Rising (Anderson Special Ops Book 2)

by Melody Anne

  Chad’s expression fell a little and Joseph didn’t want to hear what he had to say. But he wouldn’t bury his head in the sand. “Joseph, remember in the beginning when I told you there’d be people you probably know caught up in this circle. There’d be people involved that could even shock you.”

  Joseph nodded, his throat tight.

  “It wasn’t Katherine’s attacker, and I’m not sure how to tell you. Rip off the Band-Aid has always been my philosophy, but I’ve never been in a situation like this.”

  “I agree, just say it,” Joseph said as he leaned forward.

  “Brackish has been doing a lot of investigating not only in the past few days, but in the past few months. He’s been running non-stop, looking down all the holes he can to find where drugs might be showing up. The run he did last night was for bank accounts that had deposits with at least a million dollars in red-flag type of deposits in the last ninety days. It was a bit surprising how many people in the Seattle metro area hit that amount under those circumstances,” Chad said, giving a long pause, turning a single piece of paper over in his hand again and again.

  “Spit it out, Chad,” Joseph growled.

  With an exhausted sigh, Chad opened the paper, laid it flat, and slowly slid it over to Joseph.

  Joseph quickly slapped his hand on the paper, pulled it to him and saw a long list of names, with one highlighted approximately three quarters of the way down. Joseph’s heart stopped for a second, before it thundered. Never would he have thought he’d hear that name mixed up in all of this mess. It was one of his own. It was one he’d worked hard to help. It was one he’d thought had character and integrity. But there was the name, not to be mistaken.

  “How?” Joseph said.

  “This isn’t a confirmed list of guilty people. This is just a list of suspects,” Chad reminded Joseph. His words didn’t help how he was feeling. He looked at the list again and sighed as the name flashed at him like a neon sign.

  Damien Whitfield.

  “This can’t be right,” Joseph finally said. “He can’t be involved in this.”

  “I’m sorry, Joseph, but it is Damien. Brackish verified it’s our Damien. We don’t yet know that that means.”

  Joseph felt numb as he looked at the highlighted name again. The words blurred before his eyes. His heart was already broken. This might permanently destroy it. He’d never guessed when Chad had given him that warning that some of the players might be his actual family, that some names might be a person he was so close to — one of his nephews. Even if Damien hadn’t grown up in the family, he was a good man with a good wife. It couldn’t be him.

  There were a thousand questions going through Joseph’s mind, but he only asked one. “What do we do next?”

  “We still have a ton to do, Joseph. I didn’t tell Brackish I knew any of the names on this list. He handed it over and went back to work. Once we’re done here I’m going back to the office and I’ll have him do a pointed dive into Damien’s information to see if Damien is attached to anyone in this ring we’ve confirmed as players.”

  “Then find them all,” Joseph said, his voice cold.

  “We’re on it. I have no doubt Brackish will have everything hacked from cell phones to email accounts and anything in between. We’ll find all of the players.”

  “I hate not having more information,” Joseph said, his good mood long gone.

  Chad smiled. “That’s why I like to end the meeting on a good note.”

  “What can possibly be good after all of this?” Joseph asked with a scowl.

  “Love,” Chad said simply. “Back to Erin and Brackish. Erin is the niece of Jack.” He stopped as Joseph’s scowl deepened. “Calm down. She has zero contact with her sleazeball uncle. We’ve given her a background check that shames even the ones given to the Secret Service agents closest to the president.”

  “How did he meet her?” Joseph asked as his scowl softened. He was trying to pull himself from his dark mood, and love stories was about the only thing that had half a chance of doing that.

  “She works in, and owns, a local diner that used to belong to her grandparents. The team was unwinding and doing a bit of recon. They weren’t expecting one of them to fall for the girl, but I had a feeling some sparks might fly when I sent them there.”

  Those words managed to pull the rest of the frown from Joseph’s forehead. Chad was correct, he truly did love the world of love and romance. He didn’t believe Damien was involved in this world, anyway. It couldn’t be true. They’d get to the bottom of it and clear his name. Joseph was sure of that. He ignored the pang in his chest that clearly spoke of Damien’s odd behavior the past couple of years. That was simply growing pains.

  “Tell me more,” he said as he rose and grabbed Chad’s cup so he could give them each a refill — this time adding a bit more buttered rum. They could both use it.

  “Erin dropped out of college to help her grandparents on her mother’s side because they were ill. They owned the diner. She stepped up at first because it had been her grandmother’s dream, but when they passed, she worked harder, wanting to keep that piece of them with her. She never went back to school. Maybe it was punishment for not getting there sooner, we don’t know. Because she’d been a straight A student and was on track to becoming an advertising exec. She did a lot of volunteer work, had a perfect SAT score, and was the student body president of her small college. In other words, she’s a literal genius who’s completely lost her way.”

  “Okay, I’m intrigued,” Joseph admitted. He knew where his dinner was going to be in the very near future.

  “I hear Brackish’s first date with her is at an art studio, which I find amusing. Brackish doesn’t seem to be an artsy sort of guy, but you never know.”

  “Where at?” Joseph asked, sitting up higher, his hands clasped on his desk as he leaned forward. “I’ll call and give them an exclusive experience, really allowing Brackish to give her the luxury treatment.”

  “I think Brackish has this,” Chad said with a laugh.

  “Everyone can use a little help,” Joseph said with a glare. “You sure as hell needed some, in case you’ve forgotten.” Joseph’s glare turned into a smug smile.

  Chad rolled his eyes. He’d never admit he’d needed help wooing his wife, but Joseph knew the truth. “I heard the men talking, and I believe Brackish is planning another date to hike up Mount Rainer.”

  “Brackish is a big man. Think he can hike the mountain?” Joseph asked with another wicked smile. He was wondering what he could do on that mountain for the two of them. He truly did love to meddle in the lives of young lovers, and with so much darkness surrounding him for so long, he needed a lighter focus to draw his attention to.

  “You know as well as I do that Brackish has been through hell and back. That man could hike the Sahara Desert with a smile on his face. All of these men could.”

  “Yeah, but I still like flicking some crap at them,” Joseph said. “There’s nothing like a hit to a man’s ego to keep him motivated.”

  “That’s very true, my friend,” Chad said.

  Joseph rose, and Chad joined him. “I need to stretch,” Joseph said. “I’ve been sitting for too long, and I want to check on my wife.”

  “I’ll keep you updated as we move ahead, but I believe we’re in a really good place,” Chad said as they exited the office.

  The two men made small talk as they wove their way through the halls of Joseph’s enormous castle. Then they shook hands before Chad slipped away. Joseph had a smile on his face as his feet picked up speed. It had been too many hours since he’d seen Katherine and simply moving forward closer to him, cheered him up immensely. He wouldn’t live without her.

  He did believe in love — and it was all because of the woman he’d been lucky enough to marry. He wanted the world to have what he had with his beautiful wife. And he’d do his best to give it to those he cared about — whether they wanted his help or not wasn’t relevant. In the end they did
appreciate all he did for them, even if they didn’t know it.

  Chapter Three

  There was a time to play and a time to fight. For every high there had to be a low. For every triumph, there was a loss. That was life — that was evolution. In order for someone to be crowned a victor, someone else had to be deemed a loser. Some felt that was unfair; everyone should be crowned a winner. But that wasn’t reality.

  The five men sitting in a small diner in the middle of nowhere had never known what it was like to lose. Yes, they’d lost men, and that hurt beyond what they could talk about to most people, but they fought until they won. They could all testify that not every mission was a success, but that didn’t count as failure, that just counted as one giant ass pothole. In the end they were victorious — no matter what it took.

  “Hey, Smoke,” Green said with a sly smile that had Brackish rolling his eyes.

  “Yes, Green?” Smoke asked, batting his eyes dramatically.

  “Why do you think we came back to this diner?” Green asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe because the food is soooo good,” Smoke said.

  “Maybe,” Green said before looking over at the counter where one very pretty waitress was pouring coffee. “Or maybe it’s the ambiance.”

  “Hmm, I think it could be the ambiance,” Sleep jumped in. “This place feels cozy and warm.”

  “Yeah, it sure does give you that down-home tingly feeling,” Eyes said.

  “No one finds any of you in the least bit funny,” Brackish said.

  “I don’t know about that. I think I’m pretty damn funny,” Smoke said as he leaned back. “I make people laugh.”

  “Maybe at your face,” Brackish told him.

  “I can make people laugh at your face,” Smoke said as he flexed his massive bicep.

  “Oh, Smoke, you’re such a dream,” Sleep said in a high-pitched voice as he swooned.

  “Shut up. Erin’s coming over,” Brackish hissed. “Try for a single second in your lives to act like men instead of little boys.”

  “Impossible,” Sleep said with a laugh.

  All five men turned as Erin stepped up to their table. Her cheeks instantly flushed as she looked at her notepad. When she glanced up again, she had eyes for only one of them — and it pleased Brackish a lot to see it was him.

  “Hello again,” Erin said. “Did you guys come to clean out my kitchen one more time?” Of course, she was referring to their last visit when they’d consumed an entire loaf of bread, along with enough eggs, bacon, hash browns, and gravy to feed an entire family reunion.

  “The food is good, Erin, but . . .” Sleep stopped and gave a wicked grin to Brackish.

  “Stop,” Brackish said, murder in his eyes for his friend.

  There were a few seconds of silence as the men spoke without words. Then Erin shocked the heck out of Brackish, as well as the other men, when she gave a flirty smile, brushed her hair back, placed a hand on her hip, and spoke.

  “Come on, Ben,” she said, using the name he’d given her as an alias, “what are you trying to keep your buddy from saying? Do sticks and stones really hurt more than words?”

  “Ha,” Eyes said as he laughed, the other men joining him. “You tell him, Erin. He’s such a baby sometimes.”

  “Really?” Brackish asked with another glare before turning back to Erin. “I’m just trying to protect you from these heathens. You never know what will come out of their mouths.”

  “I can handle men. I’ve been dealing with all sorts of personalities my entire life,” she said, not fazed at all. Brackish’s heart skipped a beat at her words. He wanted to know exactly how she handled men, that was for damn sure. She gave him another smile then set down menus. “I’ll give you boys some time.” She turned and walked away. Brackish enjoyed the view.

  Silence greeted her departure. It wasn’t rare for them to sit for hours without saying a word. They could do it for days if need be. But it was rare they were silenced by a spitfire woman who was managing to charm each one of them — Brackish most of all.

  Green broke their stupor. “Well, she can flip my eggs any day of the week.”

  Brackish’s head whipped around as he glared at Green. All of them burst out laughing. Life was full of crazy. It was nice to have friends who would not only have your back at the expense of their own life, but who were also willing to run you over for their own amusement.

  “She’s not flipping anyone’s eggs but mine,” Brackish said. He was certainly marking his territory and each of the men nodded, understanding this was Brackish’s woman — if she chose to accept. They might flirt, they might goad, and they might make him uncomfortable, but they’d never betray trust by going after a woman one of them liked.

  Eyes began talking about food when the door of the café swung open, bringing in the cold midnight air, and sending a shiver down Brackish’s spine. Without looking up, he knew trouble was walking in the door.

  “Heads up,” Brackish whispered.

  That was all it took for the other four men at the table to turn from jovial friends to combat-ready veterans. They all shifted as five men stepped through the front door. They quickly recognized the man in the lead.

  It took a second to assess the situation. The lead man was the one they’d asked to never come back to the diner the month before. He was just as drunk now as he’d been that night. The others wore cocky grins. One of them had a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand, two held blunt objects, another held electrical conduit. Each man was red-eyed and drunk . . . very drunk.

  “Hey lover boy, I’m back. I’ve been waiting for you to show your face again. I told you I was gonna get a turn with the pretty waitress. I’m here to take it,” the drunk yelled out.

  The diner only had four other tables that were occupied. Smoke looked at the people cowering in their seats in obvious fear. They knew how bad these kinds of situations could turn.

  Erin stepped from the kitchen, her face going white as she looked at the men who had malice written on their drunken faces. The lead drunk turned and flashed her a smile before grabbing himself.

  “Don’t worry, baby doll, I’ll take care of your boyfriend over there, and then I’m going to show you a real good time. My friends might even want to have a taste when I’m done.”

  She gasped as she staggered back. Brackish stood, as did the other four men at his table. He didn’t take his eyes away from the drunk leading his ridiculous gang.

  “I’ve got this. You take care of the people in here in case in some alternate world, one of these idiots gets around me.”

  “Are you showing off for the girl?” Eyes asked. There was a slight grin on his lips, showing he wasn’t at all worried about the losers in the diner, but his humor didn’t negate his readiness for action. Even idiots could get in a lucky shot once in a while.

  “Nope, just not going to let anyone talk to my woman that way,” Brackish said. He’d have to think about the fact he was referring to her as his woman later. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting to come out of his mouth.

  “Yep. Totally get it,” Eyes said. The joking had ended.

  Brackish was the least combat trained of his team since he was the tech guru, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to fight. And beyond that, these men before him had zero training. They relied on brute force and intimidation with numbers. Brackish was smart and fast — not Smoke fast, but fast, nonetheless.

  “Have you guys been waiting for us to return?” Brackish asked. Who waited a month for a fight? Well, he and his team would, but not for something like this.

  “I live in the trailer park across the street over there and we’ve been keeping an eye on things,” the idiot said as if he was proud of his commitment.

  This diner was off the freeway about forty miles from Seattle. All that was in this location was a truck stop gas station and an RV park that had seen better days. Of course this man lived nearby. Brackish was grateful he hadn’t returned until now when Brackish was th
ere to protect Erin. The man wanted to think he was getting one up on Brackish who’d humiliated him.

  “Please leave this diner. I don’t want any problems,” Erin said as she took a step forward, trying to calm the situation. Brackish was more than impressed with her backbone. He also wanted to throw her over his shoulder and haul her away from danger.

  “We’re not going anywhere without you,” the drunk replied. She glared at him as she took another step forward. Brackish gave Smoke a look. That’s all it took for Smoke to step away from the group and move over to her, not touching her but creating a human wall between her and the men. She muttered something to him but didn’t attempt to go around him.

  “You have one chance to get the hell out of here while still on your feet,” Brackish said. He made sure to look each of them in the eyes. “I promise you if you come at me, bones will be broken.”

  The lead drunk laughed, too stupid to be afraid. Chew-colored spit dripped down his chin, landing on his stained shirt. Brackish was disgusted knowing he was going to have these men’s odor on him. Why couldn’t properly hygienic pieces of shit ever pick a fight? Nope. It was always the smelly ones.

  “You’re going to be the one leaving here on a stretcher,” Drunk Number One said. “But I’ll visit you in the hospital and tell ya how good Erin was.”

  The man holding the Jack took a large swig before handing it to Drunk Number One. He took a swallow, wiped the back of his hand against his mouth, then handed the bottle back before stepping forward.

  Shit! Brackish needed to do this with as little damage as possible to this place Erin loved. But he wasn’t sure that would be possible.

  “Okay, if we’re going to do this, can you at least have enough respect to step outside?” Brackish asked.

  This made all of their group laugh. “You’re a real comedian, aren’t you?” Drunk Number Three said as he slapped some wire against the palm of his hand. Drunk Number One decided to make his move.

  He moved in close and looked away, alerting Brackish he was about to swing. Brackish took an indiscernible half step back, set his foundation, and waited. Sure enough, Drunk Number One came around with a sloppy haymaker. Brackish leaned away, then followed the drunk’s momentum with a perfectly clean right hand at the man’s jaw. He dropped without a sound.