Strike Fast

by Kaylea Cross

  Interesting, that Autumn would defend him. And it sounded to Tess like she got caught in the middle a lot. “I’m sorry. That must be hard.”

  She shrugged. “I’m used to it. I just don’t like it when my mom says bad stuff about him. He loves me and he’s doing the best he can.”

  He had a sweet little protector, that was for sure. “That’s good. I know he has to be away a lot, for work.”

  Autumn nodded. “Do you go away a lot too?”

  “Yes.” The Aviation Division was based out of Fort Worth, but she moved around wherever she was needed, including overseas. And she was glad for the ever-changing scenery, because keeping busy had saved her sanity in the years since Brian died. “I go home to Nevada when I can to visit my parents and my sister and her family, but I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like.”

  Autumn gave a solemn nod. “It’s a sacrifice families like ours have to make so that the world can be a better place.”

  The little girl’s maturity was astounding, although that last bit sounded exactly like something a parent would say to their child to explain their situation. Tess didn’t quite know what to make of it. Maybe Autumn just had a crazy high IQ or something.

  “Hey, how’d you guys make out?” a familiar male voice drawled from the doorway.

  Tess looked over her shoulder just as Special Agent Prentiss entered the kitchen, a half-smile on his ruggedly handsome face. Her heart beat faster at the sight of him. He was a little over six feet, and broad through the chest and shoulders, his arms well-muscled below the short sleeves of his T-shirt. “Good. We’ve been busy making a pack of pom-pom puppies.”

  “I see that.” He went straight to Autumn, set his big hands on her little shoulders and bent to kiss the top of her head as he took in their efforts. “They’re pretty cute.”

  “Yes, and I made you this one,” she told him, picking up a floppy brown-and-black one with ears that stuck straight out of its head, a little pink felt tongue lolling out of its mouth. “It’s a German Shepherd.”

  “My favorite,” he said, cradling it in his palm.

  “I know,” Autumn said, her voice full of pride. “So are you done now?”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and the obvious warmth between the two of them made him even hotter to Tess. “All done.”

  Autumn turned to her. “We’re going to dinner and a movie now. Or maybe a movie and then dinner. You wanna come with us?”

  Taken aback by the offer, it took Tess a moment to respond. “Oh, I couldn’t—”

  “Please? You told me you like Pixar movies.”

  “And you told me it’s a special father-daughter date,” she pointed out.

  Autumn waved the protest away with one hand. “That was before.” She turned those dark blue eyes on Tess, eyes exactly like her father’s. Oh yeah, this kid knew how to work it. “Puleeeze? It’ll be so much fun.”

  Unsure what to say, Tess glanced at Prentiss for help. She expected him to maybe clear his throat awkwardly or look away, but instead he raised his eyebrows at her in question and waited.

  Wait. Did he want her to come? Or was he just being polite and hoping she’d say no? God knew she had no plans, other than a hot bath and curling up to watch a movie in her hotel room. “I…guess I could.”

  “Yay!” Now that she’d gotten the answer she wanted, Autumn hopped down from her chair and began cramming all the crafting supplies back into the box. “Dad, can you find an open box for the puppies? I don’t wanna squish them.”

  “I’ll take a look around.”

  “I’ll help,” Tess said, and jumped up to follow him across the kitchen. His scent trailed back to her, citrus and spice. Damn delicious. Autumn hadn’t mentioned a girlfriend in the picture. Was he seeing anyone? It would be weird to go to the movie with them if he was, and a guy like him wouldn’t have a shortage of women to date.

  He reached into a cupboard, found a cereal box and began tearing one side off to make a tray for the yarn puppies. He had such strong, capable hands. Hands that could render someone helpless or even kill them, but could also cradle a yarn puppy and touch his daughter with complete gentleness. He was part protector, part nurturer, and part warrior.

  Put that together with that rugged face and powerful body, and he was enough to make her ovaries explode.

  Yikes! Down, girl. You don’t even know him.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asked him quietly. “I don’t want to crash your date.” Plus we don’t even know each other. It was kind of weird to just up and go to dinner and a movie with him and Autumn. Right?

  “Nah, it’s fine. I appreciate you hanging with Autumn, and she obviously really likes you.” He paused to look at her, and her pulse increased at seeing that rugged face up close. “But don’t feel like you have to.”

  The perfect amount of dark brown stubble covered his jaw and cheeks, giving him an ultra-masculine look. His eyes were a deep, dark blue toward the outside of the iris, then changed to an almost powder blue near the pupils, and surrounded by thick, dark lashes. Gorgeous, arresting eyes she could easily fall into.

  Get hold of yourself. “Okay then,” she murmured. “I can have my ride drop me off on her way home. Where’s the theater?”

  “Just come with us. I’ll drop you back at your hotel after dinner. Sound okay?”

  Ah… “Sure.” Tiny butterfly wings began to flutter in her stomach, something she hadn’t felt in ages. It had been three years since she lost Brian, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t lonely. But she’d never reacted to a man quite this strongly before. This was visceral. Primal. She’d briefly dated a guy for a couple months up until her recent deployment to Afghanistan this past winter, but things had fizzled out pretty fast while they were apart, and within weeks of her being overseas he’d told her he wanted to start seeing someone else.

  It had hurt at the time, but it wasn’t like she’d been in love with him, so she’d let him go and focused on work. Lately, though, work, travel, and time with her family back home weren’t enough to fill the void.

  Her family worried about her being on her own all the time, so she lied to them and told them she wasn’t lonely. She wasn’t going to settle for just any man who came along just to have someone to hold her in the night. And she’d been alone long enough now that she’d gone through her grieving and was finally ready to find someone to share her life with.

  Reid handed Autumn the modified cereal box. Once the yarn menagerie was safely stored in their new home, they all walked out to the parking lot together, Tess texting her friend to say she had a ride. “How long are you in town for?” he asked Tess. He was a full head taller than her, his size and muscular build making her feel small by comparison. As well as intensely, amazingly feminine in a way she hadn’t for so damn long.

  “Just another few days, for some meetings prior to our upcoming training op.”

  At that he shot her a surprised look. “You doing Emerald Warrior with us?”

  “Yes. Well, a week of it, at least.” And she hoped that meant she would see more of him while they were down there. Based on what she’d seen so far, she’d love to get to know him better.

  “You like convertibles, Tess?” Autumn asked, holding her dad’s hand. It was adorable, seeing such a big, muscular alpha male holding that little hand.

  Tess swore her uterus cramped, but reprimanded herself. He was divorced. So clearly, he wasn’t perfect. She had to remember that and stop being so dazzled by him. “I love them.”

  “Good. Wait ‘til you see my dad’s car.”

  Tess glanced at him but he just smiled and kept walking. Then she spotted the shiny, vintage black Mustang convertible sitting next to a massive, lifted pickup, and grinned. “That yours?”

  “Yup.” The hint of a smile played around the edges of his mouth.

  The black paint gleamed under a fresh coat of wax, and because the top was down she could see it was a standard. It was clear he took good car
e of it. “Nice.” There was something so sexy about a man who could handle a stick shift.

  He raised a dark eyebrow at her in surprise. “You like cars?”

  There was that little flutter in the pit of her belly again. “I like nice cars.”

  At the grin he flashed her, any remaining awkwardness melted away, and she was glad she’d accepted the impromptu invitation to go with them. They were essentially strangers, but this was already promising to be the most enjoyable night she’d had in a long time.

  Chapter Three

  Music blared from the secluded house, so loud that the thump of the bass reverberated in Carlos’s chest and covered the thud of his cane on the concrete as he walked to the front door. The aging bungalow was set back a long way from the road. Spanish moss gleamed a pale, ghostly gray in the moonlight as it hung from the gnarled branches of the cypress trees that surrounded the property and arched over the low roofline, giving it added privacy. The location was perfect for their needs.

  Out here there were no neighbors, no passersby to nose around and spoil the fun.

  Going by the amount of noise coming from inside, his guys were having one hell of a party, and he wasn’t going to miss out on a night’s entertainment. They’d carried out his most recent orders perfectly, executing three traffickers who had tried to screw him, so he didn’t mind them letting loose for the next couple days. He felt perfectly safe here. This backwater area out in the Louisiana swamp was so isolated there was little chance anyone would find him even if they were out hunting him.

  Still, one couldn’t be too careful. His list of enemies was longer than his erect dick, and he wasn’t taking any chances. Not when he’d finally started living the kind of high-roller lifestyle that had been denied him until a few months ago.

  The smell of booze and pot hit him the moment he opened the front door, mixing with the underlying stench of B.O. and piss. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and shut the door behind him while his two bodyguards stood outside on the covered porch. He didn’t mind the boys having fun, but getting wasted to the point of no longer caring about personal hygiene was gross.

  In a room off the run-down foyer that looked like it hadn’t been touched since the early eighties, four of his enforcers were sprawled out on the peach-and-green sofas and scarred hardwood floor. Each had a naked woman on their lap, one wearing a slave collar to signify that she wasn’t there willingly. When Carlos met her frightened gaze, she cowered away from Javier and tried to cover her naked breasts as she lowered her head, shame etched into her face.

  Carlos ignored her and stood facing his men. He’d lost several of his best guys over a year ago when they’d been killed by DEA agents up in D.C. Those who remained weren’t nearly at the same level as the dead men, but they were good enough, loyal, and enjoyed what they did.

  The four of them called out to him with the joyful tones of the sloppy drunk—or the wasted high. “What are you lazy fuckers up to?” he said in Spanish over the music, unable to keep from grinning. From the looks of things, they’d been partying for quite a while already. The room was full of ashtrays overflowing with discarded weed buds, along with empty beer cans and liquor bottles.

  “Reaping the rewards of working for you, boss man,” Javier said, his gold front tooth flashing as he grinned. One arm locked around the cringing woman’s shoulders, he squeezed her naked breast and laughed when she tried to slap him away. “She’s new. You know I like ‘em feisty.”

  She was pretty enough, tits still firm, decent body. They could get a good price for her with their next shipment. Along with one very special addition.

  Carlos flapped a dismissive hand at them as he turned away, his mind on other things. “Carry on.”

  He was here to check that special addition in person. Had driven all the way here from Tallahassee just to see her.

  In the kitchen, he found his head enforcer next to the fridge, helping himself to a massive burger in one hand, and a bottle of beer in the other. Stone cold sober, as usual. It’s why Carlos had made him head enforcer. Carlos had enough to do without having to babysit his guys.

  Carlos nodded at him and shouted over the music. “Antonio. How’s it going?”

  “Good, patrón,” he answered, stuffing his mouth full.

  Carlos surveyed the rest of the open concept great room that looked as shabby as the rest of the place. Six more of his guys were in the living room and kitchen. Three of them were busy entertaining the whores they’d picked up, one was mostly out of view as he fucked a woman in the corner, and the last two were snorting coke at the kitchen table.

  He wrinkled his nose again. He enjoyed his booze, fine cigars and liked to party with the best of them, but he never touched dope. Ever. He’d seen too many stupid assholes ruin themselves by partaking of their product and getting hooked. It always ended the same way. Either in self-destruction, or a fellow enforcer sent to end them.

  The guys doing lines at the table were taking a huge risk in getting addicted on that shit, especially given how potent their labs were making the stuff, cutting it with poison like fentanyl, which could easily kill someone in small concentrations. They liked to live life on the edge, riding the razor-sharp between getting high, and turning into yet another junkie created by their product. A tightrope very few could walk without falling off.

  Not Carlos’s concern. It was Antonio’s job to monitor them. If any of their men got hooked and could no longer be trusted to carry out their duty, he alerted Carlos, and they were dealt with immediately.

  But people throughout North America were looking for a more potent high, and the old stuff wasn’t cutting it anymore. For the cartel, the trick was finding the tolerance threshold that the average human could handle. Culling the herd with overdose deaths was okay to a point, but it made no business sense whatsoever to kill off every potential customer who tried Veneno coke or heroine. Making it strong enough to hook them on the very first try, but not kill them, was the key.

  Again, not his department. His job was to expand the cartel’s territory and eliminate the competition wherever he found it. By whatever means necessary.

  As for his men…

  Carlos swept his gaze over the great room once more. The couple in the corner must be near finishing, because there was a lot of thrashing going on now. A shrill female scream pierced the racket blaring from the speakers of the ancient stereo and a lamp fell, smashing to pieces on the floor.

  He sighed inwardly, feeling like an old man in the midst of a wild frat party. Even though he was only thirty-four, he felt ancient compared to these guys, most of whom were in their early twenties. As long as they did their jobs when he gave them orders, Carlos didn’t care what they did in their spare time, or with whom. They were a means to an end, rabid dogs he’d brought to heel and kept leashed with the lure of money, product and free women.

  In exchange, when he needed something done he unleashed them, and they reverted back to their natural state. Soulless killers, every single one of them. So sadistic it made people’s blood run cold. And he was the only one who could control them. If that changed, he had them put down. Simple. Every one of them knew the rules, and the arrangement suited Carlos perfectly.

  He turned back to face Antonio, growing impatient. “Where is she?”

  Antonio shoved the last bite of burger into his mouth, chewed it fast. “Out back.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yeah. She tried to escape the other night and damn near made it, so we’ve been training her to be more obedient ever since.” He flashed a satisfied grin. “She’s a slow learner.”

  Carlos grunted, his fingers flexing around the head of his cane, that familiar, deep ache shooting through his leg. “I want to see her.” This bitch had nearly ruined him and he wanted to see her suffering. “Show me.”

  He followed Antonio through the living room, past the naked couple collapsed in a heap in the corner, and out onto the back porch. The brain-numbing noise of the music muted once the ba
ck door was shut.

  As they walked across the grass of the private backyard, Carlos glimpsed the outline of a wooden shed tucked amongst the trees near the rear fence. Even though it was eleven at night the humidity was high enough to have him sweating by the time they reached the outbuilding.

  At the base of the wooden steps, Antonio switched on a flashlight, illuminating the heavy chain and padlock on the weatherworn door. He unlocked it and shoved it open.

  The smell of hot, stale piss nearly made Carlos gag. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to cover his nose and mouth as he peered inside. His eager gaze followed the beam of light to where it revealed a naked, dark-haired woman lying on a filthy bare mattress in the middle of the floor.

  She was chained to the floorboards by a metal collar around her neck. They’d hogtied her, hands and feet bound together behind her with rope.

  Couldn’t be too unbearable, since she appeared to be asleep. Then again, they’d probably drugged her with something. “Wake her up,” he ordered, his heartbeat drumming in his ears.

  “Hey,” Antonio said gruffly, stalking over to nudge her bare leg with his boot.

  The brunette stirred and raised her head slightly. Her features were distorted from the bruising and swelling, but it was definitely her.

  Victoria Gomez, the Mexican-born reporter from Houston who had not only exposed him, but almost cost him his life when a rival cartel had targeted him because of a story she’d broadcast. Three of Carlos’s best men had died in the shootout trying to protect him, and every day the pain of the healed bullet wounds in his right leg reminded him of the suffering she’d caused him.

  “Wake up, bitch,” Antonio snapped in Spanish.

  The woman cracked one dark eye open, the other swollen shut. It took a moment for her bleary gaze to focus on them, but when she did she glared up at them with such hatred and malevolence it sent an involuntary shiver up Carlos’s spine. Excitement blended with the buzz of warning at the back of his head.

  Seeing her bound, naked and helpless sent a rush of power through him. She was the victim now, and deserved everything they did to her.