Mastiff Security: The Complete 5 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  And then the social worker called and said they had an infant for them to take in, a boy who was less than a week old. The mother had abandoned him in the hospital and subsequently agreed to give up her parental rights. This child could be clear for adoption in less than a year. Did they want him?

  The catch was, they weren’t licensed for more than one child at a time. They had to choose between Axel and this new, perfect little boy.

  Who wouldn’t prefer a baby over a half-grown child?

  That was when he knew he’d never find a forever home, that he would never be wanted. That was when he decided that if the world didn’t want him, then he didn’t want the world. He didn’t let people in, didn’t make friends, didn’t trust anyone. His fellow SEALs? He trusted them only as far as their training would get them. He hadn’t spoken to most of them since leaving the service. Women? He’d broken a lot of hearts since he was fourteen, but he didn’t believe in the existence of love, didn’t believe in soul mates or commitment. And he always made that damn clear from the very beginning.

  The closest person in his life at the moment was Durango. But he saw Durango as his boss, his leader. Not his friend and definitely not family.

  If it came down to it, Axel was out for number one and nothing else.

  But Abigail . . . she’d somehow found a crack in the walls he’d put up after being the loser in the baby lottery. Just looking at her made him want to remember what it was like to be hugged, to laugh and hold his sister’s hand, to have bedtime stories read to him. It made him want to experience that again, that sense of family. But he knew he wasn’t cut out for that.

  She didn’t know what she was asking for when she looked at him. She didn’t see the truth about him, she only saw what she wanted to see.

  He didn’t want to be there when she realized he wasn’t everything she’d built him up to be in her mind.

  Even as these thoughts floated through his mind, he couldn’t help but hope she was okay back at the safe house. He understood her frustration. He’d get her out as soon as he could.

  Then his phone rang.

  “We have an issue,” Durango muttered in a low voice. “You’re sweetheart, Ms. Rains, has escaped the safe house and gotten one of our operators arrested.”

  “How?”

  “She claimed he was trying to kidnap her in front of a patrol officer. I’m headed down there now to straighten the whole damn thing out.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Go find her before she gets herself killed on our watch!”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty sure I know where she’s headed.”

  “Get this under control, Axel, or we’re all going to be answering a lot of uncomfortable questions.”

  Axel disconnected the call and got up, marching to the cockpit.

  “Change of plans . . .”

  Chapter 34

  Boston, Massachusetts

  Logan International Airport

  Abigail hurt all over, her thigh throbbing like an ingrown toenail. She moved slowly when she stood, wondering if she’d pulled a muscle or something when she ran from the Mastiff operative and that cop. She still couldn’t believe she got away from them. Every time she turned a corner, every time she left a building, she thought someone would be there waiting for her, but they never were.

  She’d checked into a hotel in Springfield, not far from the airport, and booked this ticket to Boston with one of the computers in the hotel’s business center. It helped that her accountant was in Springfield and a quick trip to his office provided her with access to her accounts and a spare credit card in her name.

  Thank goodness for Benton Stern.

  She even had a new suitcase filled with clothes she’d purchased at the mall downtown.

  Maybe money did come in handy from time to time.

  But it wasn’t doing much for her pain. She shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable, but it was no use. Nothing in these narrow seats was comfortable. She could have sprung for first class, for the bigger chairs and the free booze, but her father had raised a frugal daughter. New clothes were a necessity. Bigger chairs and free booze wasn’t, unfortunately.

  She shifted again.

  “You okay?” the nice woman in the seat beside her asked. They’d already had quite a conversation. Abigail knew the names of all her children and grandchildren, as well as their ages and occupations. But she had yet to learn the woman’s name.

  “I’m all right. Just ready to get up and walk around a little.”

  “Yes, these long flights are hard on a body.”

  The woman patted her hand and smiled that motherly smile that women her age seemed to come by easily. Abigail thought her mother would have had a nice smile just like that if she’d lived to be this woman’s age.

  It saddened her sometimes to realize her mother would never see her own grandchildren, would never be able to brag to her friends and strangers on a plane about them. Not that Abigail planned to have seventeen like this woman’s four children had done, but maybe two or three. She’d always wanted at least one of each.

  She wasn’t sure that would happen, though. Men were scarce out there in the middle of nowhere Illinois. And Axel . . . but she wasn’t going to think about him.

  There was no point in beating a dead horse, her father always said. And he had a good point.

  The plane landed fifteen minutes later, bumping hard on the tarmac. The pain flared in Abigail’s leg, making her bite her lip. They should never have taken her out of the hospital so soon. At the very least, those painkillers were a wonderful thing. She could use some of that right now.

  She limped off the plane with the other passengers, her suitcase in her hands. She jerked out the handle the moment she had a little space, dragging it behind her like 90 percent of the people around her. It was a long walk to the set of doors that would let her out to where baggage claim and the rental car counters were. She needed a car. She didn’t want to have to rely on taxis to take her where she needed to go. And she wanted to be able to leave quickly.

  Morty wasn’t going to be happy to see her, and, at this point, she had no idea how he was going to respond to her visit.

  She was minding her own business, watching a little girl toddle along behind her mother with a bag of her own rolling behind her, a little smile on her lips. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a little girl just like that? It was just as that thought was floating through her mind that she saw him, leaning casually against the wall, dressed in dark jeans and a gray t-shirt with Mastiff’s logo over his heart, a pair of sunglasses obscuring his gaze.

  Axel.

  He pushed away from the wall when he saw her coming, slipping the glasses off even as he offered the little girl a slight smile. Her mother was more interested in him than the child, but his eyes moved to Abigail, dismissing the woman like one might dismiss a flyer on their windshield.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Did you really think they wouldn’t tell me what you’d done? Or that I wouldn’t guess where you’d gone?”

  “I didn’t ask you to come here. I don’t need your protection anymore.”

  “I think you need it now more than ever.” He snatched the handle of her suitcase out of her hand, pulling it in front of him and sinking it back into the case. “You’re not seriously thinking you can confront him on your own and walk away, are you?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “What difference does it make to you? You never believed me.”

  “I do believe you. I told you I was going to check him out as soon as we were done in San Diego.”

  “Are you done in San Diego?”

  “You interrupted that whole trip. But my team is on their way as we speak.”

  “They won’t find anything.”

  “Maybe not, but they’ll walk away intact. That’s more than I can say for you if you go forward with this insane idea.”

  “What do you care? The case is over for you.”


  “No, it’s not over until we find the hitman and put him in jail.”

  “I told you, he doesn’t deserve to go to jail. Morty does.”

  “Is that what you really believe?”

  “Yes.” She grabbed at her suitcase, trying to take it from him, but he moved it behind his back like it was just a little trinket that weighed nothing. “I’ll handle this on my own, thank you very much.”

  “No, you won’t. Mastiff Security took payment for this case. We have to see it through.”

  “Morty likely is the one who paid you!”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  Abigail groaned. “You’re an ass, you now that?”

  “I thought we established that I’m an asshole.”

  A woman passing them gave Axel a dirty look. He just flashed her one of his charming smiles.

  Abigail groaned again and moved around him, marching toward the rental car counters. He grabbed her arm and yanked her back against his chest.

  “Scream. Tell everyone I’m kidnapping you, and I’ll make sure you get to see the inside of that mental hospital again.” He pulled her even closer, his arm slipping across her shoulders and up against her neck. “You’re going to my hotel room with me and we’re going to discuss this like civilized people. Do you understand?”

  “And if I don’t? If I scream?”

  “I have a piece of paper in my pocket signed by a judge here in Massachusetts that declares you mentally unfit. I’ll tell anyone who asks that I’m here to escort you to the hospital, and I bet we’ll be able to get a police escort.”

  “You’re lying!”

  “You want to test me? Go for it.” His lips brushed her ear. “My boss is pretty pissed at you for making this mess. He’d be perfectly happy to see you in the hospital for the next seventy-two hours.”

  She believed him. She wasn’t sure why or even if she should, but she did.

  “I’m not leaving Boston until we’ve talked to Morty.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  He walked her out to the rental car he had waiting near the curb. There was a law enforcement sign in the corner of the windshield, allowing him to park just about anywhere he wanted to. It made her wonder how many of these slightly illegal tricks he had up his sleeve.

  “How did you know what flight I’d be on?”

  “We have some pretty impressive tech people back at the office. One of them was able to hack the airlines’ computer systems.”

  “How did you know I wasn’t flying under an alias?”

  “The laws changed after September 11. You can’t travel unless you have a picture identification. I had a hunch you didn’t have time to have a fake made.”

  She hadn’t thought of that.

  She settled in the passenger seat and stared out the window as he drove. Her leg was throbbing intensely. She rubbed it, feeling the pain flare with every pass over the part the doctors had stitched up. They told her the bullet had been embedded in muscle and she’d be sore for a while, but they hadn’t been specific about how sore. She really wished she’d thought to stop and search for the painkillers the guys at the safe house had been hoarding.

  “I’m fine, by the way,” he said into the silence of the car.

  “I assumed so.”

  “They made me stay on those damn IV antibiotics until Tuesday morning. But they said I’ll be all right if the stitches don’t pop or something.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Are you?”

  Abigail looked at him. He had those sunglasses back on and was staring hardcore out the windshield, watching the traffic in front of them closely. His knuckles were white because he was holding the steering wheel so tightly.

  Did he really care that much what she thought?

  “I am glad you’re okay.”

  “How are you? How’s your leg?”

  She turned back to the window. “Sore. But they said it would be.”

  “We can get you something for the pain when we get to the hotel.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  He was quiet for a minute. Then he sighed. “Whatever.”

  The hotel turned out to be a luxury hotel right downtown, one of those hotels with lots of balconies and beautiful views of the entire city. He must have had a room already, because he dragged Abigail to the elevator without stopping at the front desk, holding her wrist rather than her hand. She felt like a naughty child being dragged to her bedroom by her parent.

  She yanked her arm away when they were behind closed elevator doors.

  “Why are you fighting me so hard? I’m trying to help you!”

  She just shook her head, determined to ignore him.

  The elevator stopped on the tenth floor. Instead of taking her wrist, he gestured for her to lead the way. He stopped at a door halfway down the long corridor, using a key card to open it.

  “Help yourself to anything you need. Take a shower if you wish. I have some phone calls I need to make and then we’ll talk.”

  Abigail paused just inside the door, drinking in the huge, beautiful room. It was a suite with a full-sized sitting room that included lovely French doors that looked out on a wide balcony. There were two bedrooms with a bathroom adjoining them, his open duffle on a valet in the first bedroom. She found herself studying the clothes hanging out of the bag, the jeans and a pair of boxer briefs in the same color as his Mastiff shirt. It didn’t take much for her to imagine him in those briefs. And the image brought a blush to her cheeks.

  She shook herself a little and walked to the other bedroom, slipping inside and pushing the door closed. She closed her eyes, her breath coming in hard gasps.

  “What the hell, Abigail?” she mumbled. “You’ve got to get passed this!”

  She turned and stared at the bed, at the thin comforter and the inviting pillows. She threw herself across it, a gasp escaping her lips when she banged her thigh on the edge of the mattress. She wanted this over with! She wanted her body back, her life back! She wanted to go back to her boring, stupid, pointless life and forget she had ever met Axel Kinkaid!

  God, why did he have to be so beautiful? Why did he have to be so perfect? And why did he have to come save her? Why couldn’t Mastiff have sent someone else to her rescue?

  She screamed into the pillow, and it felt so good that she did it again.

  “Abigail?”

  She twisted, a blush burning her cheeks when she saw him standing there at the doorway. He had a bottle of water and a bottle of pills.

  “I told you, I’m fine.”

  “You’re in pain.” He held up the bottle so she could see it better. “It’s just ibuprofen.”

  She grunted as she got up, willing to take anything if it’d take the edge off the soreness. She took the bottle and watched as he shook two pills into the palm of his hand. His fingers brushed her palm as he laid the pills there, a shiver rushing through her that made her nipples harden. She turned away so that he wouldn’t see, crossing her arms over her chest before she settled on the edge of the bed.

  “You’re done with your calls?”

  “Not yet. I just thought I’d come see if you wanted something to eat. I can order up room service.”

  “You going to hold me prisoner like they did back in Springfield?”

  “No. You’re free to go if that’s what you want.”

  “Why am I here, then?”

  “You’re here because I have an idea how we can take your ex down. Are you interested?”

  He suddenly had her full attention.

  “What’s your plan?”

  Chapter 35

  Cambridge, Massachusetts

  Harvard University

  Abigail’s heart was in her throat. Axel swore this would work, but she wasn’t as confident as him. If Morty figured out what she was up to . . .

  “He won’t know. He’ll think he knows, but he won’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because this is what we do at Mastiff.” />
  Once again, she wanted to believe him. And, really, she did. She held on to every word he said. Despite everything, she knew he was the man who’d kept her safe from that madman, that he was the one who got her out of that barn, who got her out of her hometown, the one who caught that man and helped her find the information that led her back to where she’d started: the lecture halls in the bioengineering department at Harvard.

  “Just remember to act normal. If you start shaking or panicking, he’ll know.” He brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Stay calm. Confident. And you’ll get him right in that big, brown bag.”

  She knew he was right—could still feel his fingers on her cheek—but she wasn’t sure she could pull it off. She wished she was assured in her own capabilities as he was.

  With a deep breath, she pushed through the door at the back of lecture hall B. He was at the front of the room gathering his things, placing them in a couple of cardboard boxes.

  “I heard you were retiring. Didn’t really believe it, though.”

  He looked up, his big blue eyes even bigger when he looked at her through the thick lenses of his glasses.

  “Abigail Rains. I never thought I’d see you again!”

  “Morton Appleton. You look exactly the same.”

  He touched his flat stomach. “You think? Someone told me this morning I was looking too thin.”

  “You’ve always been on the thin side.”

  Abigail walked slowly down the steps to where he was; she was aware he was watching her, his eyes moving slowly over the length of her. He used to look at her that way quite often like he wasn’t quite sure what to think about what he was seeing. But then his eyes rested on her breasts a moment too long and she knew something she’d been too naive to know back then: he was a man just like any other, only interested in the parts that offered pleasure.

  It was her stupid mistake to believe he was interested in her mind, too.

  “What are you doing here, Abigail?”

  “I just wanted to come and ask you why.”