by Laura Acton
Belonging
Hope, Truth and Malice
Beauty of Life
Book Three
Laura Acton
Copyright © 2017 by Laura Acton
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise except for use of brief quotations in a book review.
Belonging: Hope, Truth and Malice is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Also by Laura Acton
Beauty of Life series:
Forsaken: On the Edge of Oblivion
Solace: Behind the Shield
Acknowledgements
Lisa, Venetia, Julianne, and Martha you are my very own cheer squad.
I couldn’t do it without you four ladies.
Thank you for all your awesome input and support!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Sneak Peek – OUTLIER: Blood, Brotherhood and Beauty
About the Author
Belonging
Hope, Truth and Malice
Chapter One
July 16
Outside Tactical Response Force Headquarters – 5:25 a.m.
Daniel Broderick felt so drained. He managed to open the door of the patrol car without hissing in pain as he moved his right arm. He painstakingly slow got out as he mumbled quietly, “Thanks for the ride.” Dan used his hip to shut the car door then glanced at the Toronto Police Tactical Response Force Headquarters.
Through the open car window, Constable Marc Fargusson quickly replied, “Just doing my job.” As the seasoned patrol officer drove away, he could only shake his head slowly and thought, I’ve been on the job a long time, too long. I’ve seen so much over the decades. But never, ever something like this. How did the TRF constables do it? Day in and day out they dealt with stuff like this. It would take a strong, resilient person to handle the burdens of their job.
Marc doubted he could ever do what they did. He silently chided himself for not saying something different, something helpful, or comforting. That young man was in so much pain—physically and emotionally. Marc could see it etched into the officer’s face and all he said to him was ‘just doing my job’. How pathetic could he get? Marc was normally better with words—he’d learned the value of them long ago. Words could and had saved lives.
He wished he could turn around and say something more meaningful to the young constable. But he sighed and continued to drive back to the station because his shift had officially ended hours ago and he was exhausted.
Dan stood in the parking lot—for how long, he didn’t know—as the words ‘just doing my job’ rolled in his head. That’s my mantra, Dan dully thought.
His head hung down, not moving, stone-cold still, not even breathing. He finally succumbed to the burning need for air and took a slow painful breath in, followed by a slow painful exhale. Cracked ribs sucked.
He was so tired and it hurt so much. Could he walk in? Should he walk away? Dan’s heart, mind, and soul were torn to bloody shreds and so very conflicted. His physical body wasn’t in much better shape, but at least it wasn’t bleeding out uncontrollably like his heart and soul were.
Dan lifted his head slowly and looked at the building. Here, this place, was where family was—a new beginning and a sense of belonging he’d known and lost twice before joining Alpha Team.
But after yesterday?
Was it really just twenty-four hours ago when he’d arrived here so happy? Yeah, only twenty-four hours. So much had happened in just that short period of time.
Did he belong anymore? Did they still want him? Would they care if he left? Had he blown it again? Would he be forsaken a third time?
He let his head drop back down as he thought about the first time he was forsaken, at just nine years old. He’d been disowned and abandoned—rejected by his parents after he failed to save his sister. All he got from the General was censure—he was never good enough. He was told that he wasn’t worthy, that he didn’t belong because he’d failed to save his little sister, and that he should’ve died instead of Sara.
After Sara’s death, he was whisked off to the Arctic Special Forces base in the northern Yukon Territory. He grew up in isolation—in his very own ice prison—cut off from everyone he ever cared about. The General showed him no acceptance, no tolerance, and no concern.
The General didn’t want him, but nonetheless demanded perfection. Dan could never measure up no matter how hard he tried—there was only unfulfilled expectation of being the perfect son. No, not son, not son, that was wrong. The General didn’t want a son—he wanted a soldier. A perfect soldier! But he didn’t measure up there, either—he’d nearly died trying to be what his father wanted. Why had he tried for so long?
No, he hadn’t tried for the General, at least not only for the General … he mostly did it because it was Brody’s dream to be in Special Forces. He joined for Brody, but when he killed Brody … staying was impossible. He’d flipped off the General, literally and figuratively, as he broke with generations-old family tradition and left the military while he was still young, able-bodied, and alive.
He’d lost his second family—his unit brothers—the day he killed Brody. They’d forsaken him because he committed the most heinous sin—he killed one of their own—he killed their brother.
Pain so deep … Breathe, remember to breathe, slowly.
Could his new chosen family want someone like him around? Could they accept him after what had happened yesterday? It was only yesterday that the pieces had all
clicked together and he finally felt like he really belonged.
Joining Alpha Team was no walk in the park. Not one of them wanted him on the team. They’d made it abundantly clear for months, but then something changed and things got better. They’d accepted him … but would they, could they, after yesterday? He just didn’t know.
Would he find solace or condemnation with them now?
Dan forced himself to take a slow deep breath in. God, it hurt so much.
“I’m a killer. I was trained to be one since I was old enough to hold a gun. No emotions, breathe in, hold, aim, squeeze softly like a caress between heartbeats, and snuff out a life,” Dan said softly to no one.
Was NRB Agent Dick Donner, right? Was he unfit? Was he too quick on the trigger? Was he a murderer? Was he a liability to his team?
Dan blanched as he recalled Agent Donner’s accusations. “Six! Six, Broderick! Do you hear me? Six people you killed today! Without a second thought. In cold blood. You murdered six people! You’re so sure of yourself, so cocky, too fast on the trigger. Your badge isn’t a license to kill. You murdered Aaron—you’re a murderer. Even if you didn’t pull the trigger, you killed him. How can you even believe you’re fit to be a TRF officer? You put your team at risk every time. With every person you kill, you put blood on their hands, too!”
A deep sigh escaped, followed by a shaky shallow intake of breath. His body hurt too much to take anything other than shallow breaths.
Dan lifted his head slightly again and started to move listlessly towards the entrance. Time to face whatever was coming. He was many things, but a coward wasn’t one of them. Even if it ripped the last vestige of his soul from him, Dan would face his team.
It was all his fault. Wasn’t it? So much blood on his hands, he’s the one that pulled the trigger six times. No, wait … only five times. But six deaths belonged to him because he failed to be quick enough on the fourth shot.
“Crap, I’m so confused … death comes if I’m too fast or too slow.”
He kept moving towards the entrance. Just a few more steps and he’d be at the door. He would endure whatever they threw his way. He always did. He would allow them to vent every hateful feeling they had for him and pin the blame for all this blood where it squarely fit—on him.
Dan would take it in, push it down, seal it in the dark, thick-walled place he contained all his hurt, shame, guilt, inadequacy, and failures. He’d never let it show. His mask, his shields, and his walls were well-built after years of construction.
His hand on the door, Dan reminded himself, Breathe, just breathe …
Chapter Two
Rollback Time Two Days …
July 14
Fire Stick Grill – 10:00 p.m.
Lexa McKenna laughed as she set her beer down. Dan was in rare form tonight. She enjoyed having dinner with him—so much so, that they’d lost track of time. From the secluded table that Jarmal nearly always had available for them, Lexa glanced around the restaurant and noticed only a handful of people were in it—mostly staff doing clean up.
She smiled at Dan and said, “We should be going. Looks like closing time.”
Dan turned to look and noticed what Lexa had—only two other tables were occupied and both were paying their bills. He turned back to Lexa and grinned. Tonight was a good night and Dan didn’t want it to end just yet. “How about we head over to Timmy’s and hang out in the back of your Jeep for a bit?”
“We have shift in …” Lexa checked her watch, “… seven hours. We’ve had dinner and should really be in bed by now.”
Dan leaned back and grinned. He let her words sink in as his eyes twinkled with a good memory and the light of the candle between them. His mind rolled back to last July 14. Dinner, yeah dinner.
Lexa watched Dan’s eyes and bit her lower lip as she recognized the spark of heat in his velvety sapphire eyes. Another Freudian slip. Those had been happening far too often in the last few weeks—ever since she’d nearly kissed him in the locker room. She huffed out, “You know what I mean.”
“Do I?” Dan drawled lazily with a suggestive wink, followed by an innocent lopsided grin.
“Ooooo, Broderick. I swear I’m gonna have to stop having dinner with you.” Lexa reached for her purse and pulled out her credit card—trying desperately to suppress the pangs of craving that were building in her.
Dan chuckled. ‘Having dinner’ had had a very different connotation one year ago—he’d love to have dinner with her like that again. But Lexa was never going to let that happen. She’d told him in clear terms that it wouldn’t be repeated. In fact, in her mind, their one night of sizzling hot sex at the Grand Citadel Hotel had never happened. In his mind, it was quite a different story. It was a night he would never forget—and something he craved to repeat, despite the risks.
He reached for his wallet and said, “I got tonight. I owe you for two days ago when I forgot my wallet.” Dan pulled out cash and put it on the table then he stood up. “Ready?”
Lexa nodded and put her credit card away. She picked up the bag of double chocolate chunk cookies that Jarmal always gave her and motioned to Dan not to forget his bag of oatmeal raisin walnut cookies. Then the two of them headed out of the restaurant after waving goodnight to Jarmal and D’Ante Tate.
Jarmal watched Dan go and smiled. His friend was looking so good. He’d worried about him for a long time and never thought he’d see Dan laugh and smile so much again. It was good to see him move forward with his life. Jarmal was glad that Dan was happier now. He turned to D’Ante and asked, “How much you wanna bet that she’s the one that’s gonna hook him?”
D’Ante laughed. “Another bachelor bites the dust. Speaking of which, how are things going with Tia Walsh, your pretty little TRF dispatcher?”
Jarmal’s grin faded. “Sadly, our schedules just don’t mesh. She’s sweet as pie, but I just don’t think it’s gonna go anywhere romantic with her. We’ll be friends and I hope that one day she finds her perfect main dish.”
Shaking his head, D’Ante said, “Everything’s food with you. Time to expand your vocabulary, brother.”
Shrugging, Jarmal replied, “I’ll find my creampuff one day and she’ll appreciate my way of speaking. Come on. Help me finish up with the books so you can get home to your cupcake.”
As they headed for the office, his phone rang. He checked his caller ID and smiled. His voice happy, Jarmal answered, “Hey Squid, how’s the Navy treating you, little brother?”
D’Ante shouted towards the phone, “Marquise, if you’d call me you’d get called by your real name.”
Jarmal shoved his older brother playfully, “Hush, Squid called me. You just have to wait your turn.” Then back to the phone, Jarmal said, “So, how’s everything?”
As they got to the office, Jarmal put the phone on speaker. Three of the four Tate brothers had a great time catching up with each other’s lives because they hadn’t seen Marquise since their Christmas ski trip. It was late, very late by the time they finally hung up.
Outside Fire Stick Grill – 10:05 p.m.
After putting his sack of cookies in his go bag and zipping it, Dan reached for his helmet that was also in Lexa’s Jeep. She was standing at the rear of the Jeep flicking her keys around her finger as he got his stuff out of the rear passenger seat. Dan slung his go bag over his shoulder then walked to the back of the Jeep after shutting the door.
“Tonight was fun,” Lexa said as the keys continued to circle her finger.
Dan stopped closer to Lexa than he should, invading her personal space. It was getting harder and harder to resist the pull to be close to her, to kiss her. Dan nodded. “Yeah.”
Lexa couldn’t seem to get her feet to listen to her rational mind, which was telling her to leave, leave now. Her feet remained solidly in place, defying rational behavior. The desire to kiss Dan was burning a hole in her. She wanted to taste his lips again. She had to remind herself to breathe, he was so close. When she did she took in his woodsy, mu
sky scent and it nearly undid her.
It was a year ago today that she’d slept with Dan, a one-night stand that Lexa couldn’t get out of her head. She’d dated a few other guys since then, but she kept measuring them against Dan. They always fell short in some way.
Lexa stared at his lips and felt the electrical current that crackled between them when they were close. She wanted him … badly, really, really badly.
Dan gazed at Lexa’s eyes. They weren’t on his—they were staring at his mouth. Yeah, he wanted to kiss her, too. All he could think about was that fateful night, exactly a year ago, when she’d sauntered into the Grand Citadel bar. Her hair flowed around her face just like that night. He ached to run his fingers through her rich, dark auburn hair again. He wanted to …
Lexa’s keys spun off her finger and fell to the ground. She ignored them as she leaned in close, unable to resist those oh-so-kissable lips any longer.
Dan started to bend down to retrieve Lexa’s keys, but found himself face to face with her, a fraction of an inch separating their lips. Dan’s heart skipped a beat as he forgot to breathe. His helmet slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground—forgotten.
Lips came together softly at first as Dan’s hands reached around Lexa and drew her close. He pulled back slightly and their eyes met. Passion flared in hazel and blue eyes. Their lips crashed together with long-suppressed need. Lexa molded her body to Dan as he pulled her close. Resistance was futile—primal attraction had finally won.
Breathing heavily, Dan asked, “Your place or mine?”
“Mine’s closer,” Lexa said as she continued to kiss him. After several more minutes of heated kissing, she reluctantly pulled back. Lexa saw the glazed look in Dan’s eyes. She blew out a shaky breath. “You okay to ride?”
Dan grinned, “Yeah. You okay to drive?”
“Yeah.” She leaned down to get her keys and Dan’s helmet.
Watching Lexa’s bottom as she bent over, Dan felt a surge of lust—he was really going to do this. He was going to risk everything he had attained to be with Sexy Lexie. A weird thought entered his head, Jon might call this an unacceptable risk, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s a calculated one. What he felt for Lexa was still indescribable, yet he knew he had to take the risk—there was no way he couldn’t.
