His Firecracker: Sassy Girls Series

by Reynolds, Rory

Mack is the best at getting information. He’s ex-military like us, instead of going full civilian, he became a government contractor. Hutch has been trying to hire him full-time for years. He’s brilliant behind a computer, but it isn’t his specialty. I suspect the reason he keeps the government work is because of his other specialty. The ‘tell-you-and-I’d-have-to-kill-you’ specialty. I’m damn glad he’s on our side.

  “Negative. From what I’ve gathered so far, Joselynn Brooks showed up in Charlotte three years ago. I’m running checks right now on airlines and buses to see if anything pops up. She didn’t just appear from thin air. If I can find out how she got there, I can find out where she came from, and that’ll lead to who she really is.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “Depends—” Mack starts but I cut him off with a frustrated growl.

  Hutch chuckles. “What my friend here means to say is, thank you and let us know as soon as you find something.”

  I glare at Hutch. “No, what I meant to say is hurry the fuck up because some asshole is stalking my woman and I want to know why.”

  Mack laughs. “This has my complete focus. I’ll find out who she is and then we’ll find out who is fucking with your girl. And then we will deal with it.”

  “Yes. We will,” I say coldly.

  Hutch and I exchange a knowing glance. We left the killing behind when we stopped being soldiers. Being private security can be a violent job at times, but there isn’t much need for deadly force. With one look, I know we are both on the same page. Whoever is fucking with Joselynn is a danger to not only her but to our families… deadly force will be a mercy for whoever the stupid fuck is.

  * * *

  “Tell me you found something.” I rake a frustrated hand through my hair as I lean back in my office chair. It’s only been a few hours since I left Joselynn’s place and I’ve alternated between pacing my small office and sitting in my chair, practically ripping my hair out.

  “Oh, I found something alright,” Mack says. “Does the name Kieffer O’Neal mean anything to you?”

  “Yeah. He’s CIA, right?”

  “Ex-CIA… he’s retired now. At least, that’s what the records say.”

  “What does he have to do with Joselynn.” There is no hiding my irritation. What the fuck is my girl involved in that her name is tied to an ex-CIA spook?

  “Three years ago, an Andrea Cross disappeared from Denver. It’s like she walked out of her life with nothing but the clothes on her back. She missed rent, and her landlord went knocking, all of her things were there; including her purse, cell phone, her wallet… her car was parked in the lot. He reported her missing. The police looked into it, but no one knew anything.”

  “And this ties in how?”

  “The police questioned her neighbors, one of those was a Mrs. Helen O’Neal. Sister-in-law to Kieffer O’Neal,” Mack says significantly.

  “And you think my Joselynn is this Andrea Cross?”

  “Except that Andrea Cross doesn’t exist…”

  “Another alias?” I ask numbly.

  “A shitty one, but yes. Andrea Cross lived in Denver for eight months working as a waitress, and she did some housekeeping off the books. From the police interviews, she was a real loner. Her landlord let it slip that Andrea and O’Neal were close but when questioned, O’Neal denied knowing the girl other than in passing.”

  “Why would she lie about that?”

  “Why, indeed.”

  “You think that O’Neal figured out that Andrea Cross was in trouble and got her in touch with her brother-in-law?” I correctly guess.

  “Yep. Can you guess where ex-CIA badasses retire to?”

  “By that smug tone, I’m going to guess he’s here in Charlotte.”

  “I’m allowed to be smug when I’m this damn good.” And really, he’s not wrong. He can be smug all damn day if he helps me figure out what the hell is going on with my woman. “I just emailed you everything I’ve found so far along with contact information for Kieffer O’Neal. I’d strongly suggest meeting him somewhere very public and with a white flag waving. I’ve heard stories…” Mack trails off.

  He doesn’t need to warn me about Kieffer O’Neal. I know he’s a dangerous son-of-a-bitch. Good thing he also owes me a life debt. O’Neal and I have history. The kind that breeds loyalty and trust. The kind where blood was spilled in the name of freedom. Our paths crossed in the desert, and if it weren’t for a sick twist of fate, I’d have died long before the explosion that left me scarred. I’d have died a baby-faced soldier fresh off the boat. Instead, I fought side-by-side with a CIA spook who had just been betrayed by his unit.

  “Thanks, Mack. Keep digging. I want to know everything.”

  * * *

  Kieffer O’Neal looks the same as did years ago. Retirement hasn’t softened his edges in the least. The only difference is his black hair is now liberally peppered with gray. He stands from his chair as I approach, hand outstretched. We exchange a firm handshake, Kieffer’s eyes miss nothing as he takes me in. His cold, calculating eyes take in my scars unflinchingly. Unlike others who knew me before the explosion, there is no pity in his eyes. He’s almost dispassionate as he takes in the damage. I appreciate that more than words can say. It reminds me of how Joselynn looks at me, minus the hungry attraction, of course.

  “Mind tellin’ me what this little meeting is about?” Kieffer asks, cutting to the chase.

  “Joselynn Brooks.”

  Despite his years of training, I see the flicker of awareness in his eyes when I say her name. One of the first rules of being an agent is to not let anyone know your weaknesses, and my Joselynn means something to this ex-CIA operative. The fact that Joselynn isn’t just a job to him helps calm me. I’ve been on a hair-trigger for the last twenty-four hours and knowing that someone like Kieffer O’Neal is on Joselynn’s side means that she’s got the best of the best working to keep her safe.

  “What about her?” Kieffer asks, eyeing me warily.

  “She’s being stalked, and I want to know by whom and why the bastard is still breathing.”

  “What’s it to you?” He studies me carefully, and I know this is a test that I can’t fail. Not if I want his help.

  “Joselynn is mine.” My answer is blunt and possessive. There’s no sense in hiding the truth, though. She is mine. Even if she’s trying to convince herself she isn’t. I’ll take care of this threat against her, and when she’s safe, I’m going to claim her.

  If Kieffer is shocked by my declaration, he doesn’t show it. He just nods and purses his lips a little, a look I recognize as his ‘thinking’ face. He’s considering how much to tell me about the situation.

  “The name Rosetti mean anything to you?”

  “I think everyone knows the name right now. Chicago mob. They were just taken down in a massive bust for trafficking, drugs, and a bunch of other shit, right?”

  Kieffer nods. “Yeah, what no one is talking about is Frankie Rosetti and how there was a mole in the FBI that tipped the little rat off before the raid on their businesses. He disappeared without a trace,” he gives me a significant look, “until now.”

  “Frankie fucking Rosetti is Joselynn’s ex? Is she officially in witness protection? Is she a state witness?” My heart feels like it might explode with how hard it’s pounding. If Frankie thinks that Joselynn is connected in any way to the criminal case against the Rosetti’s she’s not just an ex-girlfriend he is stalking, she’s a witness who is a massive liability.

  It doesn’t matter that his own people turned on him once in custody. With the evidence and testimonies of the turncoats Joselynn wouldn’t be needed, the case is open and shut, at least from what I’ve read, she’ll still be a target, and for a guy like Rosetti, there is nothing sweeter than revenge. Especially when it’s personal.

  “No… Jos is off the books. My sister-in-law called me when one of Rosetti’s men tracked your girl down in Denver. Helen made me promise to take care of her, and that woman is a f
ucking terror, so I moved Jos here and gave her a fresh start.”

  “Her identity is nearly flawless. Mack gives sends his regards.”

  Kieffer laughs at that. “So that’s how you found out about my involvement.”

  I shrug. “Mack’s the best. He said it would take someone like him to figure out the Joselynn Brooks is an alias. So how the fuck did someone like Rosetti find her?”

  The smile fades from Kieffer’s eyes and is replaced with burning anger. “Unless he just got really damned lucky and randomly decided to take a vacation to Charlotte while on the run from the FBI, someone on the inside told him.”

  “If you did this off the official books, who knows who Joselynn really is and her connection to Frankie?” I don’t even try to hide my anger. It pisses me off when the scum ends up being one of the good guys.

  “You don’t need to worry about that. It’s being handled.” Kieffer gives me another significant look. Being ‘handled’ meaning, whoever fucked him over won’t be making the same mistake, or any mistake ever again. Good to know we are on the same page as far as how this situation is going to be dealt with.

  “And Rosetti?”

  “Still a ghost. Rosetti must still have someone loyal to him helping him out. But now that we know he has a target,” I growl at him using the word target to describe Joselynn, “we can pin the fucker down and handle it.”

  “I’ll get Mack on it. Your people are good, I’m sure, but Mack doesn’t have any red tape to deal with.”

  “That’s good. I’m assuming you’ve already got someone on Jos?” Kieffer asks.

  “Yeah, Sonja Petitt.”

  Kieffer lets out a low whistle. “Hutch didn’t mess around when he put his team together.”

  “Only the best.”

  “Sonja? She’s a cut above the rest. Not much of a team player though.” Of course, Kieffer would know all about that. Sonja is one of those people that the government doesn’t ever want to admit to having on their payroll. If Kieffer is a spook, Sonja is the boogeyman.

  Hutch was shocked when Sonja approached him for a job. She’s overqualified in every single way for working personal security. Sonja’s not as good at Mack is at the tech side of things, but she’s better than most. She might physically look like a china doll—pretty and delicate like you could break her on accident—but looks are definitely deceiving in her case.

  She’s deadly accurate with any gun you put in her hands. Hutch worried that hand-to-hand combat would be an issue, she took us to the training room and proceeded to wipe the floor with the whole team. Her specialty is blades. I wouldn’t want to meet her in a dark alley with a fucking butter knife, let alone the small sword she carries in a spine sheath.

  She’s perfect for guarding actresses and other female clients. She’s young and beautiful… no one suspects that she doesn’t belong. She’s a chameleon, if we send her to guard a young actress she is easily mistaken for part of the entourage. No matter the situation, she seamlessly glides into her roll. It’s almost scary.

  You can literally watch her transform from Sonja the Boogeyman to whatever role the job requires. I’ve seen her cold green eyes fill with laughter and light. Her unsmiling lips tipping up into a playful smile. The indifference she usually wears melting away into a joyful mask of friendliness, and then with a blink of an eye, the cold indifference was back.

  “When Jos called me, she was upset and talking about leaving town. She’s got a car stashed away in a storage unit along with cash and a whole new identity ready to go.”

  “What the fuck?!” I growl. “Why would she do that?”

  “She spent three years on the run before Helen sent her my way. If my daughter hadn’t been home the night Jos showed up, I don’t know that she would’ve stuck around. My Lindsay is a force of nature and decided from the moment she met Joselynn that they would be best friends. I think it had been so long since she’d had a friend that she decided to try.

  “She did her best to keep us at arm’s length. It took over a year for the hunted look to leave her eyes. Once she got the job at the hospital, she started smiling more often. Even with things going well, I don’t think she trusted it to last. That storage unit is her security blanket. She’s a planner and having a backup plan made her feel safer in the beginning.

  “I think she’s finally happy. Or was before that stupid fucker Frankie showed up again. She’s like a daughter to me, and I’ll do everything in my power to make her safe again. That little girl has been through more than any normal person could survive with their sanity intact.”

  Kieffer pauses, his lips pursing as he considers his next words carefully.

  “You’re a good man, Drake.”

  “I feel like there is a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

  His lips tilt up and he gets a predatory glint in his eyes. “But if you hurt my girl, I will make you disappear. After I’ve made you hurt.”

  “It’s a damn good thing I don’t plan on hurting her. Ever. I plan on loving her every day for the rest of our lives, just as soon as she stops trying to push me away.”

  Now all I have to do is convince Joselynn that she’s safest with me around.

  13

  Joselynn

  I cover my face with my pillow when my phone starts vibrating again. Drake hasn’t given up since I sent him away yesterday. He’s called me several times and texted me. I’ve tried to convince myself that I want him to just give up and leave me alone, but even with years of practice, I’m just not a good enough liar. I’m secretly thrilled that he hasn’t given up on me, yet.

  We haven’t known each other very long and have only been on a handful of dates, but my heart doesn’t seem to care. I’ve kept the broken pieces of my heart safe by not letting myself get close to anyone. Drake blew into my life like a hurricane. Instead of bringing destruction… he’s brought solace.

  I feel safe with him in a way I’ve not felt since before Frankie.

  I find myself wondering what Drake would say if he knew the whole truth about what happened with Frankie. Would he look at me with pity in his eyes when he realizes that I’m just as scarred up and ugly as how he sees himself? I have to blink back tears when I think about the baby. It doesn’t take a shrink to psychoanalyze why I decided to specialize in pediatrics or why when a job opened up in the nursery, I jumped on it.

  I was initially planning on working as a pediatric nurse in a private practice office. That was the dream. One internship at the hospital in the maternity ward changed that. I get to spend my days taking care of babies. Showering them with all the love and affection my heart desires. It’s safe. I can love them without having to worry that my past will somehow hurt them.

  Does Drake want to have babies? After watching him with his nieces and nephew, I know he would be a fantastic dad. I shake myself out of the daydream. What’s the point in imagining Drake as a dad? I pushed him away. There is no future between us. Not when my past won’t stay in the past.

  My phone stops vibrating across the coffee table just as there is a knock at my door. I drop the pillow to the floor and find myself standing halfway between the couch where I’ve become one with the cushions the last two days and the door. I know Drake’s on the other side of that door. Don’t ask how I know, I just do.

  “Joselynn, you can either open the door yourself, or I’ll open it for you!” he shouts through the thick wood. I look at the five locks dubiously. Even my landlord can’t let himself into my apartment. One chat with Kieffer and my landlord was more than happy to let me change the locks and add as many locks as I wanted. I think he would’ve let me put bars on the windows despite fire code. Yeah, I actually looked to see about putting bars on my windows when I first moved in. Paranoia keeps you alive and all that jazz.

  I’m not sure how he thinks he’ll get in here, but I’m not going to make him test his lock picking skills. Even though Drake shouldn’t be here—for his safety—I find myself eagerly unlocking my door. When it swings open, my h
eart flutters, and my breath catches.

  Drake is by far the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. His dark blue eyes are almost piercing in their intensity as he takes me in from head to toe. I shift uncomfortably because I look like crap warmed over. I haven’t slept or showered. I’m still in the same scrubs I wore to work yesterday. After I made Drake leave, I shut down.

  “Can I come in?” Drake’s voice is like a warm fuzzy blanket of calm against my frayed nerves.

  I don’t say anything, just open the door wider and step back to give him room. Once he’s inside, I start engaging the locks. I can feel his eyes boring into me as I snick the last lock into place. Now all that is left to do is turn around and face Drake… it takes several deep breaths and a little inner butt-kicking to make myself move.

  “How are you?” Drake is looking at me with such concern and dare I say, love? No. Not love. He should be mad at me for pushing him away. For giving up on whatever this thing between us is.

  “I—I’m okay.” It takes me two tries to push the words out.

  “You really suck at lying.”

  I can’t help it. I laugh. I laugh so hard that my laughter turns into a sob. And before I can push him away, Drake has me in his arms, holding me tight to his chest. His big hand moving up and down my back soothingly. I positively melt.

  Even after I’ve gotten myself under control again, I don’t move away from him. I should. Lord knows I should because I can’t have Drake. He and his family are in danger because of me. I should hear whatever it is he came to say and send him on his way again. I should do a lot of things… I do none of them. I very selfishly relax into his arms, soaking up his strength.

  “I met with a mutual friend of ours today,” Drake says, breaking the comfortable silence. “Kieffer O’Neal.”

  Every muscle in my body seizes up as tension radiates from my very core. Drake knows Kieffer? Why? How? My brain sends a dozen questions to the forefront at once, and I can’t seem to collect them into words that make any sense. So I just stand there, still wrapped in his arms, tight as a bowstring waiting for whatever bomb he’s about to drop.