Strike Force

by Beth Rhodes

  “You’re Bert’s young niece.”

  Marie walked with the lady. “Yes.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Pearl. My George is down the hall. George and Bert hit it off a few months ago when they happened to be in at the same time. They exchanged numbers. Oh,” Pearl said, stopping at Bert’s doorway. “Here you go. If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”

  “Uh, thank you,” Marie said. Bert had had so few friends over the years, and it was only the two of them for so long. It hadn’t been until she left that he’d started meeting with the guys from the old country.

  Pearl kept going, and Marie went into Uncle Bert’s room.

  The steady beep reassured her, and her arms fell to her sides as she crossed to the bed and sat on the edge. She straightened a pillow and pulled up the blanket covering his legs.

  The nurse followed her in and picked up his chart.

  “What’s going on? How is he? Is it the bullet wound?” Marie asked, whispering as she brushed a lock of hair from his brow. His eyelids fluttered. “Did the infection spread like the doctor thought it would?”

  “To the shock of the doctor, no. The wound has stayed clean and not been any trouble.”

  Uncle Bert’s hand came up and wrapped around her forearm. Any time she was around and close enough, he would touch her and the armband, resting his hand there against her arm and the gold. As the week had passed, he’d been more adamant she not take it off, and it seemed like he was checking up on her.

  The connection between her uncle and the armband confused her.

  Her mother had worn it the same way, always, as had all the ancestors before her.

  In a way, it freaked her out, but it also grounded her. Since getting it back and wearing it, she couldn’t explain… It connected her to everyone before her. All her life, she’d avoided the armband and spent energy on stealing stupid little things, as if they would help her not lose the good.

  Marie leaned forward and kissed her uncle’s cheek.

  “He’s gone into kidney failure, Marie.”

  Her heart beat hard, even though the doctor told her this would happen. His organs would give up. “Is he in pain?” she asked, blinking back the tears that threatened to soak her world.

  “No.”

  “Will he be able to talk to me before he—” She couldn’t say the word.

  Malcolm’s broad shoulders filled the doorway.

  “Malcolm,” Uncle Bert said, answering her question.

  Marie reached behind her, urging Malcolm in, and he came over and leaned into her uncle’s line of sight. “Hey, old man.” His voice was tight with emotion. Malcolm put his hand on her neck and squeezed for comfort.

  “Your head’s out of your ass now,” Uncle Bert said.

  His voice was so raspy and weak, she almost couldn’t make out what he said.

  Malcolm laughed.

  With a labored breath, Uncle Bert gripped her arm even harder and continued, “Take care of my Marie.”

  Malcolm swallowed, nodded, and cleared his throat. “I will.”

  “Good.” Uncle Bert struggled.

  Her tears didn’t stop now, as Uncle Bert relaxed and then lifted his arms and waved her into them. Like when she’d been a child, she curled up against his chest and listened to his heart beating against her ear.

  He brushed her hair—once, twice…

  Then he took a deep breath and said, “Te iubesc, copilul meu.”

  And the beating stopped.

  Marie squeezed her eyes closed. He’d been there for her all her life. Now, it was her turn to take care of him. She let the tears dry, kissed him one last time, and got up.

  Malcolm turned to her. “I’m so sorry, Marie.”

  “I wish I’d introduced you sooner.” She imagined there would be lots of regrets. “I regret being away so much this past year.” She bit at her lip. “I could have come home so many times. But there was Hawk and Dimitru. And there was you. And I—”

  “You grew up and left home and started a life,” Malcolm finished for her. “Exactly what Bert wanted for you. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to stand over him before he died and promise him you are mine, and I will take care of you for the rest of my days.” He took her hand. “Don’t think he didn’t know.”

  Her heart thudded solidly. “I’ve been afraid of losing my whole life. I hold too tightly to things. I might drive you crazy, Malcolm. But I’m done with those ways.”

  “You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly.

  “Still going with the immortality myth?” A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth as he blushed. He was so damn sure of himself.

  “Maybe.”

  She laughed. He wanted to keep things lighthearted?

  “Yeah, well, I’m done with off-script stealing, and I’m willingly remanding myself to your custody, buddy, so you better keep a close, very close, eye on me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  It had taken two weeks to get permission, but she’d finally laid her uncle to rest out on the cliffs behind her house. A stone table marked the burial place, and on the day of his funeral, she and his friends had covered it with a feast for the celebration, as he would have wanted it.

  Malcolm had been by her side the entire time. He was always doing things behind the scenes, like making a meal when she forgot to eat. He’d been out front, cutting the bushes that needed tending, and out back, he’d cleared the trail to the cliffs.

  At night—at night, he’d talk to her body without words, marking her his own, over and over.

  But she was still scared.

  Burying her uncle here meant one thing, and one thing only.

  She couldn’t leave this place, her home.

  But she didn’t want to stop this thing between her and Malcolm. He was right. They were meant to be together. Thank God. Thank…Uncle Bert. Thank her parents, for loving her and showing her what it meant to stick by each other. Thank Malcolm, for seeing more than the thief.

  “Hawk’s here.”

  Marie looked up from her seat on the floor in the attic, where she was going through old photo albums. The afternoon sun cut through the dust and hit Malcolm’s feet at the top of the steps. He had his serious face on, and as much as she loved his serious face, she missed seeing his rare smiles.

  “I’ll be right down.”

  He looked around, probably saw the chaos that was her life right now, and took a step toward her. “Wanna make out instead?”

  And there it was…his grin.

  She waggled her brows. “Yeah, baby,” she answered, putting the books down and getting up to meet him halfway. She jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. She felt the slow ache of arousal, and it brought a smile to her face as she put her lips to his. “God, Malcolm,” she whispered.

  His hands crossed behind her back, holding her tightly against him. He buried his nose into her neck and breathed deeply. She let her head fall back, and he left enticing, warm kisses up to her ear, where he bit lightly on her lobe. He moaned, sending a tremor through her body, before he smacked her rear.

  “Hawk’s waiting.”

  She pouted. “Fine. But it was your idea.”

  “I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Ha!”

  He led the way back down the stairs and turned into the dining room.

  They were all there. Hawk and Stacy. John and Emily. Bobby. Craig. Jamie. Even Tancredo had flown out.

  Hawk stood and came toward her, using his hand as a guide on the back of the chairs.

  “You’re all here,” she said, as nerves raced through her. Was this it? Last call for Marie Feur? Well, she didn’t have to take it sitting down. “I’m glad you’re all here, actually. Because I have something to say.”

  Malcolm lifted a brow her way, but she ignored it and cleared her throat.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” she said to Malcolm. “Look. I’m staying here.” Her lip trembled. “I can’t—”

>   “Before you continue,” Hawk interrupted her.

  She turned to him and saw a smile on Stacy’s face.

  “Okay, what’s going on here?” Marie asked.

  “We’re opening a West Coast office of Hawk Elite,” Hawk answered. “It’s been in the works for about six months. Dimitru was to have been our first client. He fell through—”

  “Thank fuck,” Malcolm said.

  Hawk whacked him on the back of the head. “Portland will the base of operations. Any volunteers willing to stay here and get the wheels turning?”

  “Yes, sir,” Malcolm answered before Marie could even blink.

  “I’ll second that,” Craig answered.

  Marie stared at Malcolm, her brain grinding to a halt, every fear she’d had in the past two weeks sitting at the edge of oblivion. “Are you serious?”

  “It’s what I came to tell you. But, your uncle died. You’ve been busy with funeral arrangements and working through your own things.” Malcolm rubbed a hand over his mouth and then scratched at the hair on his jaw. “You still want to quit? Fine. But see, here’s the deal. I’m not leaving you here. I made a promise to Uncle Bert. And I intend to keep it.”

  She dropped to the nearest chair. She didn’t have to quit. She didn’t have to watch Malcolm walk away for Raleigh. Not permanently, anyway.

  She had a chance to be a better person. “I’m staying with Hawk Elite.”

  “Hooah.” Jamie’s deep voice sounded off.

  Marie had eyes only for Malcolm, who was grinning.

  Her lip trembled. “Fuck,” she whispered, her insides shaking from the will to not cry. A tear slipped out anyway.

  “S’okay, folks. She’s just happy,” Malcolm said as he walked over and placed a hand at the nape of her neck. He crouched next to her and pulled her into his arms.

  She started laughing. “I thought I was going to have to kidnap you to stay with me.”

  “Even after you promised no more stealing?”

  “Totally different,” she said. “Kidnapping is federal. Lots more jail time. I promised no more off-script stealing.”

  Malcolm looked around at the others, who were all anxiously holding their breaths, then he looked into her eyes. “You won’t have to kidnap me…or steal anything.

  “I’m all yours.”

  The Fucking End

  …or is it?

  Though I don’t have the next book planned, you can count on another book or two from this series. After the new year, after some brain rest, I’ll wake up in the cold of January, ready to get back to work!!

  If you want to hear about what’s coming next and when, sign up for my newsletter. Not only will you get a free, full length novel to tide you over, you’ll be first in line to hear about who is up next for a story in the Hawk Elite Security novels.

  Will it be Craig?

  Or Bobby?

  Perhaps my second ‘older’ favorite, Jamie.

  So many directions to take…

  Stay tuned!

  About the Author

  When Beth Rhodes isn’t writing, she enjoys life as the mother of six and wife to her US Army husband. She finds inspiration all around her, seeing happily-ever-afters in every conflict. Coffee, along with a dose of prayer, gets her through most days. Find more about her and her books on her webpage!

  Webpage * Facebook * Twitter * Pinterest * Newsletter

  Other books by Beth Rhodes

  Love Beyond Reason Series

  Letters From Home

  Outside the Lines

  Hawk Elite Security Series

  Strike Back

  Strike Fear

  Strike Zone

  Strike Force

  Vows Series

  Unwanted Vows: Free to newsletter Subscribers

  Unnecessary Vows

  Unrelenting Vows

  Novellas

  For Love or Duty

  The Perfect Confidence

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to acknowledge my former publishing company, Boroughs Publishing Group, who helped inspire the passion behind this book. My own bad choices were, not only a lesson for me, but were the driving force to create a book filled with all my pent-up frustrations and passions, a result of spending three years not writing a single new word in order to get out of a contract, string free. They inspired the F-word, each one used with pointed appreciation for love and hate, and the gorgeous realm in which they co-exist.

  Jessa Slade. For your conversation [in comments]. Your strive to be a better writer and editor and to understand how the industry works. To humbly admit you don’t know everything and to be honest and forward and realistic about how my story can be better. Thank you.

  My Passionate Critters. You ladies have been with me through this series, helping me polish and promote. Even when I disappear for weeks at a time, you are there for me when I poke my head out of the cave. Thank you all!! Especially Lori Sizemore, Landra Graf, and Pamela Devereux for taking the time to read an early copy and give me feedback after all was said and done.

  Elaina Lee, this is my favorite cover—so far. Thank you!

  My family has had a rough year, moving twice, settling again, and working on tolerating each other. Trying to move forward is painful. My family deserves all the credit for allowing me this passion, humoring my odd sense of humor, and forgiving my negligence.

  I love all of you.