by J. M. Madden
Geoffrey Nunce was in custody, awaiting trial, and Claire had been clean for nearly six months. The program was working for her.
We’d moved out of my uncle’s house, and into my apartment, but we visited the lake house often. Reminiscing about the “good old days” and promising to never forget.
I only hoped that someday Claire would forget what my part had been in that night, and I could sleep at night with the knowledge that my secret was safe. When you live with a junkie (or former junkie), you’re always wondering when the tide will turn.
The lust had worn off, and now we had to decide if we were really in love. Only time would give us that morsel of information. Only time, and I didn’t know how much time we actually had. Everything could change when Geoffrey Nunce finally went to trial.
* * *
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jamie Lee Scott is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries, and Uncertain Romantic Suspense Series.
In 2016, Jamie is releasing several novels in her romantic comedy stash. Stay tuned…
When Jamie isn’t writing, she’s riding. She lives on a small farm with her husband, three horses, two dogs, and two cats. In her spare time she’s a competitive barrel racer and award winning screenwriter.
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OTHER BOOKS BY JAMIE LEE SCOTT
GOTCHA DETECTIVE AGENCY Series
Let Us Prey
Textual Relations
Death of a Sales Rep
What a Meth
Tagged You’re It (a novelette)
Bad Vice
Electile Dysfunction
Who Gives A Split
UNCERTAIN ROMANTIC SUSPENSE Series
Uncertain Beginnings
Uncertain Calm
Uncertain Death
BRACE FOR CONTACT
A BLEND OF TREX & BRACE ADVENTURE
By
Allie K. Adams
USA Today Bestselling Author
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Website – Facebook – Twitter – Pinterest – Goodreads – Newsletter
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Also in the TREX Adventures Series
First Response (TREX 1 Brief – FREE Read)
Rescue Me (TREX 2)
At Any Cost (TREX 3)
No Way Out (TREX 4 Special Edition Brief)
Seek and Destroy (TREX 5)
Under the Covers (TREX 6)
TREX Boxed Set – ONE (TREX 1-3)
Out of Time (TREX 7)
Also in the BRACE Adventures Series
Brace for Impact (BRACE 1)
Brace for Contact (BRACE 2)
Copyright © 2015 by Allie K. Adams
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
LICENSE NOTES: This Ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This Ebook may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book with others, please purchase an additional copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Allie K. Adams
www.alliekadams.com
SUMMARY
Leaving is easy…
As an agent in the State Bureau of Investigation’s Narcotics Unit, it’s Norman “Nash” Ashford’s job to track down the drugs destroying his city and get them off the street. He’s one of the best narc agents the SBI has. Even with his talent at tracking, he’s never been able to find the one that got away—the brightest star to have ever blinded him. Nash has been trying to track her down ever since she walked away half a decade ago.
TREX Cadet Michaela “Mike” Starr is pulled from training on a matter of national security. Her ex-boyfriend has intel vital to the success of a find and is refusing to deliver, so TREX sends her in to persuade him to divulge his source. The man she ran away from is now her target.
Coming back is a whole other story.
Nash and Mike must work together to overcome their past, all while trying not to make the same mistakes. Instead, they make all new ones. Will they get it right this time?
TREX’S MISSION STATEMENT
Tactical Retrieval Experts (TREX) is a privately funded agency independent of law enforcement, military, or any governmental restrictions. Our focus is on tracking and retrieving objects. Simply put: we find things. Employing highly-trained agents with extensive experience in covert operations and unlimited resources, we will find anything and with guaranteed confidentiality. No matter the circumstances. No matter the danger. Call on TREX—we find what’s been lost.
ONE
TREX cadet Michaela Starr drew in a deep breath and slowly released it to settle her nerves, taking her time moving through the sparsely lit room. Slivers of sunlight served as the only light in the tight space. It burned through the narrow openings serving as windows of the two-story adobe structure. Heat waves bounced off the floor, causing the air to dance. It was that hot. But the shadows were steady. She scanned every corner, checking for movement. Seeing none, she announced, “North, clear.”
“South, clear.” A member of her team added over the com link, his voice barely above a whisper. They didn’t even need that with the sensitive lip mics.
She headed east, sneaking into the next room. Giving it a quick visual sweep to secure the perimeter, she took a breath to clear the room when a noise caught her attention. Flattening against the closest wall to disappear into the shadows, something her training had ingrained in her to be second nature, she fell silent and waited for the tango to appear so she could neutralize him. Or her. Gender didn’t matter, not when it was kill or be killed.
Her heart in her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears, she held her breath and stilled. One slight twitch, one little blink could end her. Sweat sprouted on her upper lip and forehead. It didn’t help that she had on over fifty pounds of gear, a helmet holding in all the heat, or that it was over a hundred degrees in the shade. Trickles of perspiration trailed down the small of her back, pooling right below her beltline. Damn, if the moisture moved any lower…
She clenched and stifled a groan when it did exactly that, tickling her all the way down the crack of her backside. How long had it been since she’d had a nice, hot bath? At this point, she’d prefer a cold shower. A dip in the mud puddle they’d passed on the way to this hideout. Hell, anything to wash away the sweat and grime. She’d never had so much sand take refuge in all her crevices. She’d spent close to two years in the Middle East, so that said something.
“West, clear.”
Shit. If she didn’t do something, she’d risk the entire op. Her team counted on her. She had to clear the room. With a deep breath and a silent prayer, she stepped out of the shadows.
And ne
arly got her ass blown off.
“Contact, east!” She dodged round after round and fired off a few of her own for cover in order to bolt from the spot where she’d given up her position. Only a few more feet. She’d have her choice of shadows to hide in and regroup.
A tango appeared in the doorframe directly in front of her. Where’d he come from? Panic slowed her motion. She aimed her rifle a nanosecond too late. Two rounds hit her square in the chest. It was over. For her. For her team. She’d failed.
A buzzer went off right before the entire room lit up. Cussing, she jerked off her helmet and dropped it at her feet. Disappointment clung to her, joining the rest of the undesirables covering her body. “Son of a bi—”
“Mike!” The shooter barked her nickname and removed his disguise, which only made things worse. She’d just been taken out by the instructor. He charged, not slowing until he literally spit on her as he screamed in her face. “What did I tell you about two exit points?”
His breath smelled as bad as she felt. None of them had seen civilization for over forty-eight hours. They’d been dropped in the middle of the dessert with nothing but the clothes on their back and the rifle in their hand. The agency definitely took field training to a whole new level.
“Two exit points are two entry points, sir.” She recited one of the many rules she’d broken on this simulation.
“We start again at oh-dark-thirty.”
“Come on, sir.” One of the guys protested as he entered the room. “We did everything right. It was Mike who screwed up.”
“Win as a team,” Instructor Scott barked.
“Lose as a team,” the rest grumbled, all of them glaring, sending daggers her way.
Mike dropped her gaze. “Sorry, guys.”
“Apologize to my girlfriend,” Rodriguez growled, his dark eyes cool, conveying just how pissed he was. “I haven’t been home in almost a week now.”
“Get off her ass.” Chappelle challenged him, puffing out his chest. “We’re all doing the best we can.”
“You just want on her ass,” Rodriguez countered.
“Say that to my face.”
“I just did.”
“Enough!” The instructor grabbed them both by the collar. “Hit the showers, hotheads. That goes for the rest of you.”
Thank God. Finally, she’d be able to wash off the layers of grime that had made her body home for the past two days. She jogged out of the room and was to the stairs when Scott shouted her name.
She skidded to stop. Damn it. He only held students back when he wanted to deliver an exceptionally craptastic punishment. Glancing down the stairs, she contemplated her options. If she went back in there, he’s smoke her. He’d smoke her hard, make her do some sort of physically draining exercise until she collapsed from exhaustion. It wouldn’t take her long. She was close to collapsing now. If she made a break for it, he’d simply tell the director. She’d be brought in for questioning, punished, and then smoked even harder.
The decision shouldn’t have even taken her this long.
Jogging back to the instructor, she stopped and stood at attention, her chin out. “Sir.”
“This isn’t the goddamn military. This is the private sector, cadet.” When she didn’t react, he added, “At ease.”
She widened her stance and settled her hands into the small of her back. Once military, always military. Shock rounded her eyes when a man walked out from the shadows. Holy hell. It was the special director of all the TREX frontline divisions. She recognized from some of the training videos. Her heart thudding in her ears, she straightened her shoulders and stood a little taller as he approached.
It did no good. He towered over her 5’7” frame. She craned her neck to stare at the bottom of his square chin. Jesus, he was even more intimidating in person with his size and that buzzed head. And broad shoulders. Narrow hips. Piercing blue eyes. He didn’t say anything, simply watched her, studying her, assessing her.
She’d heard about his uncanny ability to size people up within seconds of meeting them. Was that why he’d made a personal appearance at Gahanna, TREX’s boot camp for field agents?
“You need to feed your recruits better, Scotty.” He regarded the instructor, a man as big as the director and an even harder expression permanently plastered to his face. “This one looks like she’ll blow away in a light breeze. Don’t they come in adult size anymore?”
As much as Mike wanted to tell him what he could do with his opinion of her size, she kept her eyes straight ahead, her expression reserved. He wanted her to react and would dig at her until she did exactly that. Been there, been smoked for that. For six years, the drill sergeants in the Army had screamed at her, degraded her, and beat her down to rebuild her into the soldier she’d grown into. She’d done two tours overseas. She didn’t leave the service to go through any of that torture again.
“Don’t they require you ladies to eat?”
“We all eat, sir.” She didn’t want to stand here discussing her eating habits. There was a hot shower calling her name.
“You’re too skinny.”
“You’re too judgmental,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?”
Oh, hell. Did she say that out loud? She thrust out her chin and stared straight ahead. “Nothing, sir.”
“If you have something on your mind, by all means, share it.”
She darted a quick glance at Scott, who gave her a terse shake of his head. “Sorry, sir. I was out of line.”
“Tomorrow is too late, Cadet Starr.”
“Mike,” Scott corrected.
The director jumped his gaze to the instructor. “What?”
“Her name,” he said with a nod at her. She bounced her attention between the giants as they flanked her. “It’s Mike. No one calls her Starr.”
“I don’t care.” He sighed when Scott gave him the same hard look he gave the team right before he smoked them. “Fine. You are such a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“So are you.” Scott grinned when the director shot him with a glare. “Sometimes.”
“Do you know who I am, Mike?” He shot a look at Scott.
She squared her shoulders. “Special Director Dan Weber, sir. You’re in charge of all the agency’s frontline divisions.”
“No need to shout. I’m right here.”
“Yes, sir!” she shouted before dropping a string of her favorite cuss words. Softening her voice, she replied quietly, “Sorry, sir.”
“She definitely has a mouth,” he commented to Scott. “Did you teach her that, too?”
“That, she came with. This one can even outcuss you.”
Heat slapped her cheeks. Her mom lectured her all the time on her language. Even her dad didn’t cuss as much as she did.
“We’ll need to clean that up if this is going to work. We can’t have her going around dropping F bombs like that in public.”
Scott snorted. Mike had never even seen him crack a smile. “F bomb? Really?”
Weber rolled his eyes. “Steph is repeating every damn thing I say. JT spent an hour this morning chewing my ear about how our daughter is about to get kicked out of daycare for having a trucker’s mouth. So, yeah. F bomb.”
“Whipped,” Scott coughed, then laughed when the director shot him a lethal glare.
“We may go way back, but I’m still your goddamn boss, Scotty.”
“Fine. You’re whipped, sir.”
“You’re such a pain in the ass,” he growled before returning his attention to Mike, resting that assessing gaze on her. “Tell me what you know about Norman Ashford III.”
“Nash?” She hadn’t spoken that name in close to five years. It had been twice that long since she’d heard his real name.
Weber and Scott exchanged knowing glances. “Told you,” Scott said.
Told him what? Why were they discussing her relationship with an ex? Why were they discussing her at all? “Permission to speak.”
They faced her. When she didn’
t continue, Weber narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed. “Are you going to?”
Heat slapped her cheeks yet again. She didn’t want to piss him off and end up with shit assignments when she graduated to the field. “I’m used to waiting until given permission, sir.”
“Let’s get something straight.” He moved to the other side of the room and glanced out one of the slivers, keeping his back to her. “You’re no longer in the service. I don’t want to have to remind you of that again. You’re TREX now. ” He glanced over his shoulder, nailing her with that glare. “Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Slowly, she unfolded her stance and rested her arms by her side. So far, she’d made a stellar first impression to the most important man in TREX aside from the head of the entire agency. Vic Greene stayed hands off, from what she’d been able to tell. Rumor had it, Weber was next in line for the position once Greene stepped down.
He went to another sliver to stare out. “Ashford has information on a find that’s vital to its success. He’s being less than cooperative. That’s where you come in.”
“Me?” Once she realized how far her jaw had dropped, she snapped it shut. “What can I do?”
Weber faced her. “You can convince him to talk.”
How in the hell was she supposed to do that? They hadn’t seen each other since college. She knew nothing about him anymore. He probably didn’t even remember her. Too bad. She definitely remembered him. Chocolate brown eyes. Shaggy blond hair he never combed. A smile that drove her crazy. A touch that sent her into the stratosphere. Her skin hummed at the memory of how he used to…
“Dilated pupils. Elevated heartrate. Flushed skin.” Weber’s laundry list of her obvious reaction to nothing but a memory had her wishing there were more shadows. The oppressive heat sank into her. She was close to collapsing from the combination of heat exhaustion and mortification. “There’s no question whether you remember him or not.”
Jesus. He really was one perceptive son of a bitch. “Why would he talk to me if he won’t talk to you?”
