TRIGGERED: A Romantic Suspense Bundle (5 Books)

by Evie Nichole

  “I—it’s—oh!” She feigned a loss of words, drying to build up her emotion enough to keep it rolling. She turned around, burying her head in his chest.

  “Hey, hey, hey, now. It’s okay, it’s okay.” He sort of patted her clunkily on the back, letting his other hand slide almost imperceptibly down toward her ass.

  She pulled away, face covered in tears; her eyes were burning, which told her that the non-waterproof mascara she’d chosen was doing it’s job just as well.

  “What’s going on Alan? You have to tell me what’s going on!”

  He looked dumbfounded. She realized he must have been thinking her display was about wanting to get back together with him.

  “Two men…with guns…came…” she took a deep breath, “to my apartment last night. They asked me all these questions about you and your work. They kept asking me where you lived and when was the last time I had heard from you. I was so scared, Alan!”

  He rushed to her, taking her by the shoulders and bellowing “WHAT DID YOU TELL THEM?” as he shook her violently. She wrenched away, backing against the wall, looking as terrified as she felt.

  In her ear, she heard Jason’s voice, “Are you okay, Monica? If you’re okay, say ‘Fuck you, Alan.’”

  “Fuck you, Alan!” she screamed at him. He held his hands up in surrender as she continued to yell. “I didn’t tell them anything. Okay. I even fucking lied for you, okay! I told them I had never been to your apartment. I told them you dumped me out of nowhere and changed your number. And then I told them to get the hell out of my apartment before I called the cops.”

  Alan’s face relaxed, and he broke into a grin. “Damn honey, you did all that? Aren’t you the feisty one?”

  She shot daggers at him through her eyes. “Now I want you to tell me what the hell is going on. I lied for you, to God knows who. Were they cops? Were they some kind of gangsters? Who were they? I lied to two men with guns, and now I can’t go home because I don’t know if they’ll show up again. AND,” she yelled again before he could get a word in, “I lied for you after you did dump me out of nowhere. I didn’t owe you that. I should’ve just thrown you to those fucking wolves.” She turned away from him, renewing her sobbing sounds.

  Jason’s voice piped in again. “You’re doing great.”

  “Aw, baby, I’m sorry I got upset like that. I panicked is all.” She felt his hand on her shoulder and shook it off.

  “Come on, don’t be that way.”

  She turned on him, real anger bursting out of her.

  “You put me in danger, Alan. I don’t know what’s going on or who they were or what you’ve done, but you’re involved in dangerous shit and you got me mixed up in it. They knew who I was, Alan. They knew where I lived. I could have been killed. But of course, you don’t give a shit about that, or you would have clued me in when we started dating. If you cared about me, you would’ve been like, ‘Hey, so, this might freak you out but I’m involved in some stuff that could put you in danger.’ If you cared about me, Alan, you would have wanted to keep me safe by at least telling me you were involved in whatever the hell this is.

  “So, now, I’m involved. Know why? Because I know there’s something going on. I can go to the police or, I don’t know, I’m sure those two gunslinger friends of yours are still hanging around somewhere near my place and it wouldn’t be that difficult for me to get their attention.” She took a deep breath. He was standing in the middle of the floor, mouth hanging open dumbly, having never seen her like this. She was pacing, wringing her hands and twisting them together as her body tried to accommodate this explosion of energy. A wisp of hair fell down into her eyes, and she forced it back into place aggressively, resuming her pacing and another burst of anger.

  “But I’m not going to do those things, Alan, because I care about you for some God forsaken reason. I care about you even though you don’t care about me.” She was really impressing herself, now, being able to keep such a straight face through all of this. “So I’m not going to do that, but don’t think I won’t hesitate to if you don’t tell me every last detail of what’s going on. I’m involved, and I want to know what I’m involved in. The price of my silence is information.”

  She stopped pacing, facing him straight on. He continued to stare at her.

  Then, suddenly, his eyes grew wide, wild. He started shaking his head, his face was deep red, and he lifted his finger pointing at her. She started to back away; she didn’t know why, she just backed away. She was, at once, evaluating where he was and what he was doing and where the elevator doors were and how long it would take her to get to them.

  “No!” he yelled, hoarsely, pointing at her still. She had no idea what was going on. This was not what she had expected at all.

  Then he seemed to find his voice. “WHAT IS THAT? WHAT IS THAT? YOU’RE WIRED, AREN’T YOU? YOU’RE FUCKING WIRED!”

  She realized then that he was pointing at the top of her head. She reached up and felt it, the microphone had slipped out of place. The moment flashed through her mind, putting a stray hair back into place into anger.

  “Shit,” she said almost to herself and she heard Jason’s voice respond “What happened?”

  Alan turned and thundered into his bedroom and she turned, not to the elevator doors, but to the door in the corner leading to the stairwell.

  “Microphone. He saw it. Stairs.” It was all she could get out, as she sprinted to the door, wrenched it open, and started flying down twenty flights. She had to slow her pace after two because she almost lost her footing; she pictured herself flying forward, crashing into a wall or tumbling down flight after flight. Jason was in her ear, but she could barely make out what he was saying. Her lungs started to resist, not taking in quite enough air, and her legs started to burn. She couldn’t stop, she knew she was close. Floor eleven.

  Her mind raced ahead, trying to remember where the stairwell came out; her mind raced backwards, trying to figure out if he would take the elevator or the stairs. She had a feeling he would take the elevator; technically, it was faster because it was a private express elevator just for his apartment. Floor eight.

  She focused on Jason’s voice. “I’m coming, Monica, I’m coming in.” She didn’t know how he would get into the front door, but he would be close when she got to the lobby. Then she remembered the doorman. “Jason. Doorman. Ricky. Tell him. Monica. He’ll…let you in.” She couldn’t stop running; she was sure Alan was already in the lobby, or close, if he had taken the elevator. She was pretty sure the stairwell came out right beside the doorman’s desk, that would be good, she thought. Floor three.

  “I’m coming in, Monica!” Jason was yelling; he stayed on the line this time so she could hear the sound of the buzzer, his panting, then, “Ricky. Jason Crenshaw. International Drug Bureau. Alan Porter, Penthouse. Monica just went up. She’s in danger. Where are the stairs?”

  “Over there.” She heard Ricky’s voice. Floor one.

  Lobby.

  She burst through the door. To her left, she saw Jason and Ricky across the lobby, and to her right the elevator doors slid open and she saw Alan, red-faced. He was raising his hand toward her, and she thought he was pointing again, and then she saw something glinting in his hand. She saw a flash and heard a bang, and just as she had decided to dive to her right, she was knocked bodily over.

  She crashed onto the floor and everything went black.

  Chapter 17

  “I’m her best friend. I’m the only family she has in a three state radius. LET. ME. IN.”

  Monica knew the voice but couldn’t find the name; everything was black and her head was pounding painfully. Then it stopped, and the world went away again.

  “No, she’s not awake. Even if she was she’s not going to talk to you until she’s good and ready. No. You can go the Hell back to whatever agency you came from and tell them to shove it. You can tell them that they better have a good explanation for not putting her in a bulletproof vest before sending her in to ta
lk to some drug overlord with a gun and nothing to lose. You guys better get working on that one, because if it wasn’t for your buddy, that bullet would have gone through her completely unprotected chest and we’d be pressing every charge we could and suing you for everything. EVERYTHING. And don’t think we’re not going to sue and press charges and print your names everywhere if we have to. You almost got her killed!”

  She felt like smiling, but her head seemed to be nothing but pain. She still couldn’t see anything. She tried to say something, and the words just sort of gurgled in her throat.

  “Monica? Monica?”

  The world went away again.

  “Monica, honey, it’s mommy. I’m here Mon, I’m here.”

  She thought she felt something on her hand, but she wasn’t sure she even had a hand. Her head still hurt, but it seemed to be less. She tried to move the hand she thought she’d felt something on.

  “I think she just tried to squeeze my hand!”

  She felt it again; the world seemed to be growing lighter. She moved her hand again and felt her fingertips touch flesh that wasn’t her own, a small, cold hand.

  Her eyes fluttered open.

  “Mom?”

  Her mom’s face swam into view. She felt herself smile and pain shot through her head.

  “Monica! Yes, it’s me! Oh, thank God.”

  “She’s awake?!

  “Zo.” Her throat felt like sandpaper.

  Zoe’s face appeared next to her mother’s. She looked tired, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. She looked like she’d been crying, but she smiled down at Monica like she’d never been so happy to see her.

  “Hey, Mo. It’s about time, babe. You were about to turn me into a smoker again.”

  Monica watched her mom give Zoe a disapproving look. She tried to laugh and it came out like a rasping cough.

  “Water.”

  Soon she was being visited by a parade of people, a nurse, an aid, a doctor, her brother, her dad, Mr. Johnson. Mr. Johnson hugged her, joking, “I’m starting to think you’re trying to get other people to do this project so you can take credit for it.” She smiled sleepily. “Take your time getting ready. I’m sending all emails and meeting notes to you so you can catch up when you’re ready. We’re not going ahead without your say-so.”

  She was sucking on ice chips, her throat slowly starting to feel like it would support her voice once more. She was trying to piece together what had happened from what she remembered and what she was hearing in snatches of conversation. She remembered reaching the bottom of the stairs, running through the door, seeing Alan, hearing Jason’s voice, getting knocked over.

  Jason.

  She looked around wildly, ignoring the wave of pain. “Zoe,” she said, her voice starting to sound like itself again. Her mother was talking to the doctor with her brother and father. Zoe had been standing in the corner with her arms crossed in front of her chest, watching Monica. She crossed the room to Monica’s bed as soon as she heard her name.

  “What’s up, babe?” She knelt by her; Monica couldn’t remember her ever looking so serious.

  “Jason.”

  Zoe nodded, smiling sadly. “He’s okay.”

  She cleared her throat, trying to sit up. “I want to see him.”

  Zoe nodded again. “Okay, I’ll ask. He saved your life.”

  Monica closed her eyes, feeling shame descend fully onto her.

  “Hey,” Zoe said, and Monica opened her eyes again. “Don’t beat yourself up. He saved your life, okay. He jumped in front of a bullet for you. That’s the only reason I’m not mad at him for letting you get into that situation in the first place.” Monica looked away, flashes of the lobby and sounds and pain ran through her mind; the heavy thing that had hit her had been him.

  “All you better say to him is thank you and I love you or something.” She paused, taking in Monica’s look of shock. “You know, when you’re ready or whatever,” she said, winking. She stood up and walked boldly to the doctor, interrupting him mid-sentence.

  “She wants to see Jason.”

  ***

  Jason wasn’t allowed to be moved, so they wheeled her, hospital bed and all, into his room. They’d been against it at first, but Zoe had started yelling again, about how he’d jumped in front of a bullet for her and the least they could do was let them fucking see each other. Then her mom had chimed about how that was her little girl in there who wouldn’t be alive without this man and that not letting them see each other was a heinous sin.

  She really was quite lucky.

  She was shocked when she saw him. He was so pale that she was sure for a moment that he was dead. The monitor beside him told a different story. She asked the nurse to sit her up.

  “Is he awake? Has he been awake?”

  “Off and on,” the nurse said, walking over to check the dozens of beeping machines surrounding him. “He lost a lot of blood and had a couple surgeries. He’s on a lot of medication.”

  Zoe was standing on her right, and her mom was on her left. Her dad and brother were somewhere behind them.

  “Will he be…?”

  “He’s going to be fine. Maybe even great. He’s strong. The bullet missed the organs. It grazed an artery, that’s why he lost so much blood. But we got to him in time, love, and as long as he doesn’t push himself too much, he’s going to be just fine.”

  She crossed back to Monica and patted her hand reassuringly. Then she stepped behind Monica’s bed, giving them the room.

  “Zo?” Monica couldn’t take her eyes off Jason. She was imagining what he must have looked like jumping at her, shoving her out of the way, a heroic dive that was much more graceful and majestic in her mind than it probably had been in real life.

  Zoe nodded. “Bev, will you help me move the bed?” And even though her mom hated when Zoe called her by her first name, she started pushing while Zoe pulled, maneuvering as close to Jason’s bed as they could her.

  She reached her hand over the railings on both of their beds and laid it on his. She saw his chest rising and falling, remembering him in her bed, asleep and peaceful. He looked like that now, but it didn’t put her at ease like it had the first time.

  “Hey Jason,” she said softly. He just went on sleeping and breathing. “I’m glad you’re a spy, or whatever, after all. I don’t know if a regular guy could have done what you did.”

  Zoe snorted, and Monica looked over at her, unable to whip her head around in anger. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Monica glared at her until she answered her truthfully. “Just, if he’d been a regular guy, you wouldn’t have been confronting some drug boss and have a gun pointed at you in the first place.”

  “I think that’s beside the point, Zoe,” her mother said from the other side of the room. Monica looked back at Jason, knowing Zoe was right.

  “I’m still grateful,” she said to the entire room, wondering if Jason could hear this snatch of conversation like she’d been able to hear Zoe yelling at anyone and everyone who got in her way.

  ***

  Back in her room, Zoe filled her in on everything she’d found out. Her family had gone to the cafeteria for dinner.

  “So Alan shot at you, obviously, and Jason threw you out of the way and the bullet hit him instead. You slid into a wall and conked out. Some other secret agent dudes came in right behind Jason. One of them shot at Alan and missed somehow, but Alan tried to duck and run and they tackled him. The chubby white one said they’re holding him for attempted murder and assault with a deadly weapon for now. He made it sound like there would be more in the future. Which, duh.”

  “I didn’t get the name of his boss. They might not be able to pin the drug thing on him. Or maybe they can, but they won’t be able to take the whole thing out like they wanted, take out the big boss or whatever.”

  Zoe snapped in front of Monica’s downcast eyes. “Hey. You were really brave going in there and doing that. Stupid, but brave. It was totally badass and those guys, the ot
her agents, were talking about how you showed really good instincts and stuff. So, like, you impressed the secret spy guys. That’s badass.”

  Monica smiled. “Thanks, Zoe. I just wish I could have done more.”

  “It wasn’t your job. You were volunteering, going above and beyond. You did a ton by just showing up.”

  “She’s right,” the husky voice in the doorway made them both jump. Monica’s head throbbed momentarily from the quick movement. She looked over and Chris was standing in the doorway.

  “Look, I’m not going to have some big sentimental moment with you. I was suspicious about you because it’s my job to be suspicious. You’d been dating our prime target, so, in my mind, it was highly likely that you were involved somehow. But you were impressive out there. You thought on your feet; you stayed in communication and gave us information that on the fly that saved your life and let us nab that fucker.”

  Zoe smirked, impressed.

  “And Jason said you were suspicious of him from the get-go. We all get sloppy sometimes, but he’s a good agent, and you were almost blind drunk when he talked to you that first time, but you still saw through him. Amazing instincts. I was wrong about you. I’m sorry. And thank you.”

  Monica didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded.

  “Well…” He turned to go.

  “Wait. What’s happening with Alan and the drug ring?”

  Chris hissed, looking around at the open door. He crossed to close it, eyeing Zoe with irritation; Monica assumed he was one of the ones Zoe had yelled at while she was comatose, otherwise she was certain he would have kicked her out.

  “He shot a federal officer and threatened a civilian with a lethal weapon. The first charge alone is enough to get him a lot of time in jail. We have a lot of information we can press him with about the drug chain.”

  “Are you going to give him some kind of deal for his boss’s name and everything?”

  “That’s plan B. Plan A involves the fact that we now have a warrant to his entire apartment, the jewelry storefront, all the cars he owns, and any other properties we may discover he owns. The international drug suspicion and shooting a federal agent was more than enough to give us full access to basically everything. If we don’t find exactly what we need, we’ll definitely find really solid leads, and he’s definitely going away for a good while no matter what.”