Shaye grabbed the bag that sat at the top of the stairs and took it into the living room. Opening it up, she pulled out its contents. “We have some diapers, a few clothes and an empty bottle.” She turned over the diaper bag and dumped everything out so they could take a quick inventory.
However, as she gripped the bag, her fingers pressed against something hard and lumpy on the bottom of the bag. She let go to reveal a patch. It blended almost seamlessly with the bag, but as Shaye picked and pulled at the stitches at its edges, the patch gave way. She pulled off the patch and there, sitting on the bottom of the bag, was a small black plastic thing that looked a bit like a thumb drive. “What is this?”
Zoey walked over and took it out of her hand. She lifted it up, squinting as she tried to read something that was inscribed on the plastic. “Holy...they used our own gear against us. Bayural was one son of a...” Zoey looked at the baby and stopped before swearing. “This is one of our GPS trackers. We have them implanted in the guns that we sell to terrorist groups. It’s how we were supposed to find the Gray Wolves. Not the other way around.” She paused. “Those bastards used the baby like a goddamn Trojan Horse. And that goddamn woman...she never deserved to be a mother. At least he has us now, and a family who will love him.” Zoey’s voice cracked with emotion.
Zoey was right. Some people didn’t deserve to have children. Children were meant to be loved, cherished and protected—not thrown into the middle of a war zone.
Shaye shook her head as she stared at the tracker.
A thought sprang to the front of her mind and she tried hard to control her smile. She hadn’t been the one to bring their enemies upon them. She had merely been a part of a giant puzzle. Chad wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her against his body.
“I told you so,” he whispered into her ear. “I told you that none of this was your fault.”
She smiled up at him and bumped against him with her butt playfully. “I’m relieved. But has anyone ever told you that no one ever likes to hear ‘I told you so’?”
One of his eyebrows shot up. “Well, hello, Ms. Snark.”
She giggled. “No, you pronounce it Mrs. Martin.”
Chad laughed, the sound throaty and rich. He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on her neck.
Wyatt cleared his throat. “Speaking of children, the baby was part of the reason we wanted to come here today. If you are okay with it, we were hoping that we could adopt him.”
“You want to adopt Peanut?” Chad asked, surprised.
Wyatt nodded. “And actually, we’ve started calling him Peter for short.”
Chad chuckled. “You gave him a real name. I like it.” He turned to face her. “This sounds like a good idea to me—what do you think?”
Her heart lurched in her chest. Though she wanted nothing more than to take the baby and give him a home, she wasn’t in a position to provide for him as well as Gwen and Wyatt. They were married, had a home, family, stability. So much had happened in her life recently that Shaye held no doubt that she would need time to get herself back in order...even with Chad’s help.
She nodded through the pain. “I think it would be best. But I would love to be Peter’s auntie, and Chad his uncle.”
Chad walked over and put his hand in hers. He lifted their entwined hands and gave hers a soft, loving kiss. He must have known how hard the choice was, and from the pained but happy expression on his features, he was feeling the same.
But they had to do what was best for the baby.
Love was sacrifice, and true love was agony.
It was agony that had brought them together. Agony and grief had cemented their friendship, which then became something so wonderful that for years to come, each time she looked over at him, he would take her breath away.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Criminal Alliance by Angi Morgan.
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Seek thrills. Solve crimes. Justice served.
Dive into action-packed stories that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Solve the crime and deliver justice at all costs.
6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
Criminal Alliance
by Angi Morgan
Prologue
Last year
“Dammit, Hamilton. It doesn’t matter if you were right. You broke every rule we have. If it were up to me, I’d kick you to the curb like you deserve.” Major Clements slapped his hand against his thigh as he paced in front of the door.
Wade Hamilton stood at attention, something he’d rarely done since becoming a Texas Ranger. Eyes straight ahead, he couldn’t see his commander walking behind him. But hey, even if he stood directly in front, Wade couldn’t focus on the major’s expressions. His left eye was still swollen from the beating he’d taken a week ago and everything was blurry. He couldn’t judge if this was the end...or just a very long reprimand.
Wade could feel Major Clements just over his right shoulder. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the major’s hand clenched in a fist, the knuckles white from the tight grip. His supervisor had been angry before.
Yeah, several times before.
But hopefully, he could remember that Wade had saved lives. Didn’t that count for something? His partner had reminded him often enough that Wade trusted his gut too much. But this time Jack was grateful for it.
“It seems that I don’t have a final say,” the major continued. “Seems that someone at headquarters put in a good word. Who knows, maybe the woman you helped save talked with someone. Or maybe the top brass doesn’t want to have to explain why a Texas Ranger from Company B was fired after saving someone from the state fire marshal’s office. Hell, I have no idea.”
Major Clements’s boots struck the floor, paused and pivoted again.
It wasn’t the first time the major had given him a lecture. It was the first time he hadn’t been looking at Wade when he delivered it. No matter the words about how lucky he was and unknown friends at headquarters, Wade still wasn’t too sure about job security.
“I drew the line at the suggestion you be given a commendation. Rule breakers should not be rewarded. The example you’ve set is not a good one. I’m very disappointed in you, Lieutenant.” The major’s voice was tempered with sadness instead of anger.
“I understand, sir.”
“Good.” He walked back to his desk, putting both fists knuckle down on the polished wood and leaning toward Wade. “And yet, I don’t hear an apology or simple words like it won’t happen again.”
“That goes without saying, sir.”
“Do you really believe that, Wade? I hope you’ll at least try not to play the hero. You barely survived this time. But since I can’t fire you, in order to rein you in a bit...” He sat. A good sign that Wade hadn’t lost his job. “You’re benched.”
“Excuse me, sir?” Wade’s eyes moved to make contact with the major. One stern look was enough to have him back at attention. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Desk duty, Lieutenant. You’ll report here every day. And every day there will be files for you to work on. You are not to leave this office from the hours of nine to five. I don’t want to hear about you even going for lunch. You got me?”
“Loud and clear, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
“But what about the case, sir?” Wade looked just above the major’s head, concentrating on keeping his eyes from pleading with the man in charge of his fate. “We only touched the surface of what crimes Rushdan Reval is behind. This is our way into that scumbag’s organization.”
“We’ve been ordered to stand down, Lieutenant. I said dismissed.”
Wade left the office barely able to swallow, feeling grateful that he had a job, wondering how he’d survive sifting through files—especially paperwork that wasn’t even his—and disa
ppointed in himself that he’d been close to accessing Reval’s group and had messed up...bad.
His partner, Jack MacKinnon, gave him a “what’s up” look from across the room. Slate Thompson and Heath Murray, along with the other Company B Rangers, gave him a wide berth and no eye contact. They all probably thought he was heading to his desk to clean it out. No one really expected him to keep his job, his rank or his anything.
He made it to his desk, still using the crutch the hospital had forced on him. Honestly, he could barely see his chair since his left eye was killing him. It was the roll-y thing behind the big block of wood. Yeah, he could joke but not laugh—the cracked ribs were too painful.
The doctors had been straight about the headaches that wouldn’t go away for a while. Even straighter about the possibility his sight might not ever be 100 percent again. Rest—sitting-down-and-not-moving kind of rest, to be more specific—was what they demanded.
They hadn’t cleared him for anything. But after two days of sitting inside his house, he’d finagled his recovering body behind the wheel of his truck and driven the fifteen minutes to headquarters. It had been more painful sliding out and hitting the ground with both feet.
He sat, putting the crutch on the floor next to the wall his desk was pushed against. He heard himself suck air through his teeth as he rolled into place.
“You okay?” Jack patted him lightly on the back. “Looks like you’re still employed.”
Dammit, he hadn’t seen Jack come up behind him. He jumped, then hissed again in pain.
“For the moment. And only at this wonderful desk.” He petted it like a dog.
“Always the cutup. How long?” his partner asked before sitting on the corner of his desk.
“You got me.” It hurt too much to shrug. And it hurt too much to focus across the aisle. Everything really was mostly a blur.
“Man, I’m not sure how long it’ll take for him to trust you again.” Jack rubbed his chin, then the back of his neck—or at least that was what it looked like through the fog. “I’m sort of surprised I’m not stuck here, too. On second thought, it was entirely your fault I was involved in the first place.”
“Don’t go there, man. Not only did you get to make a serious arrest because I asked for a favor, but you also got a girlfriend out of it. Who I should probably thank for saving my job with a word from her state-level boss. You can say that I’m responsible for setting you two lovebirds up.”
“You could say that.” Jack stood, removing his gun from his desk drawer and placing it in its holster. “But if you do, I might just have to kick your butt.” He laughed. “Your desk duty explains why I’m on loan to Dallas PD for a while.”
“They’re still shorthanded after the loss of their officers. You’d think the major would want me out there with you.”
His partner raised his eyebrows almost into his hairline. “Get real. You know I trust you with my life. But man, you got to learn to play the game. Rangers have a specific duty and—”
“And are restricted to following the law. Yeah, I know. I heard that lecture for the past hour while standing at attention. I thought the major would go harder on me if I reminded him I’m having problems standing.”
Jack clapped him on the shoulder. Wade tried not to wince. He was determined to force his body to at least stay upright.
“I was going to say,” Jack continued, “that we have a proud tradition. Our motto might be ‘One Riot, One Ranger,’ but that doesn’t mean it has to be us doing things alone. I’m here for you. Always will be. No matter what.”
“Thanks, Jack. It’s appreciated.”
“Keep your head down and fly under the radar. Don’t go looking for trouble.”
“I never look, man. It just always seems to find me. Watch your back since I won’t be there to protect you.”
“Like you did by getting beat up so bad you can’t stand?”
“Three cracked ribs isn’t too bad.” He squinted through his good eye. “Besides, they took me by surprise.”
“Right.”
Wade watched his partner leave the office without him, passing one of the clerks on his way. A clerk with a box, heading straight toward his desk.
“Major Clements said you should go through these, Wade.” She dropped the box on the floor next to his chair. “You need to verify that all the appropriate reports are in order and scanned or the data inputted. Basically, that everything’s ready for trial or to turn over to headquarters. When you’re done, I have the rest of the alphabet waiting.” She turned to leave but pivoted back to his desk. “Remember that these files need to be locked up each night.”
Wade lifted the lid and pulled the folder at the end... Carla Byrnhearst. “That’s just great.” One box got him through two letters. He shoved the file back inside and pulled the Ader file from the other end.
Keep his head down.
Do the time at his desk.
Accept the punishment.
Keep his job.
He could do this. He’d wanted to be a Texas Ranger for too long. One man had put everything on the line to keep him from a life of crime. After that, all his focus had been toward obtaining that goal. College, Texas DPS, the highway patrol, three long years near the border and finally an opening and assignment to Company B.
These men were his brothers now. His desk phone rang and he answered.
“Hey, sexy. Just checking up on you.”
Therese. Trouble did have a habit of finding him.
God, just the woman’s voice sent electricity shooting through his veins. Where had she been? Where was she now? Last week in the hospital, he’d forced another ranger to run Therese Ortis’s name. She should have been awaiting trial for her involvement with Rushdan Reval, the Dallas crime syndicate leader who had just tried to kill him. But there had been nothing.
“I guess I owe you something—at least dinner—for saving my life.” His mind was already following the steps to have the call traced.
He’d seen her once. Spoken to her fewer than half a dozen times. And he was caught, dangling at the end of her string. In fact, he’d swallowed her enticing voice and innuendos hook, line and sinker.
“Even though I’d enjoy that very much, I don’t think it would help you get off desk duty,” she purred.
“You’re the one who kept me my job?”
“Ladies never kiss and tell, Wade.” She paused long enough to let the words have their desired effect. “Gotta run, Ranger Big Man. Till next time.”
“Wait...”
Too late. The line disconnected. He didn’t have to inquire about the number—he knew it would be a dead end. Just like each time before. His mystery woman had a habit of swooping in for the save and disappearing until she needed him again.
He opened the file and started. With any luck, he could get through a letter each day. Twenty-six days stuck in a chair. Behind a desk. Watching his fellow rangers do the heavy lifting.
No playing hero.
Most investigating happened from a chair anyway. Sitting here would give him plenty of time to discover just what the mystery surrounding his lady was all about. Yeah, he could do this. Especially now that he was properly motivated.
And man oh man...he was definitely motivated to find Therese Ortis.
Copyright © 2020 by Angela Platt
Keep reading for an excerpt from Heartbreaker by B.J. Daniels.
Heartbreaker
by B.J. Daniels
CHAPTER ONE
Her eyes flew open, her fight or flight response already wide awake. She jerked up in the bed, blinking wildly, terrified and yet unable to believe what she was seeing. Three hulking dark forms appeared out of the shadows of the huge master bedroom. One of the men tripped over her duffel bag on the floor where she’d dropped it. He swore as he kicked it out of the way.
Sh
e tried hopelessly to banish the men back into whatever nightmare they’d climbed out of, realizing the stumble must have been what had awakened her.
All she could think rationally was that this couldn’t be happening, because these men being here tonight was so wrong.
But before she could open her mouth to speak—let alone scream—the largest of the three intruders reached her side of the king-size bed. Roughly he pushed her down and clamped a gloved hand over her mouth. This was real.
She finally screamed, but the gloved hand over her mouth muffled the sound. Not that it would have done any good if she had hollered to bloody hell. There was no one else in the house to come to her rescue—let alone anyone nearby. The house was high on the mountainside overlooking Flathead Lake, surrounded by acres of forest and as isolated as money could buy.
Frantically she shook her head as she met the man’s eyes, the only feature not hidden by his black ski mask, and tried to communicate with him that she wasn’t the woman he wanted.
“Don’t fight me,” the man said in a hoarse whisper as he renewed his efforts to hold her down. “We don’t want to hurt you.”
But she did fight because they were making a terrible mistake and they didn’t know it. That realization sent panic rocketing through her system. Her heart banged against her rib cage, her thundering pulse deafening in her ears. She fought to pull the clamp from her mouth.
If she could only explain the error they were making. Failing in her attempts to pull away his gloved hand, she struck out with her fists as her legs kicked wildly to free themselves from the covers. All she’d managed to do was to make things worse. He leaned over her, pressing his body weight against her chest with his forearm, taking away her breath.
“Did you find it?” the man holding her down demanded of the other two. They had produced flashlights, she saw, and were now searching the room. She could hear one of them at the dressing table knocking over bottles of expensive perfume and rejuvenating skin creams.
Protective Operation Page 18
