Blue Blood's Trifecta

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Blue Blood's Trifecta Page 7

by Cheyenne Meadows


  Somehow she would navigate her way through this convoluted puzzle and cling to the man who bestowed such blessings upon her.

  Chapter 15

  "What's wrong with you? You've been acting like a lion with a sore paw for the past week."

  Lark plucked containers out of a white plastic bag, setting each one on a placemat. Napkins and plastic silverware soon followed. While she unloaded their carry-out meal, Ryan filled glasses with ice, pouring soda for each to drink.

  "Nothing."

  She snorted, pulled out a wooden kitchen chair and plopped down. "This is me you're talking to, not the parents."

  He placed the cup in front of her, then his own, before setting a half-full two liter bottle in between them. Taking his seat, he opened the Styrofoam, grabbed his fork, and sliced through the still hot lasagna.

  "So, what's eating you?" Lark popped the box top and dug into her meal.

  Unsure he wanted to actually have this discussion, he only shrugged. How did he explain what happened when he didn't understand it himself? Not only that, he feared Lark's response. If she showed blatant censure, what would his parents think? Especially his general of a father? There was a reason men didn't speak of exploits with other men in the Army. During his time, the rule ground down to "Don't Ask, Don't Tell." He never really considered the consequences or appropriateness of such an order until the past couple of days. Now, he didn't know what to think, what to do, or how to handle the spur of the moment occurrence.

  Sucking in a breath, he focused on chewing his food, finding the taste becoming blander with each bite.

  "Ryan?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Is it work?" Lark sipped her drink and returned the glass to the table.

  "No."

  "Woman problems?"

  "No." He almost snickered. At the moment, woman problems would be a blessing. He could normally handle them without too much difficulty. Besides, after his last date with Tempest that ended with her spending the night, he could definitely say the woman in his life provided the bright spot. They made another date for Friday night. He couldn't wait. "Tempest and I are doing just fine. She stayed with me Tuesday night."

  "You should be happy as a clam, not surly as a constipated camel." She studied him for a moment. "Let me guess. There's a national shortage of pepperoni pizza." She grinned at him.

  Ryan rolled his eyes and snorted.

  "Come on. 'Fess up. Really." She patted his arm with her smaller hand. "I've never seen you so on edge before. I'm worried."

  Setting down his fork, he released a long suffering sigh. If anyone could or would understand, it would be Lark. She knew him almost better than he knew himself. Besides, maybe she could pinpoint the problem in order for him to reason himself through this mess then move forward.

  "I kissed a man."

  She did a double take, eyes widening as she stared at him. "A man?"

  "Yeah." He nodded.

  "Whoa. How did that happen?"

  Cradling his face in his hands, he sucked in a deep breath. "I don't know. One minute we were arguing over a woman, the next, we were tongue wrestling."

  "Well, did you like it?"

  He considered her question for a long moment, scrubbed his face, and answered truthfully, "Yeah."

  "Did he kiss you back?"

  "God, yes." Boy howdy did he return the kiss. As if the universe stopped revolving while the two of them battled it out with their lips.

  "Wow." Her head tilted this way and that. "Do you think you're gay?"

  "No." He shook his head. "I still want women, am attracted to them. Hell, Tempest and I nearly set the sheets on fire." Ryan ran one hand through his short blond hair in agitation. "I don't think of kissing other men. It just sort of happened. Why him? Why now?"

  She tapped her lips with a well-manicured finger. "So maybe this guy is special and the exception to your straightness?"

  "Shit if I know." He met her gaze stoically. "All I know is that it can't happen again."

  Her brows furrowed as her bright blue eyes expressed concern and curiosity. "Why not?"

  "He's a man, damn it."

  "I see. I never thought you were a bigot."

  Ryan sucked in a breath, struggled with immediate anger, finally succeeding in gaining control over the volatile emotion. "I'm not," he said between clenched teeth.

  "Then what's the problem?"

  "What's the problem? Are you listening to yourself or to this conversation at all? I kissed a man, that's the problem!"

  How could she sit there so calm and nonplussed? She looked at him like he'd announced he planned on baking a cake for dessert instead of confessing to a homosexual act. His gut churned and his heart pounded while she acted like nothing was wrong. So… accepting. A placid breeze to the hurricane that took over his life.

  "Ryan…" She swiveled in her chair to face him directly, scooting close enough to rest her hand comfortably on his arm. "I can see how upsetting this is for you. Maybe even illogical and something that's put a large chunk of chaos in your life. But, let's think about this rationally."

  He snorted.

  "It's not the end of the world, you know."

  "I'm not sure of that." His voice, filled with hopelessness, came across as a whisper.

  "What's the worst that could happen? You could find another part of yourself and perhaps happiness with another person in your life."

  "I could also lose my job, the respect of my family, and my fucking sanity."

  "I don't think so."

  He arched an eyebrow at her.

  She waved her hand. "Besides the anti-discrimination laws, I personally will kick anyone's ass that whispered a word against you."

  "Yeah, that's the answer." He put enough sarcasm in his tone for her to pick up easily.

  "Then what is?"

  "For me to forget it ever happened and move on with my life."

  Chapter 16

  Ryan stepped through the front door of Chopper Views, finding Tempest sitting at her desk. She glanced up at the cheerful ding of the bell attached to the door, a smile immediately appeared on her face, causing her to glow and enhancing her beauty. He sucked in a breath at the amazing sight.

  "Hi. Let me shut down the computer then I'm ready." Her soft voice caressed him with dainty feathers stroking his desire for the petite beauty with the Einstein IQ.

  "Going out again?" Rogue leaned against the threshold of his office door, arms crossed over his chest.

  A mighty fine chest, too. Ryan shook his head to rattle the out-of-the-blue thought away for good. A man might appreciate another man's build, strength, or prominent muscles, but the sight of a wide chest covered by powerful arms didn't normally click on their radar. Unless the guy happened to be gay. Which he wasn't. Then why am I admiring Rogue?

  Without an answer, he pulled his gaze to Tempest and the conversation at hand. "Yep."

  Surprisingly, Rogue just nodded, shooting them both a small smile. "Okay. Have fun."

  Tempest's eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment, but she remained mute.

  Ryan blinked at his rival, both past and present, and simply shrugged. Whatever game Rogue played, he wouldn't participate in a verbal exchange, not in front of Tempest. The bastard probably had some devious plan in mind, planting ideas in his employee's head, tarnishing her view of him. He quickly tossed the thought out the window. Whatever Rogue was, dishonest and dirty wasn't it. In all their tussles, he always fought fair. In your face was his style, not sneaky and backstabbing.

  "Don't forget our date tomorrow night." Rogue winked at his employee.

  "No worries." She grinned at him before turning her attention back to Ryan. "I'm ready."

  His phone rang. Automatically he answered, murmuring under his breath about poor timing. "Blake."

  "Ryan. It's Bryce. Lark's been shot."

  * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, Ryan plowed down the hall of City Hospital, searching for the right room number, Tempest and Rogue in his w
ake. Both demanded to tag along, serious expressions of concern and worry written across both their faces. Too stunned to do more than race to his sister's side, he didn't bother to argue in the least.

  From what little information Bryce told him, the act wasn't random and if Lark hadn't turned at the last second, she would be dead instead of in a hospital bed suffering from a bullet crease at her ribcage, which left a long gouge along her right side deep into the tissue and fractured a couple of ribs in the process. The fact that someone tried to kill her and she now was in a good amount of pain because of some dumb shit wanting to pad his pockets sent a wave of rage over him.

  Fury didn't start to describe what he felt at the moment.

  Coming to room two-fourteen he shoved the door open without bothering to knock, nearly bowling down a handful of others standing around her bed.

  "Dillon and Bryce will stay with you, guard you around the clock. The rest of us will track down this monster." Night's commanding voice carried across the room.

  "I don't need a fucking guard. I need my Glock and some decent clothes." She pushed the oversized sleeves of her hospital gown up to cover her shoulders, temporarily fixing where the unflattering material gaped at the front, stretching her IV line tight before Bryce moved the machine closer to give her more slack. "Then I'm going to track down that imbecile and nail his ass."

  For the first time since the terrifying phone call, Ryan grinned. At least Lark's spirit and temper hadn't been affected by a bullet wound.

  "Sorry, babe. The doctor said a day or two here for IV antibiotics." Bryce sat beside Lark on the bed, his arm wrapped possessively around her. Leaning in, he kissed her temple.

  Her frown only deepened.

  "Would someone mind telling me what happened?" Ryan asked, vaguely noticing Rogue and Tempest filing in behind him, jockeying for space in the small private room.

  "Barbie got shot," Loco declared before Lark slugged him in the arm. "Ow. Is that any way to treat a comrade?"

  She snorted.

  Night shook his head from the far side of the room. "Sniper."

  "Related to the ambush?" Ryan asked.

  "Probably. Someone tried to run Spoon off the road this morning, a couple hours before Lark was hit."

  Tempest gasped behind him.

  "What are we going to do?"

  Night arched an eyebrow in his direction. "We? This is a Wind Warrior problem."

  Lines of worry and pain creased Lark's normally smooth face, pricking Ryan's protective instincts and rage like nothing else. The team would protect her. He would make sure the son of a bitch that pulled the trigger met his fate.

  "The fuck it is. They shot my sister. I owe them."

  "Not your jurisdiction."

  "Shooting a federal officer is my jurisdiction, damn it. Besides, I was involved from the beginning."

  Ryan met Night's stare, refusing to back down or look away. He was pissed. Whatever it took, moving heaven or high water, he would track down the bastard himself and drag him to justice. If he didn't pummel him to death first.

  "I'm in, too," Rogue announced behind him.

  A surge jolted through him with the show of support. He twisted in order to look at the slightly taller man with black hair. "Not your battle, either."

  Rogue sneered at him. "It is now." He nodded toward Lark whose head snapped this way and that at the rapid-fire conversation.

  With a small nod of appreciation to Rogue, Ryan turned back to face Night. "We're in. Now what are we going to do?"

  "There are only two men in the Pentagon who know we exist and would have the authority and ability to access personal information on each member." Shoving a hand through his long blue-black hair, Night released a long sigh. "I still don't believe they would turn traitor on us."

  "Then who else would it be?" Cale asked from Lark's left.

  "I wish the hell I knew."

  "I can hack into their computers," Spoon offered.

  Night's dark blue gaze fell on the dark brown haired team member. "Can you get past Pentagon firewalls?"

  Spoon shrugged. "I haven't tried in a while, but with patience and time, probably, especially if I know who we're looking at. A better plan might be to narrow down the search and go after their home computers. I can get into them much quicker, with less hassle. They feel freer to divulge info at home than at the Pentagon. Besides, it'll keep me out of jail if the Pentagon safeguards find me."

  "Who else would have access to their computers or the information in the system concerning us?" Loco asked.

  "Not many, but a few. High up. Real high."

  "Maybe I can use my FBI pull to get someone in," Ryan offered.

  "Thought the Pentagon and FBI hated one another?" Cale asked.

  "Most of the time. But they do appreciate all the information gathering we do for them in advance."

  "I'm still DEA. I can get inside." Lark leaned into Bryce, her small frame appearing to shrink as she physically wore out. Though she took a full time position with the Wind Warriors, she remained on the DEA's payroll as a consultant, case-by-case status.

  "You're not going anywhere for at least a couple of days," her fiancé reminded her sternly.

  "We can't wait that long. Spoon, get to work on finding a way into their computers. I'll set up a meeting with our primary contact," Night said.

  "And tell him what?" Loco asked.

  Night ambled toward the door. "That we have concerns, of course." With that said, he opened the door and walked out.

  "Damn. He's going head hunting." Cale whistled low.

  Ryan grinned. "I'm glad he's on our side."

  "Oh, yeah. He's one scary bastard," Rogue replied, his tone full of respect.

  Loco unwound from leaning on the back wall, shifting his shoulders to loosen them. "Okay, gentlemen. Let's head out. I have a feeling we'll be getting a phone call sooner rather than later."

  Each member of the Wind Warriors smiled at Lark, teased her, and scurried away before she could belt them for their antics. Rogue and Tempest followed suit, although Tempest gave Lark a quick hug before heading out.

  Once they all left, Lark's bright blue gaze fell to Ryan and she rolled her eyes. "Come to harass me, too?"

  "Nope." He leaned over and gave her a gentle hug. "You scared me."

  Bryce nuzzled her cheek, maintaining his position by her side. "Me, too. I'm afraid gray hairs will sprout tomorrow over this."

  "It wasn't like I planned on this happening," she grouched.

  "No one ever does." Ryan shot her a grin.

  She looked at him for a long moment. "You and Rogue?"

  His face heated immediately. Damn. He hadn't blushed since the second grade when he discovered girls really didn't have cooties. When he said nothing, she rambled on.

  "I can see the sparks between you two. When he volunteered to go along, you tensed up in anticipation, excitement." She waved her hand. "Maybe in annoyance. I don't know. But there's definitely an ember there."

  Bryce glanced at him, the corner of his mouth tilted upward. "This should be interesting."

  Relieved that his future brother-in-law seemed to accept the situation, Ryan shook his head. "I'm going out with Tempest."

  "Yep. Her, too."

  He arched an eyebrow at his baby sister. She grinned like a Cheshire cat. "You never know until you try."

  "Yeah, right." He snorted, but his mind quickly wrapped around the idea, sinking its claws deep and stubbornly refusing to let go. Checking his watch, he stepped closer to kiss her cheek. "Speaking of Tempest, I better find her and make a rain check for this evening."

  Turning on his heel, he walked out of the room, his thoughts whirling with Lark's words on top of the recent happenings. First things first. Digging out his phone, he punched in Tempest's number.

  Chapter 17

  "Rogue? We got a hit."

  Anticipation surged through his body hearing those words over the phone. The last forty-eight hours of waiting and watching had eat
en on his nerves like nothing else could, wondering if they could track down the needle in a haystack or when the phone would ring with more dire news about another of the team members being down for the count.

  "What is it?"

  "Not over the phone. We're meeting at Center City Park." Night rattled off an address, which Rogue scribbled down on a piece of scratch paper. "Got it."

  "One hour."

  "I'll be there."

  The call clicked off.

  "Tempest? I've got to go out for a while." He stood and marched out of his office to stand in front of her desk.

  She met his gaze, her brown eyes turbulent with emotion, namely worry. His heart tore at her clear upset. Pulling up the spare chair, he plopped down beside her. "What's wrong?"

  Grasping a pile of papers, she stacked them in a metal tray on the side of the old wooden desk. "I… nothing." Her unsteady voice told him otherwise.

  "Come on. Talk to me. Are you worried about staying here alone?"

  She shook her head. "No. You made sure when you hired me that I could handle a gun and protect myself."

  The corner of his mouth tilted up at the memory her words evoked. Several hours at the shooting range with his arms around her, showing her the proper stance and alignment. Days of both torture and heaven wound together.

  "I'm worried about you. Ryan. The rest of the team," she whispered.

  "I understand." They all worried. About their loved ones, themselves, their comrades. He'd seen it on each and every face in the hospital room. While they put on a smile for Lark, he read the tension in their bodies, the stark fear that their loved ones would be in the line of fire next. Just because they were hardened warriors didn't mean they were fearless. No one with anything to lose could claim fearlessness. Yet, he didn't want to mention that fact to Tempest. It would only increase her anxiety tenfold. "You're afraid something will happen on this mission?"

 

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