So that about concludes the most recent updates on the characters from the G-Man Series!
Wait! What???
Oops! Sorry - I nearly forgot about two key people: Easton and Darcy!
One of Sammie and Lindsey's current customers for their design business is Darcy! She is having a playroom designed for now two-year-old Weston. Along with that, she is having a brand new nursery designed and we're told everything is being done in soft shades of pink. Their little bundle of joy is due in early spring.
Easton's mother, Sophia passed away several months back. She is finally at peace now, and so is Easy-E, having found the unconditional love he had been denied for more than thirty years.
And they all lived happily ever after . . .
Author's Note: Readers wanted a glimpse of what went down after Slate took out the "Rat Bastard" in that New York City Park on the night of September 15th, after having located his captives being held in an old deserted warehouse.
Here is Slate's version.
The Aftermath - September 16th, 2:30 a.m.
~ Slate ~
It had been three fucking weeks since I'd been home with Sammie and the boys. The assignment in NYC seemed to have taken on a life of its own once we'd established the operation and had gone live. Of course, there were always going to be the intermittent issues with bad Intel, this one was no exception.
We were set to apprehend seven individuals we knew were smuggling weapons out of the country through way of Canada. Two of them happened to be on the FBI's most wanted list as being connected with Abu Sayeif, a terrorist organization with operational cells in several countries. This particular organization was known to provide arms to "unfriendly" nations. We'd been working with the Canadian authorities for three months prior to the field assignment. What we hadn't known or expected was that this operation was going to produce a bonus collar: Sammie's ex-husband, a.k.a. Jack Dennison, a.k.a. the "Rat Bastard."
It had been through Taz's brother, Easton and his apparent penchant for tracking his girlfriend, Darcy - who happened to be my step-daughter Lindsey's best friend that some not-yet-released track-ware brought us full circle with Jack Dennison. His newest cohort in crime happened to be his fucking mother. That's right. It was still unbelievable to me.
His trail had gone cold more than a year before, and to be honest, Dennison wasn't at the top or even in the middle of the FBI's most wanted. He was, however, at the top of mine. After what the mother-fucker had put Sammie and Lindsey through? Yeah, I wanted him. I wanted him bad.
I had gotten an adrenaline rush like no other when he came into my line of fire for that split second, and I made sure it wasn't wasted. That was only several hours ago but it seemed longer. Our agents had been perched on the rooftop of that building, waiting patiently for the opportunity to present itself.
The worthless mother-fucker had used his own daughter as a human shield. What the fuck? That made it totally up close and personal for me. I wanted - no, I needed to be the one to take him down. One perfectly executed shot from my 30mm SWAT Sniper Scope at long range was all it had taken to rid the planet of Jack Dennison, garbage that he was. This one was for Sammie. I was sorry that Lindsey had to witness his demise, but there was no other way.
Taz had insisted Lindsey get checked out by the medics, scared she might be in shock, and it was easy to see that she was. She'd be okay once the shock had worn off and she faced the reality of what her father had been. There was no better person to help her with that than Taz. He'd just completed his Ph.D., and would be joining the BAU after the first of the year. I'd miss the hell out of him, but it was a good move. He was living his dream. And Lindsey was a major part of that.
Now as I pulled my black, government-issued Suburban into our driveway, I knew I'd have to give Sammie the news. I had wondered on my flight back what her reaction would be. I'd only told her on our brief phone call that we'd wrapped things up in New York, and that I'd be home immediately. She'd teased me in her coy way, asking what my hurry was, and then started spazzing out before I even had a chance to respond about how she hadn't heard from Lindsey all day and she wasn't answering her cell.
I had assured her Lindsey was fine - which I knew she would be - and that she was spending time with Taz. At least that had calmed her down on that front.
Now she could put her focus on me. Where I wanted it, and hell, where I needed it. My cock would be a stranger no longer to her sweet warmth. My only trepidation was whether to tell her before or after we fucked. God, I hoped like hell she wouldn't get fucking emotional over the Rat Bastard's demise. I mean, how could she? He'd been such a fuckwad to her for all of those years. Still, women were forever surprising me with their abstract emotions and reactions. My Sammie was no exception.
I let myself into the house silently. I was good at that, occasionally causing Sammie to jump when I'd sneak up on her, planting a kiss on her neck, or groping her ass. I typed the pass code into our alarm system, shutting it off.
I headed down the hallway towards our room, hoping she wouldn't bitch too much about my waking her up. I smiled as I saw she'd left a night light on in our suite for me. Then I saw why.
Bryce was curled up next to her, his thumb in his mouth, sleeping soundly.
Don't think so little dude.
"Come on little man," I whispered, as I pulled his pajama clad body up into my arms. "Time to go to your own bed. What's bubby gonna say if he wakes up and you're not in your bed, huh?"
He opened his eyes briefly, a smile lighting up his face as he recognized me. He snuggled against my chest, putting his thumb back in his mouth, and was back to sleep by the time I pulled his covers up over him, tucking him into the "big-boy" bed we'd gotten him once Sidney had taken over his crib. I leaned down, giving him a kiss on his soft cheek.
I crept quietly over to Sidney's crib, checking to make sure he was covered up. He was clutching his stuffed skunk against his chest. Bryce had appropriately named it "Skunky" since he was the older brother and saw fit to run Sidney's life - for the moment. I leaned over the crib rail and gave my baby boy a kiss on his chubby cheek. Damn! I loved my babies. I had never imagined in a million fucking years that I could feel what I felt for them - and what I felt for Sammie.
Reflecting on my wife brought my cock to immediate attention. Shit. Three weeks.
Back in our room, I stripped my clothes off down to my boxers and crawled beneath the sheets, wrapping my arms around Sammie, drawing her against my chest.
"Slate," she murmured, her eyes fluttering open to gaze up at me. A slow smile graced her full lips as I fisted her hair, pulling her face closer to mine.
"Hey baby," I whispered, giving her soft kisses. "Told you I'd be home before breakfast. I'm thinking I might need a snack to tide me over though."
She came fully awake, straining to look for Bryce.
"Relax, babe. He's back in his bed sound asleep. By the way," I teased, "I thought we discussed this business of him being in our bed, didn't we?"
"Oh Eric," she laughed, "I don't make a habit of it. He crawled in during the night babbling about you. He knew you were coming home and he was excited, that's all." She curled up alongside of me, now running her fingertips over my triceps.
I knew I needed to let her know what happened before we got down to business. It was the right thing to do my horniness notwithstanding.
"What?" she asked, furrowing a brow.
Fuck. How should I put this?
I sat up in bed, looking into her eyes and seeing the fear that I was about to deliver bad news. Only it wasn't bad news. Not for me anyway.
"Sammie," I breathed, rubbing my forehead with my thumb. "You need to know that our investigation in New York led to an unexpected twist. Jack Dennison was remotely involved with the smugglers we were tracking. He surfaced while the sting was going down and . . ."
"Oh my God," she interrupted, pulling herself up and kneeling beside me on the bed. "Is he in jail? Does Lindsey know?"
&
nbsp; "He's dead," I said flatly. What the fuck else could I say?
"What?"
"He's dead, Samantha. He resisted law enforcement and posed imminent danger to others. He had a weapon drawn on officers and agents - he even . . ." I faltered, what the hell? Did she really need to know he used Lindsey as a human shield? Fuck yeah she needed to know!
"Look," I said, clasping her hands in mine. "He had Lindsey around the neck, dragging her along as a hostage thinking he could get away. That wasn't going to happen. I took him down, babe. I had no choice."
"My God, Lindsey!"
"She's fine, babe. I promise you, she's fine. Shook up, but Taz is with her and they'll be back tomorrow, okay?"
She nodded, turning the information I'd just given her over and over in her mind. I watched her expression closely because shit, I was curious to see if she had any sentiments left for the son-of-a-bitch after everything he had pulled. I saw nothing that resembled anything other her concern for her daughter.
"So," she said slowly, picking her words, "how did he get to Lindsey? I mean, I don't understand."
I rubbed her fingers with mine. "Apparently Lindsey's been keeping in touch with his mother, Louise. She had no clue that Jack and his mother were in contact. She only wanted some kind of connection with her father's family. That's how she explained it to Taz."
"Oh my God! Louise was involved too? But why did they involve Lindsey?" I watched as her puzzled expression morphed into one of understanding. "It was money, wasn't it? Oh God, Slate - Lindsey's not in any trouble, is she?"
"No, sweetie, don't worry about that. We're getting it all sorted out, but she didn't do anything illegal. I think Taz might have a thing or two to say about her keeping stuff from him, but she's safe and right now, she needs to be with Taz."
Sammie nodded, looking up into my eyes again.
"She'll be back tomorrow for sure?"
"Yeah, sweetie, I promise you, okay? I mean, she's upset for sure, but I also think she's dealing more with the realization of what her father was, you know? I grew up with a rat bastard father of my own, so I guess I can empathize with what she's going through. It's gonna take time, but she'll get closure; Taz will make sure of that."
"Okay," she murmured, crawling into my lap. I wrapped my arms around her.
"What about you, babe? Are you alright?"
I felt her hair as she nodded against me. "I am now," she replied softly, her arms now wrapped around my neck.
She lifted her face, looking into my eyes deeply making me feel like she was fucking looking into my soul. Sammie was the only person that could do that to me. She owned me and she probably knew it but that was okay because I fucking owned her, too.
"Thank you," she murmured softly. "Thank you for saving my daughter; and, thank you for saving me. I love you, Eric Slater."
"You can call me, Slate," I teased, kissing her forehead, and brushing a strand of her hair back behind her ear. She was so gorgeous and she was mine. Somehow Jack Dennison's death made that more official; I wasn't sure why.
She sighed audibly and snuggled closer against me, her fingers now caressing my jaw line that was rough stubble from going more than a day without shaving.
"Fuck me, Slate," she whispered hoarsely. "I need you to fuck me hard and long. I need to feel your cock inside of me."
"Umhmm," I whispered against the soft skin of her neck as my tongue leisurely traced the familiar territory. I felt her shiver with pleasure. "I'd be more than happy to oblige, Diamond."
Author's Note: Readers were interested in knowing how things went with Taz and Lindsey after her father was taken out by an FBI bullet, while using Lindsey as a human shield during his attempted escape from FBI agents in New York City.
Here is Lindsey's version.
The Aftermath of September 15th
~ Lindsey - One Year After ~
My life had become more settled over the past year. It hadn't been easy with what had happened that night in Mullaly Park, when I'd seen my father, inches from me, his one arm, still wrapped around my neck, shot down.
I shivered with cold chills and my mind played it back to me in slow-motion. The shot wasn't even loud as I recalled, but within seconds, I was pulled to the ground as my father fell, taking me down with him. I just remember screaming, thinking that it couldn't be happening, knowing that it was.
Taz was there beside me in seconds, scooping me out from underneath my father, and wrapping me tightly in his strong, comforting arms.
"It's okay, baby," he said, rocking me back and forth in his arms as he rested on his haunches. "Everything's going to be okay, Lindsey. I'm here and you're safe," he soothed, stroking my hair, and kissing the tears as they streamed down my face.
I recalled how I had struggled against him in his arms; crying and thrashing, and uttering things to him that I hadn't meant.
"Who shot him?" I screamed. "Did you shoot him, Taz? Tell me this fucking minute if it was you?" I had demanded an answer, refusing his comfort until I knew the truth. I wasn't sure at that moment if I could ever be with Taz again if he'd been the one to pull the trigger.
I recalled the other agents and New York City police officers who were now surrounding us, having caught up with Taz. One of them had checked my father for a pulse, but I knew he wouldn't find one. The sharp-shooter that had fired the shot had made damn sure of that.
Taz had placed his fingers under my chin and roughly tilted my face upward so that green eyes met green eyes. His were flashing with something - not full anger, but little compassion was evident. I tried to turn away.
"Listen to me," he growled, his fingers squeezing a bit tighter, not allowing me to look away. "I fucking love you, Lindsey! I fucking love you with every piece of me, not just my heart, but every fiber of my being is fucking devoted to you! Do you even understand that? Do you?"
I'd never seen my Taz like this - ever. I was scared, but I was also mesmerized momentarily by the passion and the force of his words as they touched me and spread like torched gasoline throughout my being, touching every fiber in me with their intensity, and warming me with his love and devotion.
I had nodded, not daring to look away as he continued, tears building up in his own eyes now. He tried to shake them away, tilting his head upward towards the stars that were now coming out full force, trying to allow the cool, evening air to dry them.
"Yes, Taz," I whispered softly. "I do understand."
He abruptly looked back down, into my eyes, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his FBI field jacket.
"I'm not sure you do," he replied calmly. "Because if you did, you would've never put yourself at that kind of risk again. Déjà vu all fucking over again, babe."
Those words coming from him totally unraveled me. They were meant to hit home and by God, they had.
"God, baby," I breathed, wrapping my arms tightly around his strong neck and pulling him closer with every bit of strength I could muster. "I'm so sorry. I love you so much, Taz. I'm so fucking sorry, baby. Please don't be mad at me, please?"
He held me tightly, lifting me in his arms as he stood up and carried me away from my father's body.
I had buried my face in his neck, telling him over and over again how much I loved him and how sorry I was to hurt him like that. My voice was getting hoarse with each word but I couldn't say it enough because it was the truth and because he'd been right. Taz's love for me surpassed anything in this world. That included parental love.
I had realized it right then and there. Seeing the pain and sadness in his eyes had torn into my heart like a dagger. It was then I had vowed never again to do anything that might bring pain and sorrow to him again. My Taz . . .
The chapter that follows this page has been termed the "Fake" chapter for a reason. The reason is that it was never intended to be part of "Love Plus One."
You see, here's what happened:
I was going along, writing "Love Plus One" and then one day I got what is typically known as a case of 'Writ
er's Block.' It's fairly common; and usually just a temporary (and hopefully very brief) condition, where the author just doesn't have the rest of the story flowing in his or her head, on paper, or on the laptop.
So, I did what I normally do and took a break from the writing until I could feel the creative juices flowing once again. This writer's block occurred around the time in the book where Samantha is having a problematic pregnancy, and I just wasn't sure where I wanted to take that sub-plot. I considered several various scenarios and decided I'd just sleep on it for a while until something came to me.
During this time, one of my beta readers was growing impatient for me to feed her more of the storyline for Love Plus One. I kept telling her to be patient because I was dealing with this writer's block thing, and as soon as I felt creative again, she'd get more pages to read.
So one day, she nags me again for more of the story, complaining she'll have to start back at the beginning in order to be able to pick back up on the story since it had been so long. (It was like a week . . . Pffft!)
I decided I'd sit down and type up the next chapter of Love Plus One, determined to make it a chapter that would totally, fucking blow her mind. And I did.
She phoned me immediately after reading it, cussing at me and telling me that I had just ruined the book as far as she was concerned. I let her blow off steam and then calmly told her it was a fake chapter . . . just a practical joke.
She very calmly told me that if I had time to waste on fake chapters, then I needed to get my ass in gear and start writing real chapters and finish the book!
Whatever!
The good news was that writing it did get my creative juices flowing once again. So, I was able to pick up where I had left off and finish writing the book.
G-Men Holiday Wrap (G-Man) Page 8
