman to a wall of… leather.

  There were seven of them in total, and they all had women with them. All except the last two. Those two were older. One reminded me of Dumbledore… or Santa. The other one reminded me of Sam Elliott with his badass beard, and salt and pepper hair.

  They were all dressed nearly identical. Blue jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a t-shirt. They also had a leather vest over those t-shirts that I’d learned, from watching Sons of Anarchy, were called ‘cuts.’

  Airport security was giving them a wide berth, but they kept their eye on them nonetheless.

  From what I’d heard about The Dixie Wardens, these men were heroes, every single one of them. Their wives were heroes, too, for supporting them.

  I just hoped, one day, I’d be able to give Miller what their wives gave to them.

  I’d heard nothing but good about them.

  “They wanted to come and mom invited them,” Trance shrugged.

  Miller sighed. “You know, I wanted this to be low key. You know this is going to get out of hand. Really quick.”

  Trance wasn’t the one who nodded, though. It was the woman on his arm.

  “Especially since there’s drinking allowed on the plane.” The woman smiled.

  I blinked. “Why would that matter?” I asked curiously.

  “My baby brother is scared to fly. So he drinks until he forgets he’s in the air,” Miller drawled, emptying his pockets in the box that the airport security provided him.

  Then he removed his shoes, jacket, and belt, dropping them down on the scanner table.

  His stuff zipped through, and it was my turn to empty my pockets and put my carry-on bag through the scanner.

  “Ma’am,” the man said. “You need to step to the side over there.”

  I followed his finger to the woman who was standing at the screen waving me over.

  “Why?” I asked the very jittery looking man.

  “Random additional body and baggage search,” the man said, eyeing the men who were now crowding around the checkpoint waiting for me. “I swear it’s just random, but my boss is over there making sure we do it, so I can’t say no. I’m sorry.”

  Trance, Miller, and Foster all looked formidable standing there with their arms crossed tightly across their chest. But the really scary thing was the men at their backs. Also with their arms crossed.

  My eyes squinted in confusion, but nonetheless, I took my bag and body over for the ‘additional body search.’

  I walked over to the woman with trepidation, giving Miller a ‘stay the fuck there’ glare as I went.

  The woman watched the interaction, and smiled a killer smile at me, waving me in.

  “Don’t worry, big boy. I’ll take care of her,” the security worker said to Miller before shutting the curtain behind us. “Alright honey, let’s do it.”

  Five minutes later, I was slipping on my shoes and coming out of the curtained off area with a laughing woman behind me.

  “Have fun out there, and thank you for being such a good sport,” the woman said, handing me a card.

  I took it. “Thank you, LaShondra. It was good meeting you. I’ll definitely give your daughter a call!”

  Miller caught me once I got past the gate, sending another glare at the woman who waved at him conspiringly.

  “What was that about?” he asked me, pulling me into his side.

  “I told her the smell here was making me nauseous, and she gave me her daughter’s card who sells essential oils. She said she used the peppermint during her pregnancy, and that if I was curious about it, to give her daughter a text,” I said, showing him the card.

  “Where do you put this oil?” he asked curiously. “And you didn’t tell me you were nauseous.”

  “I wasn’t nauseous until you started driving like a maniac to try to make your brother car sick,” I muttered.

  He grinned unrepentantly at me. “It was worth it, I’m sorry.”

  “What happened to y’all?” Trance asked when he noticed Foster and Miller walking stiffly at my side.

  I giggled, turning my face into Miller’s arm as he replied.

  “Your stupid little brother sat on Mercy’s swing, then swung his legs. The chains snapped, and you can guess what happened after that,” Miller growled, turning a glare on Foster.

  I full out laughed at the innocent expression on his face.

  “I didn’t think it’d break!” Foster said loudly.

  I winked at him and took a seat next to the dark-haired woman, holding my hand out as I did so. “Hi, you must be Viddy.”

  She smiled at me, taking my hand. “I’d like to go ahead and apologize for my husband now.”

  My brows furrowed. “Miller told me he didn’t like flying… but is it really that bad?”

  She nodded sadly. “Yes. I tried to talk him into taking some antianxiety meds, but he refused. So, by the time we land in Vegas, he’ll be drunker than a skunk. He also gets chatty when he gets drunk.”

  “I most certainly do not!” Trance argued from his seat on the opposite side of her.

  ***

  “What did he just say?” I gasped, leaning over Miller’s lap to see Trance in the seat behind me.

  Viddy’s face was flaming red, and she sank down even further into her seat.

  We’d practically taken over the entire first-class section, luckily they’d not overheard that particular comment.

  Miller buried his face into my belly, smothering his cries of laughter with my shirt and stomach.

  “It’s time to come clean, you fat motherfucker!” Trance yelled again.

  “What kind of name is Dixie, anyway?” I asked, turning my face down to see Miller’s face.

  His face was still buried in my belly, but I heard him say, “Ask him.”

  Thinking ‘why the hell not,’ I leaned in and asked Dixie, who was seated across the aisle from Trance.

  “What’s up with your name?” I asked curiously.

  Dixie, a.k.a. Santa, turned to me and grinned. “My real name is Normus.”

  “So how does Dixie fit in?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Dixie Normus,” he said as if talking to a slow child.

  My brows furrowed, and Miller started roaring in laughter.

  I could feel the laughing puffs of air
against the skin of my belly, and my nipples tightened at the feel of him against me.

  “Dixie Normus… oh, shit,” I said, throwing my head back and laughing right along with the rest of the men.

  “Oh, man,” Foster said from the seat in front of me. “Why does that never get old?”

  “Probably because you’ve got the mental capacity of a thirteen-year-old,” Viddy muttered darkly.

  Chapter 14

  The sex was so good that even the neighbors had a cigarette.

  -T-shirt

  Mercy

  I walked beside Viddy as we walked down the hallway from the plane’s exit.

  My eyes were on Trance, who was, indeed, drunk. He was barely putting one foot in front of the other, and I honestly didn’t know how he was walking with the amount of alcohol he’d consumed.

  He hadn’t looked that drunk when he’d been sitting; although, once he’d stood up that all had changed.

  Miller, however, had been expecting it because he caught him before his knees even had a chance to buckle.

  “What’s the deal here? Why does he hate to fly so much?” I asked, turning my gaze to Viddy.

  Her mouth curled in the corner as she said, “I don’t think he has a ‘reason.’ More, I just think it’s a phobia of his. He says he’s had it since he was a teenager when 9-11 happened. I don’t blame him. That day affected us all. Some large, and some small. But still just as important.”

  I nodded.

  I could see how that’d scare him. Hell, I couldn’t say that it hadn’t crossed my mind as the plane started taking off.

  We stayed silent as we walked down the hallway, and into the main part of the airport.

  I could hear boots clunking behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to see Silas there.

  Silas, I’d found out, was the president of the motorcycle club that Trance belonged to.

  He was in his early fifties, from what I’d been told, but the man could totally pass for late thirties. I hadn’t realized he was the father of Sebastian. Another man I’d met only today.

  Sebastian and Silas looked as if they could be brothers, instead of father and son.

  Silas smiled at me when he caught my eyes on him and gave me a wink.

  “You ready to meet the parents?” he asked.