Locked-Down Heart (Combat Hearts Book 3)

by Tarina Deaton

  Sprocket whined and jumped up on her lap, licking her chin.

  She opened her eyes and scratched her behind the ears. She glanced at Chris. His bright blue eyes were intense. They flicked to his right, toward the female agent and he dropped his gaze to the notepad in his hands.

  Right. The job. That’s why he was here. How could she forget?

  “Why didn’t you pull your gun?” the agent by the door asked.

  She’d told the cops who’d been waiting for them that she’d had a handgun stashed on the side of her seat. “I didn’t feel it was prudent to draw my weapon with the kids in the car.”

  “You have five handguns registered in your name,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t think that’s a bit many for a woman?”

  Oh hell no. “How many do you have?” she asked.

  “I have two.” He crossed his arms defensively and leaned against the door jamb.

  “Don’t you think that’s too few for a man?” she snarked.

  Phil snorted and then coughed into his hand. “Sorry. Allergies.”

  Denise found her first genuine smile that night. “What can I say? I’m an ammo-sexual who likes to exercise my Second Amendment rights.”

  The agent rolled his eyes and grimaced.

  “Eddie Perry,” Chris said.

  It was the first time he’d looked directly at her for more than a few seconds and she wished he’d just kept looking at his notepad. Two days ago, he’d had his face buried between her legs, making her promises, and now he treated her like a stranger. Objectively she understood what he was doing, not showing any emotion or hinting at any personal connection, especially in front of other agents, but she was so tired of it. Tired of being second. Tired of always being promised more, when there wasn’t any.

  “What about him?”

  “You think he was involved in this?”

  “After demanding to know where his kids are and the threats he made at the rescue, yes—he was involved in this. I don’t know if he was one of the guys on the bikes or if he was in the truck or if he was even there at all, but he was involved somehow. There is no reason for them to target me otherwise.”

  “I’m sure you’re aware of the FBI’s interest in the Southern Anarchists,” Phil said.

  “I am aware.”

  “We believe Eddie Perry is making a play to take over the Anarchists,” Chris said. “We’ve had several reports he’s trying to reconstitute the group under his leadership with intentions to branch out into guns, drugs, and human trafficking.”

  She didn’t respond. Partly because she couldn’t make herself care. What the Anarchists did wasn’t her problem. Keeping Eddie away from Kimber and Kaden was her problem and she wasn’t going to do anything to put them in the middle of a war between the FBI and the Anarchists. She waited, content to sit in the silence, knowing eventually someone would say something to fill the void. People tended to be uncomfortable with silence, especially after a statement had been made to elicit a response.

  They knew that. They’d had similar training to what she’d had, but with the exception of Chris they likely didn’t know her background. She’d sat for hours across from a detainee fighting a silent battle of wills. She’d never lost.

  “Jesus! Don’t you care?” the female agent asked.

  “No. I don’t,” she said. “Eddie Perry can rot in hell. I wish you all the luck in catching him and the rest of the Anarchists but, other than their threat to my kids, I don’t have shit to do with them.”

  “We’d like to put you and the children in a safe house,” Phil said.

  “No.”

  “Denise—”

  Denise leaned forward in the chair and braced her arms on the table. “I said no. These kids have had their lives disrupted enough in the past few weeks. They know nothing about their biological father and now I have to tell them the boogeyman exists. You want to put a detail on them, that’s fine. I’ll even give you access to the house if your true concern is their safety. But I’m going to keep their lives as normal as I possibly can.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. She’d take the kids and go off-grid if she needed to. She held Phil’s gaze, unwilling to give an inch.

  He sighed and nodded. “As you wish. We’ll assign a detail to watch your house and their school.”

  Denise nodded and leaned back in her seat. She needed to tell Graham so his guys would be aware there’d be a second team. “Is there anything else you need from me tonight? I need to get the kids home and in bed—they have school in the morning and it’s been a very long day for them.”

  “Your parents took them home about half an hour ago,” Phil said.

  Her chest tightened. She knew they were safe with her dad, but the idea of them being out there without her still sent a fissure of worry through her. Sprocket nuzzled her hand, lifting her palm with her snout.

  Standing, she gave Sprocket the command to block. The dog followed her from the interrogation room, keeping her rear protected. Not that she expected the agents to jump her, but she was still on edge from the attack earlier—hyperaware and hypersensitive to all the people moving around her. The tiny pinpricks of hurt feelings weren’t helping matters.

  Taking her phone from the small locker they’d asked her to leave it in, she turned it on and waited for it to boot up. Pulling up a hidden app, she checked to see if they’d messed with her phone. Not that she didn’t trust the FBI but…she didn’t trust the FBI. Either they hadn’t tampered with her phone or they used a program the app couldn’t detect. She’d hook it up to her laptop later and run a scan.

  Denise sensed Chris the moment he left the interrogation room. Their gazes locked. Finally, he showed some emotion, anger blazing from his eyes. From her refusal to help or her refusal to put the kids in a safe house, she didn’t know. She couldn’t work up the energy to care.

  Phil exited the room and stopped in front of her, handing her his card. “Just in case you need it. The safe house offer is good anytime you change your mind.”

  “Thanks.” She shoved the card in her back pocket and pivoted toward the exit. She had people to take care of at home.

  Chapter 19

  Denise pulled into the Walgreens parking lot and drove around to the back of the building. Leaving the engine running, she set the brake and took a small flashlight from the center console. She got out and scanned the area. Clicking on the flashlight, she dropped onto her hands and knees and shined the light under the front bumper. She repeated the process for the rear bumper and the wheel wells. Tucked into the rear passenger wheel well, she found what she was looking for.

  She pushed up from the ground and got back in her SUV, locking the doors. Sprocket hung her head between the seats as Denise examined the small device she’d found. The GPS tracker was about the size of a large key fob with three LED lights on the front. The middle yellow light was lit, possibly indicating that the battery was dying. She flipped it over, trying to find a power switch. Not finding one, she pulled out her knife from the console and flipped it open. She ran the edge along the seam of the small box, separating the two halves. Slipping the knife under the wires, she flicked the tip and detached the ends of the leads. She checked to make sure no light was showing and threw the pieces onto the passenger seat.

  Assholes had tagged her car.

  Denise released the brake and shifted into gear, heading to back to the house. She had to talk to her parents—they needed to decide on a course of action for protecting the kids. An FBI safe house might be the logical solution, but it didn’t feel like the right one and it would cut her off from her support network. She might be able to trust Chris, but she didn’t know his coworkers and, more than that, she needed her parents and Bree around her.

  Pulling in beside her dad’s extended-cab pickup, she shut off the engine and gathered up the pieces of the GPS. She let Sprocket out of the back and thumbed the lock on her doors out of habit. It wouldn’t stop anyone from breakin
g in, but that was no reason to make it easy on them.

  She unlocked the door and pushed it open with her shoulder. Sprocket glanced up at her and then made a beeline for the couch and Kimber and Kaden. They’d had a bath and were in their pajamas watching cartoons.

  No sooner had she thrown the dead bolt than Sprocket let out a short woof and looked at the door. A brief knock followed. She checked the peephole and opened the door for Chris.

  “What—”

  He grasped her face and kissed her. His mouth held an edge of desperation, as if he was trying to pour all his anger and worry into the kiss. She stiffened and pushed against his chest.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry.” He rested his forehead against hers. “It took everything I had not to do this when we walked into that room, but I can’t chance being taken off this case. There’s too much riding on it.”

  Her emotions clashed inside her like Titans battling for Olympus. Hope and defeat. Her heart screamed that he was apologizing, but her mind had kicked her feet up on the desk and was filing her fingernails, wondering so the fuck what.

  She wanted this and if she were honest with herself, she’d wanted it as soon as he’d walked into that interrogation room. Care. Comfort. Support. Someone to stand beside her and guard her back if she needed it. Someone who knew she could handle herself, but still worried enough that the first thing he did when he saw her was devour her in an effort to prove to himself she was safe. But what did she have to do before someone just supported her when she needed it instead of assuming she had things covered?

  Giggling reminded her they had an audience. “Now’s not the time to talk about this.”

  “Denise—”

  A throat cleared behind her. Chris raised his head and searched her gaze before turning to look at her father.

  “Son, I’m going to have to ask what your intentions are toward my daughter.” Her father stood with his hands on his hips, feet braced apart. She knew that stance. It was the one he’d taken when she was growing up and had to explain herself when she’d done something he thought she shouldn’t have.

  She forced a smile. “Why don’t you ask me what my intentions are toward him?” She tried to move back a step, but Chris kept his arm wrapped around her.

  Her father shifted his piercing gaze to her, not missing anything, and playing along anyway. “Good point. Denise, what are your intentions toward this young man?”

  Denise rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure I’m never sharing any of my intentions with you.”

  Kimber, now peeking over the back of the couch watching the show by the door, giggled again. “I told you he was her boyfriend.” Kaden scrunched his face up as if to say “ew, gross” and turned back around to watch the TV.

  “We did agree to go steady,” Chris said.

  “I agreed to go on a date,” she replied.

  He shrugged. “Same thing.” He released her, but kept one arm around her waist. “Sir, I intend on dating your daughter.”

  “Ha! Good luck with that.” Her father dropped his hands and went back into the kitchen, passing her mother on the way.

  Denise rubbed her eyebrow. How the hell had she gotten into this mess? More importantly, how could she get out of it without causing a scene?

  “Leave her alone, Frank.” Her mom smacked her dad on the stomach. “It’s good to see you again, Chris.”

  “You too, Mrs. Reynolds.” He released his hold on Denise’s waist.

  “Karen, please.” She wrapped her arms around Denise and hugged her tight.

  Denise closed her eyes and breathed in the muted scent of her mother’s perfume. She needed this. It brought back memories of sitting on her lap as a little girl, wishing her nails were long and elegant like her mom’s, and that she liked the things her mom liked. She’d never been that girly-girl and she’d always worried she disappointed her mom, right up until she was thirteen years old and she overheard her mom bragging to one of her friends about how she was the only girl to make the Little League team.

  Jeez, where had that come from? She needed some couch time with Dr. Tailor. Her whole sense of balance was out of whack.

  Her mom rubbed her back and let her go. “I saved you some dinner. It’s just spaghetti, but I wanted to make something quick the kids would eat.”

  “Did they eat already?” Denise asked.

  “Yes. I told them they could stay up a little longer and wait for you to come home.”

  “How are they doing?” She dropped her voice to barely a whisper.

  Her mom glanced at them. “They seem to be doing okay. They were worried about when you were going to be home,” she said in the same whisper.

  Denise nodded and glanced at the clock above the television. They were already thirty minutes past their bedtime. She needed to make sure they kept their normal schedule. Normal was important for all of them. “Alright, monkeys, pause your show if you want to save it. It’s time for bed.”

  “Can Grandma read stories with us tonight?” Kimber asked.

  “I want Aunt Denny to read to us,” Kaden said.

  She could see the fight brewing. “How about if you read to Grandma while I eat dinner and then I’ll read to you?”

  They looked at each other as if having a silent conversation. “Okay,” Kaden said.

  “All right. Teeth. Bathroom. Bed. Ready? Break.” Denise clapped her hands and the kids scrambled off the bed, racing each other to the bathroom.

  “We’re reading The Magic Tree House series,” she told her mom. “It’s on the table between their beds.”

  “Sarah loved that series.” Her mom’s eyes grew teary.

  Denise kissed her on the cheek. “I’m pretty sure they're the same books.”

  Her mom wiped a tear away and took a deep breath. Pivoting toward the bedrooms, she called out, “All right, kids, let’s check those teeth.”

  She smiled after her mom for a moment, before pulling herself back to reality. “Let’s go in the kitchen.”

  Chris stayed close behind her with his hand low on her back. Her dad leaned against the counter in front of the sink with his arms crossed. She went to him and he wrapped her in his arms. It was different than her the way her mom had, but it was just as comforting.

  “I liked it better when I didn’t know the shit you were getting into,” he said, gruffly.

  She huffed out a small laugh and raised her head from his chest. They’d never talked about what she’d done in Iraq or Afghanistan. He simply told her he was there if she needed to talk to someone who’d been there, too. She loved her dad, had been a daddy’s girl growing up, but there were some things she hadn’t been able to share with him.

  “How’d they find you?” he asked when she pulled back.

  “I wondered the same thing,” she said. “There was no way they should have known where we were going to be and I never spotted anyone following us. The trip to the new school was a spur of the moment decision and it’s not like I’m on a bowling league.” She pulled the disabled GPS from her jeans pocket and held it out in her palm. “Found this in one of the wheel wells.”

  Her dad took it from her and turned it over in his hands, examining it then passed it to Chris.

  She didn’t know what to make of her dad including Chris in the discussion. Because he was FBI or for other reasons?

  “How long do you think it’s been there?” her dad asked.

  “No idea. It didn’t even occur to me to sweep my car.”

  “It looks off-the-shelf. Battery probably wouldn’t last more than ten days—maybe a couple more if it wasn’t on all the time,” Chris said.

  “There was a yellow light lit when I found it.”

  “Probably indicates the amount of charge.” He tossed the device on the counter. “I think you should reconsider the safe house.”

  “I can’t cut myself off from parents or Bree, which I’d have to do going into a safe house.”

  “Cabin?” her dad asked.


  She shook her head. “Not unless we absolutely have to. Kaden and Kimber have been through enough already. I don’t want to disrupt their lives any more than necessary.”

  “You want me and your mom here at night?”

  Denise smiled at the image of her dad trying to get comfortable on Sarah’s Goodwill couch. “There’s no room for you here. The FBI is going to put surveillance on us, anyway.”

  “Denise, they probably know where you live. One team isn’t going to do much if they decide to raid this house.”

  True, but she also had Graham’s team. Since she wasn’t ready to share that information yet, she tried to reassure him. “I know. I’ll talk to Bree and see if we can move to her house sooner than we planned. The alarm system she had installed is state of the art. In that neighborhood, someone will call the cops if they see something out of the norm. Unlike here, where Eddie and his friends blend right in.”

  “You need to tell them about Eddie,” her dad said.

  “I know, but not tonight. Tomorrow after school, when we have time to explain and answer all their questions. I need you and Mom there with me.”

  “Whatever you need,” her dad promised.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “I’m proud of you, baby girl.”

  The backs of her eyes stung and she blinked to stop the tears from forming. She hadn’t been the easiest person to deal with when she’d gotten out of the Army and had put her parents through some serious shit. Cutting herself off from them had been easier than admitting she needed help. She’d come a long way since then and it meant a lot for her dad to say that.

  Afraid if she tried to say anything she’d choke on the tears sitting in the back of her throat, she nodded.

  “I’m gonna go say goodnight to the kiddos.” He kissed her on the forehead and patted her hip. “Let your mom know when you want us here.”