Strike (Tortured Heroes Book 4)

by Jayne Blue

  My pulse skipped, short-circuiting as heat flooded through me. My breath left me and my legs trembled. Trouble with a capital T, this man. Just that subtle closeness left me wet for him. I wanted him. Hell, I craved him. He knew it. He must have seen it in my eyes or the way my color likely changed. Smirking, he leaned back and draped his arm over the chair next to him.

  “So why Lincolnshire?” he asked.

  I ran my finger around the rim of my empty glass. I regretted telling the waitress I didn’t need a refill. My throat went dry at the suggestion in Ben’s eyes.

  “Nope. No way,” I said. “It’s your turn, SWAT boy.”

  He pursed his lips and nodded, accepting my challenge. “Charlotte Marek, the Polish Catholic girl. Hmm. Well, you worry too much about what people think so my guess is you’re either an oldest child or an only child.”

  “Good start, Detective.”

  “Officer,” he answered. “I work for a living.”

  “Ouch.”

  “And you’ve got that look about you. That kind of uptight, over-educated, always-in-control, teacher’s-pet thing. Now, don’t get me wrong. I like it. I think I’ve shown you exactly how much. So, I’m thinking lawyer. But not like Silverhorn. It’s got to be corporate or some shit.”

  I hissed and shook my head. “Oh. So close.”

  “Investment banker?”

  Laughing, I waved my hands. “The kick is no good. I’m an accountant. I just got hired at Victory Tech.”

  Ben slapped his hand over his heart. “Oh, come on. You gotta give me some points for that.”

  Shrugging, I held up two fingers. Ben leaned in again and closed a hand around those fingers and pulled them closer to him, making me lean far forward. His hot breath caressed my cheek. Arousal thrummed through me.

  “Charlotte, the accountant. I was gonna guess librarian next. But I think this is even sexier. So that’s who you were with the other night at the bar, that group of golf shirts? That was the rest of the accounting department?”

  “Mmm hmm. We were celebrating my second full week.”

  “Sexy as hell, Charlotte.” Before I could stop him, Ben pressed my fingers to his lips. Desire zinged through me, heading straight for my sex. I could barely breathe as my need to kiss him—to be kissed by him—nearly overpowered me. But I found the strength to pull away. Ben straightened. I saw a tremor go through him, and a vein jumped near his jaw. He seemed very close to coming unglued himself.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, though my voice sounded so far away. “But I don’t do cops.”

  Ben’s devastating smile melted me. “Smart girl,” he answered. The mischief went back into his eyes. “And I suppose I can’t do the boss’s daughter.”

  “Right.” Even as I said it, I wanted desperately to let him do me again. If I were being honest with myself, I’d thought of little else since that night.

  “Thank you for lunch,” I said. My mouth went dry and my whole body sagged a little like a deflating balloon. Reality sank in for the both of us. “I really need to go.”

  Ben Killian had the hint of the devil playing behind his eyes, but he gave me a tight-lipped nod. “I’ll see you around, Charlotte.”

  I rose. I gave a polite smile to the waitress and waved. What I wanted to say was, I hope so. “Can you get back on your own?”

  He winked and gave me a slow nod. “Oh, I always land on my feet.”

  I don’t know what made me do it, but I reached for him and hooked my fingers beneath his chin. I had the sense that Ben had shared something with me today whether he meant to or not. It was something intimate and caused him pain. Mama Margaret’s lost boy. I felt a shudder go through him, but he didn’t pull away.

  “Take care of yourself, Officer Killian. I don’t want to see you on the news.”

  He turned, catching my fingers against his lips. His kiss was quick and chaste. Even so, heat poured through me and made my knees weak all over again. How I found the strength to turn and head for the door I’ll never know. Part of me hoped—no, prayed—that he’d come after me. But he didn’t.

  “See you around, Charlotte,” he said. His voice and the echo of his kiss lingered as I walked outside and light rain splattered my shoes.

  Chapter Eight

  Ben

  Everything went wrong. I’m not, by nature, the superstitious type. But sometimes when the universe is trying to tell you something, you’d be an idiot not to listen. Today, I was that idiot.

  First, Brett called in sick. I couldn’t blame him. He’d been pushing it all week and fighting off a nasty respiratory bug. Hell, I was the one that insisted he go home the day before because the dumbass had a fever. Now I could feel the first tingling ache in the back of my throat and knew I could probably expect to get walloped in the next twenty-four hours.

  When Lieutenant Bates came down and told me the Task Force wanted to jump on the Fletcher house, that should have been my second warning that shit might go sideways.

  “Shit,” I said. “We’re light today, you know that.”

  Bates nodded. “It ain’t ideal but they’ve had to jump their timetable. One of their informants says the dirtbags are about to move their product. Tomorrow will be too late. The warrant just came down.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I get it. Then we better get it over with. We lose more daylight, we lose our chance.”

  Bates tapped his knuckles on my desk. “Afterwards, you’re coming with me to meet with the new chief.”

  This stopped me short. The way Bates said it, it sounded like he’d just asked me to bend over for a rectal exam.

  “Is this more dancing-monkey shit?” Chief Marek was meeting with all of the departments one by one. This shit happened during every change in upper command. Every time we had to justify our existence and the way we operated. Each time, it came down to wanting to fix shit that wasn’t broken.

  “You need to wait until Davis gets back. You don’t want me in there with you. I’m liable to say what I think.”

  Davis laughed. “That’s kind of the idea. The new guy says he wants to hear it. From all of us.”

  I gave Tim a sideways look. “Sure. Right. Just like the rest of them. Look, can we do us both a favor and you handle this one solo? You take me in there and you’re not going to like it. He’s not going to like it. You know I’m no diplomat.”

  “You might like the guy,” Tim said. “He’s actually a real cop.”

  Sure, that was a plus. A big one. But Frank Marek was also an outsider. There’s Lincolnshire, and there’s everywhere else. It chafed a lot of the guys, including me, that Mayor Jordan hired from the outside when we had a crop of worthy candidates in house.

  Tim put a heavy arm around my shoulder. “Well, he asked for you special, so there’s that.”

  My throat went dry and an anvil settled in my chest. Other than our brief handshake at the swearing-in reception, I’d only seen the man in passing on the elevator. Surely I hadn’t made enough of an impression that he’d remember. It had actually been my goal to avoid it. So that meant either someone else was talking about me or Chief Marek knew something he shouldn’t.

  It had been a week since my lunch with Charlotte. About a dozen times since then, I’d wanted to call her. I’d even tried to think up ways to put myself near Kingston Boulevard on the off chance I might run into her again. But I knew I was pushing the envelope of discretion. Brett hadn’t pressed me for more details after our night in the bar. Breakroom gossip never materialized. Even Sheila kept her mouth shut after I rode off with Charlotte the other day. There was no way any of those guys would have said something to the chief about me. So that left Charlotte herself. Surely she hadn’t said anything, so I wondered what gave. My strongest instinct screamed inside of me to stay off Chief Marek’s radar, no matter what.

  “You asking me or telling me?” I said to Bates. He screwed up his face and let out a hard breath.

  “I’m asking you.”

  “Hmm. Well, why don’t you fly solo? Brett
will be back tomorrow or the day after. If you need another body in the chief’s office, he’s the one. You know I’ve got shit for a poker face.”

  Bates smiled broadly and patted his back pocket where he kept his wallet. “Hell, yeah, I do. Thank you very much.”

  I flipped him off and grabbed my Kevlar vest off the hook on the wall. “See you in an hour,” I said.

  It should have been in and out. The whole thing should have taken no more than an hour from the time we left the office to the time we got back. Two of the detectives got caught in construction on I-475 coming over. So we had to hold up four blocks over and wait. Rackham and Jefferson got jumpy and that didn’t help my mood. Ed and Nick got into position on either side of the front door. I took a spot two feet behind Nick.

  When we got the all clear from the second unit, Rackham and Jefferson took the lead. It would have been Brett and me. The feel was off from the second Nick shouted “Police” and we rammed the front door. It didn’t open the way it should. It flew back then slammed shut. Ed dropped low and pushed the thing open a second time.

  We heard a scuffle down the hallway and breaking glass. I had a team set up behind the house. Whoever busted that bedroom window wouldn’t get far. They’d be penned in by the fence with four other Strike Team members drawing down on them.

  Sure enough, I heard shouts from the backyard. We’d seen three people go into the house this morning. The neighbor confirmed it. Luke Haskell from B unit chirped in my ear. They had the runner secured. That left two for us.

  Ed went left down the hallway. I motioned behind me. Three of the other officers would follow him while Nick and I took a team upstairs. The Drug Task Force guys hung back in the surveillance van down the street.

  Ed got two steps up when a flash of gunfire caught my eye at the top of the stairs. He dropped low and pressed his back against the wall.

  “Shots fired! Shots fired!”

  My vision tunneled. The stairway elongated and my arms became weightless. I don’t know if my feet touched the ground. I couldn’t feel them. Adrenaline coursed through me, making my skin tingle.

  The Rush hit me full on as I raised my weapon. An arm appeared at the top of the banister and I didn’t wait. You can never wait.

  I took the shot.

  Red sprayed, splattering the wall at the top of the stairs.

  “Mother fucker!” he screamed. I heard a thunk as he dropped his weapon. It fell down two steps and came to rest against the wall.

  Nick did the yelling, telling the guy to put his hands where he could see them.

  “You shot it, asshole!” he screamed.

  I pushed past Nick. He shouted something at me but I couldn’t make out the words. The scumbag lay sprawled on the carpet, head toward me and his feet half up the wall. Blood poured out of the wound to his wrist and snot dripped from his nose. He begged for his life.

  I pressed a foot to his arm, well above the wound. He squealed but didn’t move. Nick came behind me. He moved deeper into the hallway, taking a position toward the scumbag’s feet. I don’t know why he did it. I don’t know who came up behind me, but they went left toward Nick, instead of right.

  I shouted something. I think I told the officer to check the back bedrooms. Blood pounded in my veins and the echo of my shot still cracked in my ears. At least, that’s what I thought it was.

  I felt air at the back of my neck. Instinct took over. Nick shouted. The other officer did too. I dodged and lost my footing. As I tumbled end over end down the stairs, I saw the thing that whizzed past my ear. It was a red stiletto with a silver heel. The scumbag’s girlfriend howled as Nick dropped her. I saw a flash of that too just before my back hit the last step, cracked, and exploded in pain.

  “You’re lucky, you asshole,” Nick said. His face floated above mine. I could have driven a truck through his gap-toothed grin.

  The squeak of rubber soles on hard tile floor reached the fog of my mind with the pitch and clarity of a gunshot. I just wanted to go back to sleep.

  “Oh no, you don’t, Detective,” a feminine, gravelly voice grated against my ear. She had a firm hand on my upper arm and she squeezed a blood pressure cuff around my arm.

  “Officer,” I croaked. God, my throat ripped open from the effort. “I work for a living.”

  “Not today, you don’t,” she said. “Open your eyes.”

  When I did, she rewarded me by shining a blinding penlight into them.

  “Where does it hurt?”

  I tried to lift my head and instantly regretted it. I sank back into the pillow and tried fluttering my lids open again. Nick Jefferson and Ed Rackham stood at the end of my bed. Ed gave me a lopsided smile and waved his fingers at me.

  “How many am I holding?” he asked. I lifted my middle finger in answer.

  “He’s coming around,” the nurse said. “Don’t get him too excited.” She gave me a firm pat on the shoulder and snapped a privacy curtain closed, leaving me alone with Ed and Nick.

  “I’m in hell,” I said. “That’s it. I’ve died and gone to hell.”

  Ed let out a nervous laugh and came closer. “Not quite. You just smashed your head against the wall hard enough to knock yourself out. What do you remember?”

  I coughed and my head split with pain. “A shoe. Goddammit.”

  “Yep,” Nick answered. “Thank God she didn’t hit you with that fucking thing. The doc already examined you. Looks like the worst you’ve got is a goose egg and a pulled muscle in your back. You’ve got a concussion, buddy.”

  I tried to answer but cotton filled my head. The lines on the white tile ceiling wavered and my stomach churned. Time seemed to warp. Ed was on one side of the bed and now he was on the other. I think.

  Then I was alone. I heard the nurse talking again. There was some kind of commotion outside. I just wanted to sleep.

  My eyes snapped open. Through the fog I recognized Charlotte’s voice. That’s when I thought I might really be in deep shit. But she was there. Impossibly, she was there. Nick peeled back the privacy curtain and nudged her forward.

  I ignored the pounding of my head and sat bolt upright and regretted it instantly. She gave me a weak wave and got closer to the bed. God, she smelled good. Her perfume cut through the sterile hospital smell and I reached for her.

  “Hey, Charlie.” I think I said some other things. I can’t remember what. But her face fell and a blush colored her cheeks. Shit. I liked her that way. Ed and Nick were there again and the nurse stood to the side laughing. Some back corner of my brain screamed out that there was something decidedly fucked up about this whole arrangement but I was too damn tired to care. I closed my eyes again. Maybe I dreamt the whole thing after all.

  But I didn’t.

  When I opened my eyes again, Charlotte was standing there, her flinty gray eyes widened with fear. I noticed tiny details about her. She wore her hair back, twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck. Little curling wisps sprang free near her temple and I reached for one of them. She gasped when I touched her, but didn’t pull away. She wore a black suit with a blue blouse and three buttons opened at the collar. A pulse throbbed in her long, slender throat and I ran my thumb along the curve of her jaw. She parted her lips and gasped.

  I remember orders barked and a scuffle on the other side of the privacy curtain. My throat felt raw from shouting. It seemed every time I opened and closed my eyes, different people stood in front of me. First Nick and Ed, then the nurse, then Charlotte again.

  “It’s okay,” Charlotte said. She whispered it but her voice had a hard edge. She was standing at the end of the bed. Nick and Ed stood to the side, both looking at their shoes. Ed shot a furtive glance toward me and gave me a wave. Something was up.

  The next thing I knew I was moving. The hospital hallway whizzed by and the nurse’s squeaky shoes echoed. Charlotte’s heels clacked as she nearly ran to keep up. Then the elevator doors opened and a cold blast of air hit me in the face. I looked back, wondering what happened to Ed a
nd Nick. Only Charlotte stayed with me. She hooked her arm around my waist and walked with me. My head still spinning, I let her lead me down the aisle until we got to her little red Honda. She buckled me in the passenger seat then got behind the wheel.

  My head started to clear as she pulled out of the parking garage. It was full dark and her headlights illuminated the exit sign toward the highway.

  “Hey, Charlotte,” I said. “Where are we going?”

  She gripped the steering wheel with both hands then turned to look at me before she merged with traffic.

  “I’m taking you home, remember? And don’t look at me like that. If you hadn’t almost died today there’s a good chance I’d kill you myself.”

  Chapter Nine

  Charlotte

  Two Hours Earlier ...

  “Officer down!”

  My heart turned to ash as those words squawked through the police scanner I kept at my desk. I hadn’t listened to one since I was a little girl and we kept one at home. That was long ago before my mother left my dad. Actually, it was her habit. She just didn’t realize I listened too. Now, ever since I’d come to Lincolnshire with him, I found myself listening more and more. I don’t know what I expected to hear. As chief, my father was so removed from the day-to-day patrols now that I wasn’t worried about his safety. Somehow though, the thing just comforted me.

  Until now.

  I don’t know why I knew it was something bad; I just did. I wanted to call Dad, just to hear his voice. I knew he’d tell me not to worry. The choppy dialogue between the dispatcher and the other units didn’t reveal much. This kind of thing might happen more than once a day in a big city like Chicago. But here, in Lincolnshire, it would make the evening news. Which meant my father would have to get involved.

  When I did call him, I was already in my car, headed for home. I think maybe fate stepped in that day because St. Steven’s Hospital on Brooks Drive was only two blocks away when I got stopped at a red light.