“Please don’t do this,” she pleaded, trying a different tack with Sean. “It’s not worth it!”
He grunted a laugh. “You got that right, you frigid little bitch! We dated for months, and you didn’t give it up even once! You’re sure as hell not worthy to suck my cock, but once you get a taste of this”—he ground his bulging erection against her ass—“you’ll know what you’ve been missing.”
“Let her go.”
Sadie nearly melted with relief. Yep. A big puddle of goo right there on the hallway carpet. The tears she’d been holding back scalded a path down her cheeks as she gasped on a sob, “Joe.”
But Joe didn’t even spare her a glance. His deadly glare was fixed on Sean, his gun trained on the man holding her captive. Or, hell, she hoped it was. Because right now the coward was using her as a human shield, and there was precisely zero margin for error.
Sean pressed his gun harder into her chin and cackled, his voice taking on a hysterical edge that scared the shit out of her. She suppressed a revolted shiver, afraid that even the slightest movement might result in him pulling the trigger…
“Sadie,” Joe said, keeping his gaze trained on Sean as he spoke. “You okay, baby?”
“I think so,” she said, her voice thin, strained, and thick with tears.
“She’s mine, you fucking prick!” Sean Jackson roared. “I’m the one who tosses my whores to the curb when I’m tired of them. Bitches don’t break up with me. And she never would’ve broken things off if you hadn’t come back. You should’ve just died back in Afghanistan and saved the taxpayers a few bucks!”
“Well, why don’t you rectify that, pretty boy,” Joe replied, his tone even, deadly calm. “Take your best shot.”
Oh God, oh God, oh God…
“Joe, what the hell are you doing?” Sadie beseeched, her pounding heart making her already throbbing head ache so badly her stomach rolled with nausea.
“Go ahead, sweet cheeks,” Joe taunted, ignoring her. “Bring it on. Show Sadie what a total badass you are. Just let her go first. Don’t want her interfering with your shot, right?”
In the distance, Sadie heard sirens. A lot of them. Joe had called for backup, thank God! And if there was one thing she knew after growing up next door to the Dawsons, they took care of their own.
Now they just had to live long enough for the cavalry to arrive…
• • •
Joe could barely hear over the blood pounding in his ears, but he wasn’t about to let on to Jackson that he was nervous at all. This whole plan depended on him persuading the asshole to let Sadie go, defuse the situation like he’d been trained. But his instincts told him there was no use asking Jackson for demands or trying to reason with him, tell him it’d be easier for him if he gave himself up. That train had left the station, and it was pretty damned clear it was on a one-way trip to Crazy Town. Right now his biggest concern was getting that gun out from under Sadie’s chin. And as soon as he accomplished that, all bets were off.
“Look,” Joe said, raising his hands and letting his gun hang from his finger. “You want to have a go at me, fine. But Sadie can’t see what a big tough guy you are if she’s wounded—or dead. So let her go, or you’ll have an audience of one. And where’s the fun in that? Who’s going to tell everyone what a badass you are if no one’s here to see it?”
He could see Jackson mulling it over. Then the guy suddenly shoved Sadie away from him, sending her stumbling down the hallway toward Joe.
Joe grabbed Sadie’s forearm as soon as she was within reach and flung her behind him, using his body to shield her from harm even though he desperately longed to kiss her hard and deep, lose himself in her arms, assure himself that she was safe. But she wasn’t. Not yet.
“Go, baby!” he ordered, bringing his gun back up and training it on Jackson’s chest as he spoke. “Get out of here!”
He half expected her to protest. But she didn’t. Not his brave, beautiful Sadie. She raced down the stairs, allowing him to keep his focus on Jackson. God, he loved her! And he was going to tell her so every single day for the rest of his life…
• • •
Sadie stumbled down the stairs at what felt like slow motion, gripping the railing to keep from pitching forward and taking a header. To her surprise, her dog was right at her heels, limping from the blows he’d taken and the wound he’d sustained trying to protect her. Poor Jasper. Add his injuries to the list of reasons to despise that worthless son of a bitch upstairs.
She hated to leave Joe up there alone, but she knew if she’d stayed she would’ve just been a distraction. So she’d taken off as fast as her feet and her spinning head could manage. She just had to get to the front door, let the arriving officers know what was going on, what Joe was up against. But the distance between her and the front door seemed to stretch out, lengthening and getting farther away with each step toward it. And somewhere there was a rhythmic pounding that seemed to emanate from within and without her head at the same time.
What the hell?
It took her a moment to realize it was someone banging on the front door. “Sheriff’s Department! Open up!”
Before she could respond, the door burst inward, and she was falling forward into the arms of Joe’s brother Tom as he rushed to her. His brother Gabe was right behind him. And—good God—was that Mac Dawson? Joe’s father, in all his impassive ferocity, strode in, gun drawn, his heavy brows furrowed. And there were about half a dozen other deputies behind him.
Mac pegged Sadie with a look that had been known to make even the most hardened criminals wither and demanded, “Where’s my boy?”
• • •
“There are only two ways this can end,” Joe said, keeping an eye on the gun hanging down at Jackson’s side and working to keep the rage out of his voice. There was really only one way he wanted to end this and that involved him tearing the bastard apart with his bare hands for terrorizing Sadie. But his honor prevented him from doing anything he’d regret. So, instead, he offered a choice. “You give me the gun and walk out of here in handcuffs, or I drop you. You pick.”
Jackson puffed out his chest and for a split second looked like he might actually come at Joe, but a cacophony of voices and thundering footfalls downstairs brought him up short.
“Hear that?” Joe asked, his focus laser sharp. “That’s probably half the Fairfield County Sheriff’s Department. Now, drop the gun, and let’s end this.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jackson sneered. “Make it look like you’re some kind of hero?”
“It’s over, Jackson,” Joe informed him. “Don’t be an idiot.”
That’s when Joe heard the footstep behind him, noticed the enraged expression on Jackson’s face, saw the bastard’s arm come up to take aim.
Joe didn’t hesitate.
• • •
The report of the gunshot echoed through Sadie’s house, startling her heart into her throat. “Joe!”
She wriggled with what strength she had, trying to get free of Tom’s hold, but he refused to release her, no matter how many times she pounded at him with her fist and kicked, landing several blows that made him grunt as he carried her outside to the waiting ambulance.
“Goddammit, Tom!” she screamed. “Let me go!”
But he just calmly set her down on the edge of the ambulance’s open bay, keeping a firm hand on her shoulder as the paramedics rushed to check her out. Sadie blinked and batted away the penlight they shoved into her face, leaning out around them to watch the front door of her house, praying fervently that the man she loved would come walking out at any minute.
Several agonizing moments passed. Tom’s hand reflexively squeezed her shoulder, and she turned her eyes up to him, the stress and concern in his face a reflection of her own.
“Tom?” she choked through barely suppressed tears. But then his
expression suddenly relaxed, his entire body sagging with relief. Her head whipped back to the door so fast, the world swam before her eyes, the exiting deputies a blur of faces.
But there was one face that was perfectly clear. The only one she needed to see.
The paramedics who’d been tending to her jogged toward the house at Mac Dawson’s beckoning, and she felt Tom leaving her side as his brother approached.
Joe strode toward her, limping a little but otherwise unharmed, a few of the other deputies clapping him on the back or nodding toward him as he passed. And even as an outsider, Sadie could see that these were gestures of acknowledgment, of acceptance of Joe as their equal. In their eyes, he had proven himself worthy to be among them.
And that’s when the dam broke. The tears she’d been fighting burst forth in strangled sobs as Joe’s arms came around her, grasping her so tightly she could hardly breathe. “I love you,” he whispered, pulling back enough that he could take her face in his hands. And then his lips captured hers in a hard, deep kiss that left her breathless.
• • •
Joe kissed Sadie long and hard, not giving a damn if the whole frigging department got a good look at them. All that mattered was that she was alive. And safe.
Finally, the rattle of the gurney brought his head up, and he and Sadie shuffled out of the way so that the paramedics could load Jackson into the ambulance. Odds were good he’d survive the gunshot wound to his shoulder that had taken him down and probably saved the life of Joe’s brother Gabe who’d just entered the hallway to back him up.
Joe’s arm tightened around Sadie when she buried her face into his chest to avoid having to look at Jackson, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her hair, knowing that the nightmares she’d probably have from the experience were going to be rough. But he’d get her through it—just as she’d helped him through his.
“You all right, sweetheart?”
Joe and Sadie both glanced up, surprised to see Joe’s father standing there, his normally hard expression curiously tender as he gazed on them. Joe felt Sadie’s slight nod but said, “I’m taking her to the hospital to have her checked out, just to make sure.”
“No!” Sadie protested. “I can’t go to the hospital. I need to get Jasper to the vet, and—”
Mac jerked his chin toward Joe’s car. “You go on with Joe,” he interrupted. “I’ve got this under control.” Joe gave his father a nod of gratitude, then started to lead Sadie away but stopped short when Mac called, “Joseph?”
Joe turned to him, brows raised, knowing his father wasn’t exactly one for conversation—especially at a crime scene. “Yes, sir?”
The sheriff dipped his head ever so slightly in a terse nod, then headed back to the house.
“What was that all about?” Sadie asked.
Joe hugged her closer, his throat growing tight. He knew exactly what that nod meant. He also knew it wasn’t something any of Mac Dawson’s sons had received often in their lives. He had to swallow past his emotions before he said, “I’m pretty sure it meant he’s proud of me.”
EPILOGUE
Joe adjusted the blinds in his bedroom, blocking out as much of the early afternoon sunlight as possible, then stripped out of his clothes and climbed into his bed beside Sadie, pulling her into the curve of his body. After leaving the hospital and making a quick visit to Jasper at the vet’s office where he was expected to fully recover, Joe had brought Sadie back to his house, not wanting her to have to deal with going back to her own just yet. She’d go back when she was ready to face what had happened. And knowing his brave Sadie, it wouldn’t take her long.
She murmured something incoherent in her sleep as she nuzzled close, seeking his warmth. He smoothed her hair, careful not to disturb the knot on her head where she’d struck the bathtub. The hospital had confirmed that she had a mild concussion but would be fine. But when he thought about how much worse things might have gone, how close he’d come to losing her…
He tried to suppress the shudder that rippled through him, but it was enough that Sadie’s eyes fluttered open.
“Hey, you,” she muttered, turning in his arms so that she was facing him. “I was worried you’d be gone when I woke up.”
He shook his head. “I took the day off. Turns out I have an ‘in’ with my boss.”
She chuckled, then winced, her hand going reflexively to her head. “Damn, this hurts.”
Joe pressed a tender kiss to her hair. “Better?”
She shook her head, grinning. “Maybe it was the wrong spot.”
He rolled her onto her back, then his mouth found hers in a slow, lingering kiss. “How about that?” he murmured against her lips. “Was that any better?”
She gave him a playful grin. “You’re getting there…” She shifted, urging him into the cradle of her hips, and wrapped her arms and legs around him, keeping him close.
Joe peered down at her, marveling at the love in her eyes as she met his gaze. He gently brushed a lock of hair from her eyes then kissed her again. “My God, Sadie,” he whispered when the kiss ended, pressing his forehead to hers for a moment, “when I saw you there last night with that gun under your chin—”
She stopped his words with a brief kiss. “I’m fine. Don’t give it another thought.”
He shook his head. “But—”
“Do you know what I kept thinking when Sean had that gun on me?” she interrupted. “I just kept telling myself, Joe will come for me. I know you’ve been worried about your ability to do your job, but you saved my life last night, Joe. You’re a hero—my hero.”
“I’m no hero,” he argued, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. “I was just doing what had to be done.”
“And putting yourself at risk in the process,” she reminded him.
“You’re everything to me, Sadie,” he told her softly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you. I love you. I always will.”
A slow grin curved her lips. “Well, then, Joe Dawson. I’d say you’d better get to showing me how much.”
He chuckled. “You need to rest.”
“I can rest later,” she told him, snaking her arms around his neck. “Right now, all I need is you.”
And as she pulled him down to receive her kiss, Joe realized he’d finally kept the promise he’d made to her over two years ago on that sun-drenched autumn afternoon before his deployment when they’d tearfully clung to one another, reluctant to part, too afraid to confess the truth in their hearts.
He’d come home.
Home to Sadie’s arms and to the love that had always been his beacon of light in the darkness. And no matter what the future might hold for them, Joe knew that it was her love that would sustain him, keep him true, and always—always—guide him home.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kate SeRine (pronounced “serene”) has been telling stories since before she could hold a pen. When she’s not writing, you’ll find Kate watching low-budget horror movies or geeking out over pretty much any movie adaptation of a comic book. As long as action and suspense are involved, she’s in!
Kate lives in a smallish, quintessentially Midwestern town with her husband and two sons, who share her love of storytelling. She never tires of creating new worlds to share and is even now working on her next project—probably while consuming way too much coffee.
Connect with Kate at www.kateserine.com, Facebook.com/kateserine, or on Twitter @KateSeRine.
WAR GAMES
An Endgame Ops Novella
LEA GRIFFITH
CHAPTER 1
2100 hours, January 15, 2011
Anthony “Rook” Granger was a big dude. From the top of his shorn head to the bottom of his…well, his foot and blade prosthesis, he was one of the largest men she’d ever encountered. And that was sitting down. If he were standing, he’d tower over her by at least a foot, ma
ybe more. His shoulders were broad, looking like they could carry the weight of the world and not falter. The hands he fisted on his muscled thighs clenched and unclenched, a warning in the gesture.
Vivi shivered. A steel door clanged shut behind her. One more cage door to go, and she’d be in the same room with him. His only visitor in three months. The man had been in solitary confinement since his sentencing, not allowed even a meeting with his lawyers. He’d been moved into this holding wing of the prison on orders from Brigadier General Kennedy Johansen of the U.S. Joint Special Operations Command.
The guard escorting her turned as they came to the door and smirked. “Wonder what kind of strings you pulled for this?”
Vivi arched a single brow and narrowed her gaze on the man. “We don’t have to talk for you to do your job, do we?”
His face went red, but he caught himself before he popped off in anger. “Turn around, please.” He may have said please, but it was an order nonetheless.
Vivi bristled and shoved the phone she’d been allowed to keep in her pocket. The phone was a concession, much like this meeting in the first place. Vivi had most definitely pulled strings, but so had the brigadier general.
The guard huffed. “Today?”
Her jaw tightened, but she turned, raising her arms and preparing for the feel of his hands on her body. She was glad she’d worn pants. God knows the bastard might have tried to cop a feel between her legs if she’d worn a skirt. As it was, he lingered too damn long.
The sound of metal sliding against concrete invaded the silence. Vivi turned her head toward the noise. Her quarry had wrapped his hands around the chains tethering him to the floor, knuckles bleeding to white at the grip he had on them.
His head was bowed, gaze on the floor beneath the metal folding chair he sat on. His stillness made goose bumps dance along her skin. He knew everything going on around him. No doubt about it.
She glared over her shoulder at the guard. “If you touch me there once more, I’m going to rip your arms off and beat you with them.”
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