Nancy C. Weeks's Blog

One of the greatest joys of being an author is hearing from readers after they finish one of my books. The emails I’ve received about In the Shadow of Vengeance have genuinely touched my heart, especially those asking, “What happened to Elizabeth’s family?” I’m thrilled to share that Elizabeth’s siblings will each find their happily ever after, just as Elizabeth and Noah did, in their own love stories filled with love, redemption, and a wonderful family reunion.

The Thompson Family Christmas Reunion series delivers a heart-pounding trilogy filled with romantic suspense, second chances, and a riveting love story. I can’t wait for you to experience the magic, so here’s a sneak peek from Never Say Goodbye. Writing about Christmas in the charming small town of Tarroll, Iowa, brought me so much joy, and I hope this story fills your heart with the same warmth and excitement.

Excerpt from Chapter One

Tarroll, Iowa

The disastrous day was coming to an end. If anyone had asked Katherine Thompson about her chosen profession yesterday, she would’ve answered that she was living her dream.

Trauma nurse extraordinaire. This was what she worked for, at the top of her class, turning in nothing but her best work in nursing school, all to be part of the Tarroll's County Hospital trauma team. It was a great workplace, and she took pride in the unit’s stellar reputation. But after spending the last sixteen hours treating the victims from the worst ice-packed highway pile-up in fifty years, she questioned her sanity.

The night shift was now in control, and every muscle in her body screamed for her to head through the exit doors before chaos hit again. But some days were more challenging to leave than others, and this day had been one of her worst. The weight of the tragedy, the loss of lives, how could the universe allow this to happen three days before Christmas?

From an early age, Katie had clung to the belief that Christmas was a time for miracles. But today shattered that hope. As the tenth victim staggered through the trauma unit doors, her once rosy outlook began to darken. By the time the twentieth arrived, her faith in miracles had disintegrated entirely. The brutal contrast between her childhood dreams and the cold, unyielding reality crushed her spirit, leaving her hollow and numb.

How did she allow herself to put so much trust into one season? The fact that her sister, Elizabeth, was ripped from the family for fourteen years because of Elizabeth’s ex-husband’s crimes should’ve knocked Katie’s belief out the window.

But Katie’s family was whole again. Elizabeth returned after living years in witness protection, and her new husband, Noah McNeil, Erin, and Danny would’ve arrived at the family’s farm hours ago. All that was left was for Katie to pack her Jeep and head home for seven beautiful days.

So, what was she doing standing by the supply room, staring at the ER after clocking out? It was time to let the day go.

Don’t wear it home.

That’s what her mother said to her the day she graduated. Great advice. But how did you let go of a day like today?

“Don’t even think about it, Thompson.”

Katie glanced at the doctor standing behind the nurse’s station. She respected the doctor behind the man, but the man, Matthew Turner, was a constant thorn in her side.

“I’m just standing here.”

“No, you’re thinking of restocking something or some other fix-it thing. You can’t fix this. Besides, if you still have an ounce of energy left, then maybe it’s the perfect time to head back to my place for that drink we’ve always discussed.”

Matthew was a major flirt and hit on her all the time. But this time, he was looking after her.

“I’m heading home. Merry Christmas, Matthew.”

“One day, Nurse Thompson, you’ll not be able to resist. I’ll be there to catch you.” With that, he winked and moved into one of the examining rooms, the curtain closing behind him.

Her fist clenched just enough that her nails bit into her palm. The last thing she needed was to become another notch on that man’s belt.

She tugged her bag over her shoulder and moved past the supply door. Matthew was right on one point. The night shift had everything under control. But before she reached the exit, something dropped off the shelf behind the storage room door, clattering on the floor. She turned and gripped the doorknob, giving it a turn. It was locked. No one should be in there.

But whatever it was, it didn’t just jump on the floor by itself. She keyed in the code as if her fingers had a mind of their own and opened the door. One quick check, and then she was out.

From the threshold, everything looked in order, but at the same time, the thin hairs on the base of her neck prickled. Maybe her tired brain was playing tricks on her. Or she wasn’t alone. She took a step farther into the room. The door shut, and the gush of wind took her by surprise. It was the hard, muscular body that slammed her into the door that took her breath away. A rough palm came over her mouth.

“Thompson, as in little Katie Thompson?”

The voice alone charged the fight into her, and no one called her “little Katie.” She bit down hard on the thin skin between his thumb and forefinger, hoping it drew blood.

“Stop that. You didn’t have to take it out of my poor hand. I’ll remove it if you don’t yell,” he said as a deep groan escaped his throat, something that didn’t come from her bite.

“Come on, Katie, it’s me. You know I’ll never hurt you.”

Liar!

“Nod your head that you won’t scream for help, and I’ll release you.”

She gave him what he wanted, and he removed his hand.

“Now, the rest of you, Colten Everette. Get off me.”

“I can’t do that just yet. First, I don’t want to, and I can never let my guard down around you. I’m very familiar with your fists and how they like to fly off in all directions."

AVAILABLE ON AMAZON AND KINDLE UNLIMITED

I would love to introduce you to Jackson Cole, my hero from Shattered Visions, Book 1 Sienna Beach Storms series. Jackson talks little about himself and his Raelynn in this heart-stopping romantic thriller.

I’ve asked one of my most wonderful readers, Mary, to conduct this interview with Jackson Cole. No one knows my characters as she does. But before she takes over, I want to give you a brief description of Jackson Cole.

He carries himself like a soldier and stands proud with muscular shoulders, a strong chest, and a lean waist. He’s a couple of inches over six foot and has gorgeous bedroom brown eyes, is he ever going to blush when he reads this. Today, he’s wearing a dark, navy-blue sports coat with a pair of black denim jeans. He’s the kind of man that doesn’t like to draw attention to himself – who can’t check this guy out?

Mary, this show is now all yours.

Hugs,

Nancy C. Weeks

Mary

Thank you for being here today, Mr. Cole. I just loved reading about you and Raelynn Brooks. You don’t look very comfortable. Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?

Jackson

Please call me Jackson.

He runs a hand through his hair and then wipes his palm on his slacks.

This is a little weird. I’m not comfortable talking about myself. But Nancy and Raelynn asked me to be here, so here I am.

Mary

I promise to make this as painless as possible. If you don’t feel comfortable with a question, let me know, and I’ll move on. So, in Shattered Dreams, you play the hero, right?

Jackson

There’s only one hero in this story. Raelynn.

Mary

I want to talk about Raelynn. But first, tell me a little about yourself.

Jackson

I run a restaurant called The Pit Shop. That takes up my day. The rest of the time, I’m with my son and Raelynn. That’s all there is.

Mary

You own The Pit Shop, and you’re leaving out an ocean of information about yourself. For instance …Why did you choose to study medicine? A follow-up question: Why didn’t you go through with your residency to become a practicing doctor?

Jackson

That isn’t part of the story …

Mary

But it’s a part of who you are.

Jackson

In a nutshell, medical school was my father’s idea. My best friend, George Garza spent a year as an Army Medic. I wanted to do something meaningful with my life, so I enlisted. Then my mom passed away unexpectedly, and my father had a heart attack months later. My sister moved home with my six-week-old nephew. It just seemed like it was time I returned home. My family needed me.

Mary

I don’t know many men willing to do something like give up a career for a family. That’s heroic …

Jackson

No, it’s my upbringing and what my mother taught me. Besides, I love this town and never intended to say away as long as I did. I had planned to return and finish my residency, but things changed.

Mary

Yeah, they do. So, Nancy doesn’t want me to give away any spoilers, so maybe we can change topics. You came home and reopened your grandfather’s place, The Pit Shop. Skip ahead five years. You’re raising your nephew, and The Pit Shop is the hang-out for Sienna Beach. And then, Rae Brooks drops into your life. Tell me a little about how that happened.

Jackson

I guess Dropped into my life is the perfect description of how I met Raelynn.

Mary

She asks me to call her Rae. You are the only one …”

Jackson

I like Raelynn.

Mary

Tell me about that first meeting – what the romance world calls your meet-cute.

Jackson

There was nothing cute about the moment I met Raelynn that evening or the next day.

Mary

Sure, but something happened, right?

Jackson

I met many people as a medic and now as a volunteer paramedic. I want to help them. Once I’m sure they are okay either on scene or in the hospital, I go on with my life. I can’t carry what I do as a paramedic home. It affects my son and my father.

Mary

Of course. That makes sense. But with Rae, you couldn’t let her go.

Jackson

No. The night of the accident, I couldn’t sleep, and when I did fall asleep, I dreamed of her.

Mary

You didn’t even really meet her until the next day.

Jackson

But talking to her on the roadside, hearing her voice, that’s all it took.

Mary

Has that happened before after meeting a woman for the first time?

Jackson

Everything with Raelynn was like the first time. I’m crazy in love with her. That’s only the beginning.

At this point, Jackson is no longer focused on Mary but somewhere else.

When we’re away from each other, I ache for her. But, when we’re together, I can’t get enough of her. Without giving any teasers away, my son describes it perfectly—Raelynn’s magic.

Mary

Don’t stop there. Tell us about her.

Jackson

She is intelligent and funny …she laughs at my jokes, and when she’s with my son, there’s a whole new side of her that I love—Raelynn’s my life, my heart. I’m nothing without her.

Mary

You didn’t always feel that her connection with your son was a good thing, right?

Jackson

I can be an idiot. She was never a threat to him. She saved his life.

Mary

I know. But you can’t give her all the credit.

Jackson

I was there, so I can.

Mary

I see you glancing at your watch. I know we are running out of time, so just one more question.

Jackson

Ask away.

Mary

You and Raelynn are together, but there’s no wedding date, right? What are you waiting for?

Jackson

I read in one of Shattered Visions’ reviews that a reader described Raelynn and me as a happily ever after for now. There’s no now about it. We’re forever together. There’s something we’re working on that has to come first.

Mary

I read Shattered Visions a couple of times. I know what you’re trying not to say, and I get it. Do that first.

Jackson

For now, we need to focus on my son and my father if he lets us. He’s not recovered as much as he wants us to think.

He stands and holds out his hand.

It was a pleasure to meet you. You’re one of Nancy’s favorite people in her world.

Mary

We’re sisters, forever friends. You know something about that.

Jackson

I do. Thanks for having me here today. Nancy asked me to let everyone know she posted the complete chapter one on her website. It’s just the beginning of Raelynn and me. One of the readers said, “Describing it [Shattered Visions] as a thriller romance is accurate and very much an understatement.” While things got a little crazy, those few weeks with Raelynn were much more than that. I hope the readers will enjoy the rest of our story. Happy reading.

Mary

With that, he left. It will be a long time before I forget Jackson Cole. Next week, we get to meet Raelynn. See you soon.

I hope you enjoyed this character interview. You can pick up your copy of ,Shattered Visions and have it delivered to your reader on June 15th. If you are in Amazon KU, Shattered Visions will be available in KU release day.

Welcome to my new blog series, Keeping the Dream Alive. One of my favorite perks about being an author is meeting fellow authors. What fascinates me the most about this new relationship is discovering the magic of the person behind the story. I know firsthand how difficult it is to create a novel from a blank sheet of paper. It takes guts, determination and passion. What idea first sparked their curiosity? What was so special about this topic that kept them writing chapter after chapter? And most important, what drove them through the finish line – the evasive The End? In this new author interview series, I hope to share that amazing journey with my readers.

It's my pleasure to welcome award winning author, Kevin G. Chapman! Thank you for sitting down today with me to share with us a little about yourself, the real person behind the writer. Let us start off with an easy question. When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?

Kevin: I’ve always been a closet writer. I wrote poetry in high school, and did some short stories in college. As a lawyer, my job is to tell stories, albeit in the context of tightly defined facts and evidence. But, storytelling is still the same.

Completing a book is an enormous challenge. What was your biggest obstacle and how did you overcome it? In other words, what do you think drove you to complete this enormous project?

Kevin: I have a day job, so the biggest obstacle for me is finding the time to dream up the stories and then execute on the writing. COVID-19 actually helped a lot – since I had little else to pass my time for two years.

I think being able to slip into my manuscript, and into a world I controlled was how I kept sane during the rough months of Covid-19. How do you think your life experiences have prepared you for a writing career?

Kevin: Being a lawyer gives me some perspective into the stories I write, but I also like to bring in my life experiences. We lived on the upper west side of Manhattan for 9 years, so my old neighborhood plays a big part in the stories. My wife and I love to cruise, so I wrote a book about a murder aboard a cruise ship. I love Las Vegas, so I set book #5 there. I play poker, so I had Mike play some poker and discuss some ways that poker strategy plays into solving crimes and interrogating witnesses. So, you use the knowledge you have - - and then use your imagination!

That is the gem of writing a great novel that makes our readers feel, letting in parts of ourselves and our imagination. Great answer. What moment in this journey are you most proud?

Kevin: Last year, book #3 in the series, Lethal Voyage, won the Kindle Book Award as the best mystery/thriller of 2021. That is a wonderful verification from a neutral panel of judges that my books are not just good for me, but damned good.

You should be proud. That is an amazing honor. Congratulations! Let's talk a little about your Mike Stoneman Thriller series. Who is Mike Stoneman?

Kevin: Mike Stoneman is a veteran homicide detective in the New York Police Department. In addition to being the senior detective on his team, he also teaches classes at the police academy and separate night classes for cops studying for the detective’s exam. His classes are on things like evidence handling, crime scene protocol, witness interrogation, and how to testify in court. He typically gets assigned the new detectives so he can show them the ropes. He likes that work – teaching the younger cops and passing down his wisdom. He loves it when other cops come to him for his opinion on a tough case.

He’s also a Mets fan and likes classic rock music. He wears plain slacks and sports jacket combos with non-descript ties and comfortable (old) shoes. He’s not flashy – he’s not trying to impress anyone. He’s just turned 50 and is a little overweight, but trying to work out more and get into better shape, especially since he has become romantically involved with Michelle McNeill, the county medical examiner. But, he likes his pasta. He also appreciates a fine single-malt scotch.

So, your Mike Stoneman Thriller series is also a romance. I love that!!! Tell us a little about the other characters we meet?

Kevin: Mike’s partner, Jason Dickson, is an African-American detective with a military background. He’s young and smooth and confident – but a little too cocky sometimes for Mike’s liking. There is some tension between them in book #1 (Righteous Assassin), but by book #2 (Deadly Enterprise) the partners fully have each other’s backs. In book #3 (Lethal Voyage), Jason takes more of the spotlight along with his girlfriend, Rachel Robinson. Their romance, which was briefly mentioned in book #2, becomes the emotional core of book #3. Then, in book #4 (Fatal Infraction), Jason decides to propose. In book #5 (Perilous Gambit), Jason and Rachel travel to Las Vegas to get married, with Mike and Michelle along as their friends and witnesses. The dynamics between Mike and Jason and their relationship, as well as the relationship between Mike and Michelle and between Jason and Rachel, are the heart of the stories.

I think my readers are going to love this series. What is up next for you?

Kevin: I’m working on a new book that is a stand-alone story – not part of the Mike Stoneman series. Should be done this year. Readers can watch my blog on my website (www.kevingchapman.com) for updates.

Where can readers find out more about your books and yourself?

Kevin: Everything is on my website at www.kevingchapman.com. Readers can also join my Facebook group – the Mike Stoneman Thriller Group and can follow me on Twitter and Instagram and Twitter.

Kevin, again, it was a pleasure meeting you and I can't thank you enough for being my first author in this new blog series. I wish you the very best with your new manuscript. Please come back when you're ready to talk about it.

Kevin's first novel of the Mike Stoneman Thriller series, Righteous Assassin is on sale for $0.99 for a very short time on Amazon. Grab your copy today and please consider leaving a review.

Hugs to all!!

Nancy C. Weeks

In Chapter One, of In the Shadow of Pride, you got a brief introduction to the relationship between Mac and Lexie. In Chapter Two, you get to see just how much these two fight their attraction in the most dangerous situation.

Just a quick reminder. Pride will only be $0.99 until it releases, 02/23/2021. Please grab your copy now!

Happy Reading...

Hugs to all,

Nancy C. Weeks

In the Shadow of Pride Book 4

Shadows and Light

Chapter Two

Two years later…

“Shit! What the hell?” Mac cussed under his breath as a thin line of sweat slid down his spine. Keeping his voice at a whisper, he stepped out of the teller line and spoke into his mic. “Why didn’t someone stop Lexie Trevena at the entrance?”

Rico’s widow, with a two-year-old Gabriel in her arms, had wandered right into the middle of a multi-task force sting operation.

“She parked in the Mother with Child slot at the front door. We couldn’t have anyone approach without drawing suspicion,” an agent in the surveillance van replied.

“Everyone stay alert. I’m going to try to get her and the kid out of here.”

Mac slowly made his way across the lobby. He couldn’t help admiring all that was Lexie Trevena. Her deep mahogany hair flowed loosely down her back, accentuating her dark tanned skin. Her charcoal-brown eyes brightened with a smile for the receptionist. God, she was beautiful. And Gabriel―the kid was a carbon copy of his father.

Lexie set the squirming child down at her side and reached into her oversized canvas bag. She pulled out a juice cup, handing it to her little boy. On any other day, Mac would have been okay with running into the pair. Why this bank at this exact moment?

Business in the small lobby was quiet for an early afternoon. It was why Luis Horde picked this time of day to rob credit unions. He could slip in and out quickly. However, things could change on a dime. If threatened, Horde didn’t think twice about using innocent bystanders as shields.

Horde had been working his way north, robbing one credit union after another for the last several weeks. Mac’s sister-in-law, Sarah had tracked his movements, and her algorithm predicted this branch would most likely be his next hit. As if on the clock, he entered the bank just a few minutes ago and was filling out a deposit slip at the center table where he could keep track of the entire lobby. He was probably composing the demand note to pass to the teller. Mac wanted him on the ground, but a couple of customers were too close, only an arm’s reach. If Horde made Mac, the calm, quiet afternoon would jolt into an intense hostage situation.

Mac took a moment to eye the three members of the task force positioned in the lobby. The rest of the task force surrounded the bank waiting for the signal.

His eyes raked over Lexie one more time. Even after two years, whenever he checked in on her and Gabriel, she still treated him like something she had to wipe off the bottom of her shoe. In her eyes, she lumped him into the perfect Venn diagram, husband killer, betrayer of trust, and in the center, Rico. But damn it, Mac wasn’t that man. Rico had been a good friend, but as a husband, he had been a complete ass. If Mac ever had a woman like Lexie Trevena in his bed, he wouldn’t screw it up by banging someone he talked to for five minutes in a bar.

Where the hell did that thought come from? Moron. Get your head in the game. New plan. Get Lexie and her son out of the bank without making Horde cagey.

Mac approached the reception desk and leaned his elbow on the counter. Gabriel held tightly to his mom’s leg, but glanced up, and smiled at Mac. He was a cute little booger and seemed to tolerate Mac a lot better than his mom. Gabriel held out his juice box toward Mac.

Lexie turned, and their eyes held. For an instant, she looked almost happy to see him. It may only have been the sense of seeing someone she recognized, the familiar, because her eyes slowly began to smolder.

“Why is it every time I’m having a shitty day, you show up?”

She picked up her son, eased around Mac, and sat Gabriel down in one of the plastic chairs. The kid let out a small protest and reached for his mother. She searched her bag, handing him a small book and a toy giraffe.

“As soon as I fill out some paperwork, I’ll pick you up.”

“I’ll take him.” Mac held out his hands.

Holding a child wasn’t one of his best plans with a bank robbery only minutes from breaking wide open, but the little guy looked so defeated. Horde glanced in their direction before turning back to his business.

“He isn’t feeling well.”

“Why don’t I help you carry him out to the car?” The excuse he was looking for just dropped into Mac’s lap. He held his hands out to the toddler and Gabriel went into his arms.

“What are you doing? Put him down. I have a meeting with the loan officer.” Lexie’s eyes searched the row of offices at the rear of the lobby.

“If Gabriel isn’t feeling well, maybe you should come back another day.” At a closer look, Gabriel’s eyes were a little red and his nose was running. Mac pulled out his handkerchief and did what he could for the nose.

“What do you know about kids?”

Mac shrugged. “I have nephews and nieces. Kids like me.”

Letting out a frustrated groan, she rummaged through her oversized purse. “If I had the time to come back another day, I wouldn’t be here now, would I?”

“Gabriel just looks a little green.”

“There’s a bug going around his daycare.” She smiled at her son. “Go on, Gabriel, why don’t you give Mac one of your very special hugs?”

Her eyes sparkled just a little too brightly. Mac took a closer look at the toddler and couldn’t help easing back just a little.

Lexie let out a deep laugh. “You’re the one who picked him up. When you come down with the flu in a week, just remember to get plenty of rest and drink lots of fluids.”

With that, she reached her hands out for her son and he dove into her arms, resting his head on her shoulder. With a sheet of paper still in her hand, she side-stepped around Mac and headed toward Horde’s table.

Mac grabbed her elbow and stopped her. “Where are you going? The door is that direction,” he said, nodding toward the entrance.

“I need a pen to fill out this form.” She pulled her arm free. “Don’t you have someone to arrest or something?”

Mac didn’t move, but searched for Horde out of the corner of his eye. Shit. The guy heard her, his stance grew stiff and he stepped away from the table, eyeing Mac and, worse, Lexie.

“But I took off work just to play with you and Gabriel. The little guy will feel better with fresh air. We can do this loan thing another day.”

Mac stared into Lexie’s confused eyes, silently begging her to play along. Before she could respond, Gabriel let out a groan.

“Sick bowl, Mommy.”

Lexie made a dash for the trash canister under the table, but it was too late. Gabriel let loose and emptied the contents of his stomach all over Lexie’s arms and Horde’s pant leg.

In all the years Mac had been an agent, this moment was a first. He had a couple choices, laugh out loud or pull out his gun, leveling it at Horde.

Lexie reached for her bag and pulled out a pack of wipes, removing several. She first washed Gabriel’s face, then cleaned off her arm. Mac grabbed several sheets from the container and scooped up what he could off the floor, tossing the mess in the small canister.

When Lexie glanced at the man’s leg, a hint of pink rose in her face. Mac almost lost his lunch when she knelt down close to Horde.

“God, sir, I’m so sorry. Here, I can get most of it off your leg, and I’ll pay to have your suit cleaned.”

Horde took another step away from her, shaking the vomit from the toe of his shoe onto the floor. “Never mind, lady.”

She stood, reaching for her bag. This time, she pulled out her wallet and handed Horde a ten-dollar bill. “I have no idea how much it cost. Will this do?”

Mac reached for Gabriel and set him behind him. One of his team would grab the kid if Horde pulled a weapon. Mac inched close enough to Lexie.

“Please take the money,” Lexie said, leaning in closer.

“If the man doesn’t want the money, you can’t shove it at him, love. You apologized. Just let him get on with his business. You need to see to Gabriel.”

He placed his hand on her arm, keeping his fingers relaxed even though adrenaline pumped through his veins.

She jerked free. “Mac, what’s wrong with you? Stop manhandling me—”

Horde grabbed a fistful of Lexie’s hair and yanked her against him. He whipped out a 9mm from the back of his waistband and rammed the barrel into the sensitive skin of her lower back. “Back off, cop.”

Customers shrieked and raced for cover as one of Mac’s agents grabbed Gabriel. The toddler let out a yell, but Mac kept his attention on Lexie. “Man, what the hell? I’m not a cop,” he said, raising his hands up. Fear cut through him but keeping the game going was priority. Lexie’s life depended on it. “Take your hands off my girlfriend. She just felt bad about the—”

“Back off!” Horde took two steps toward the exit. “Clear your team out now or she gets one through the shoulder. You have twenty seconds.”

“Mac!” Lexie cried out.

Horde dug the barrel deeper into her skin. It had to hurt like hell. Mac raised both arms, hands out, and took a step back. “Let the woman go if you want to see tomorrow.”

“Big words, asshole. I got your girl, and you have less than ten seconds.”

Lexie’s voice may have sounded full of fear, but if her eyes could shoot lasers, Mac would be a pool of ash. Her hand inched up between Horde’s arm and her neck. She leaned her head backwards.

Shit.

She was going to do something really stupid. Rico obviously had taught her how to get out of a chokehold, but never with a loaded barrel digging into her.

Mac yanked out his Glock and aimed it directly at Horde. “Don’t you dare.”

*

A shiver spiked down Lexie’s spine. Mac’s expression grew rigid as he held his stance stock-still. Out the corner of her eye, a woman raced with Gabriel through the exit. He shrieked for her, but the woman kept running.

Lexie hadn’t practiced her next move in over two years. If she was even an inch off, the situation would go to hell fast. She tightened her hold on the man’s arm, pulling his forearm down so she could breathe.

Mac’s words, don’t you dare registered. Why couldn’t that arrogant agent ever trust her judgment? She had one chance. If the man got her outside the building and into a car, it was all over.

“Five seconds, cop.”

Lexie took Horde’s words as her green light. Yanking her head forward, she slammed it into a hard jaw. The force of the blow sent him staggering backward, which eased his hold around her neck. She jabbed her free, fisted hand down hard into his groin. He released her completely as he bent at the waist. Lexie swung her fist up, striking his nose.

When a painful roar escaped from his throat, she twirled away from him, yanking his right shoulder out of its joint. She twisted his arm once more, and he let out another yelp before he lost his balance and landed flat on his back. The weapon in his hand fired a stray shot into the ceiling. The roar from the blast filled her ears, momentarily blocking out all sound. Mac ripped the gun from the man’s hand as two other agents secured him.

Mac grabbed Lexie’s elbow, shoving her behind him. The whole thing took seconds, but it drained every ounce of energy from her, and she leaned her head against Mac’s shoulder. Before her knees gave out, she stumbled over to a chair and dropped into it.

Mac followed, his large frame looming over her like a dark cloud and his hands fisted on his hips.

“Are you okay, Lexie?”

It took all her control not to scream in his face, No, damn it, I’m not okay! Rubbing the soreness from her knuckles, she studied his expression. Mac McNeil’s anger was a sight to see, brows narrowed, jar tense, hell, every muscle in his body taut, and it was all aiming right at her. Her! How could the jerk make this her fault?

“You let me sit here with Gabriel, and there was a guy with a gun only a few feet away.” She shot up from her seat and shoved him in the chest. He didn’t move an inch. “Am I okay? No, I’m not anywhere near okay. What the hell is wrong with you, McNeil?”

“Me? I did everything but drag you out by the hair. How dense can one person be?”

Mac’s conversation filtered across her mind. It made little sense in the moment, but now, hell, the man was so clear. Shit!

Mac ruffled her every nerve on a good day. She was just too tired, too stressed to give what he was saying even a momentary thought. He’d tried to warn her, and she missed every clue. God, Gabriel.

“Where is my son?”

“Relax. Gabriel’s fine. He’s with one of my agents.” He reached for her hand, easing her fingers out of a fist. The middle finger hurt the most. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over the swollen joints. “Doesn’t feel like you broke any bones.” He lifted her chin and studied her neck. “Your hand is going to hurt for a few days.”

“I remember. Rico wasn’t exactly an easy defense trainer.”

The intensity of his stare made her want to lower her eyes, break their connection, but that would be backing down. She would never allow Mac to get the upper hand. “If we’re done, I would like to see my son.”

“He’s right behind you.”

She turned and let out a noisy sigh. A woman held Gabriel in her arms. Tears streaked his soft cheeks, but he was fine. “Oh Gabriel,” she said, reaching for the one person on the planet she loved unconditionally. She moved her hand over his small body. “Are you okay?”

“I threw up.”

“I know, but I bet your tummy feels better.”

“Can I have a popsicle?” He lowered his head to her shoulder.

“As soon as we get home.”

A man dressed in a gray suit approached with her bag in his hand. “So sorry for what just happened. Are you okay?”

Lexie nodded her thanks, heaving the bag over her free shoulder. “I’m fine. I just need to get my son home.”

“Mrs. Trevena, I’m the loan officer, Carl Greene.” He led her a few feet away from Mac. “We can arrange another time to come in and discuss your―”

“What about my loan?”

His expression softened. “If you will allow the bank to use the trust fund as collateral—”

“No. The trust fund goes untouched. Do I qualify on my salary?”

He shook his head, and Lexie’s heart dropped.

Brad Winston had emailed her last week for the first time in two years. Gabriel’s birth mother wanted to meet. Lexie had to be overreacting, but if the woman thought she could take her Gabriel away from her, Lexie planned to have a large influx of money for the fight of her life.

Greene’s comment was the worst possible news: she had nothing. With tears blurring her vision, she said a quick thank you before heading toward the exit. Gabriel’s small arms wrapped securely around her neck anchored her emotions and kept her from breaking down.

“Lexie, wait a sec,” Mac said, crossing the foyer.

“Do you need me to give a statement?” she asked.

“What just happened?”

“Nothing.”

He raked his eyes over her and then at the loan officer. “Don’t lie to me. That wasn’t nothing.”

“It’s none of your business. I need to get Gabriel home.”

“I’ll see you to your car.”

“I can walk to my own car, McNeil.”

“And I’ll walk with you, Trevena.”

The heat of the afternoon hit Lexie the moment she stepped onto the sidewalk, but unlike most people, she enjoyed it. If she were alone, she would lift her face into the sun and allow its warmth to calm her. With Mac at her heels, taking a relaxing moment was out of the question. Clicking the key fob, she opened Gabriel’s side of the car and set her purse on the floorboard.

“Let me take Gabriel,” Mac said right behind her.

“I’m quite capable of putting my son in his car seat.” She set Gabriel down, pulled the car seat strap over his head, and clipped it into place. She pressed her lips on the boy’s forehead and said, “We’ll be home in a few minutes, and I’ll get you all cleaned up.” After shutting the door, she planted a smile on her face.

“Thanks for seeing me to my car.”

Mac leaned against the driver’s door with his hands in his pockets. There was something different in his eyes—not anger, but disappointment. If possible, that look hurt more than his anger.

He broke their connection, shielding his emotions. “Lexie, do you need money?”

She hugged her elbows. “No, I’m fine.”

“If you need—”

“Mac, I’m not taking money from you. Will you please drop it?”

Hardness formed in his expression as he straightened his frame. Time seemed to slow, and the tension between them thickened and intensified. God, he made her so nervous, and if she didn’t get the hell out of there, the tears she had been keeping back were going to break wide open.

A huge part of her wanted to unload everything, the fear and desperation that hit like a ton of bricks the moment she opened the email from Brad Winston, but she kept quiet. Sometimes pride meant carrying a heavy burden. She couldn’t show weakness, especially in front of this man.

Mac reached for the handle and opened her door. Still, she needed to say something to him. “I’m not usually that clueless. I should have picked up on what you were trying to do.”

A smile touched his lips. “You had your mind on a few other things.”

Hell, the man could change from being an irritating jerk to a perfect gentleman on a dime. He was actually trying to be nice to her.

Mac reached for her hand and Lexie stilled as his warmth spread through her. His thumb caressed the tender skin in the center of her palm. He didn’t move an inch, and she could have sworn neither did she, but before she could put any space between them, Mac lowered his head and their lips touched.

Undefined emotions spiked through her every cell as he brushed his lips over hers. She couldn’t stop herself. She deepened the kiss. Mac touched only the tips of her fingers and her lips, but it was as if their bodies meshed with each other. Need she had not felt in years overwhelmed her. She took what her body demanded until one reasonable thought surfaced.

This was Mac McNeil she was kissing as the damn FBI swarmed around them. She could easily lose herself in him; the sensations he dredged up were so strong. But Lexie had been down this road before. It wasn’t a place she would ever revisit. There was too much at stake for her to involve herself in another meaningless relationship.

Lexie turned her head and broke their connection. She inched away, bumping into the door frame. “I can’t… we can’t―”

He didn’t argue with her and even placed more distance between them, which allowed her to drop into the driver’s seat. She took her time adjusting her seat belt across her chest and placing the key in the ignition. She reached for the door, but Mac shut it gently and then tapped on the driver’s window with his knuckle. After lowering the window, she raised her chin and faced him.

“This isn’t over, Lexie.”

His words came out hoarse, sexy as hell, but they hit her like a threat. There wasn’t anything left in her to argue with him. Instead, she took the chicken way out and drove out of the lot. His intoxicating herbal scent clung to her, as did the feel and taste of him. It was going to be a long time before she got that kiss out of her system. It wasn’t until she reached the next block that her response formed in her head.

Like hell, it isn't.

,GET YOUR COPY ON AMAZON

Welcome to another #FreeREADFriday. Today, I want to introduce you to the amazing Mac McNeil and the woman that drives him mad, Lexie Trevena.

In the Shadow of Pride, Book 4 of the Shadows and Light series is a book you just can't miss. This romance journey will not be an easy road, but I promise you will fall head over heels in love with Mac and Lexie. This was one of the hardest stories for me to write The End. Even after spending the last two months re-writing and editing, I'm still struggling to allow this couple out into the world. But, they deserve that moment. You can find In the Shadow of Pride on Amazon Pre-Order, release date, 02/23/2021

Before I gust all over Mac and Lexie, I'm just going to give you a chance to meet them yourself. Just a quick reminder. In the Shadow of Pride is on sale for a wonderful price. Please grab your copy before it returns to it's regular price of $4.99. I really hope you enjoy Chapter One. Come back next week for Chapter Two. Mac and Lexie were made for each other.

If you need something to read before Pride is available, I recommend checking out Mac's brother, Jason McNeil and Sarah Tu in In the Shadow of Greed, also on sale. They are all over this story.

Happy Reading!!

Hugs to All,

Nancy C. Weeks

In the Shadow of Pride, Book 4 Shadows and Light

By Nancy C. Weeks

October 2012, Austin, Texas

Just when she thought the day couldn’t get any worse, fate stepped in and placed the jerk in her line of sight.

Special Agent-in-Charge Mac McNeil.

He stood several yards from her, his piercing, hazel eyes locked onto hers. Lexie Trevena stared at the ground, cutting off their connection.

A warm gust of air blew across the cemetery, surrounding her with a hint of freshly mowed grass and the roses from Rico’s coffin. The two scents had always brought a smile to her face, but from this day forward, they would yank her back to this place, this moment.

Taking a shaky breath, Lexie peered into the freshly dug grave inches from her. The crowd behind her began to shift, making their way back up the hill toward the line of cars. Her best friends, Cole Guzman and Marcus Aziz, stood behind her. Cole cleared his throat and eased next to her, taking her hand in his.

“You don’t have to stay. I—”

“The café can survive a little longer without us,” he interrupted.

“You can’t be closed during your busiest time of day. I’ll be fine.” Lexi glanced over Cole’s shoulder at the sea of mourners and planted a fake smile on her face. “I’m just waiting until some of the people leave.”

“We’ll take off if you promise to drop by and eat something,” Marcus chimed in.

“Maybe you can just bring me a sandwich at home. I need to be alone for a while. You understand?”

She reached up and kissed Cole on the cheek and repeated the gesture with Marcus. The men’s expressions were so easy to read, and their concern touched her heart. They wanted to make this all better. That was impossible.

“If you change your mind, or if you need one of us, just call, Lexie.” Cole tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear then reached for her hand.

“Go before you make me cry.”

They didn’t move. The push had to come from her. “I’m going to be fine, and you both will be a large part of that tomorrow, the day after, and months from now. I crazy love you both.”

She gave them another quick hug before they strolled up the hill.

Two groundskeepers stood off to her left, waiting patiently to lower the coffin into the ground. The thought of Rico’s strong amazing body buried under six feet of Texas clay was hard to digest. As long as she stood rooted to that spot, her nightmare couldn’t turn into her reality.

Mac McNeil trudged his way through the crowd of mourners toward her. She twisted away from him. Escape. Before she could make a move, a man whose name she couldn’t recall blocked her path, placing a hand on her arm.

“Mrs. Trevena…”

“Lexie. My name is Lexie.”

“Lexie, I’m so sorry for your loss. Your husband was a good man, a fine agent. He’ll be missed.”

He seemed to want some sort of acknowledgement from her, but she had nothing to give. He finally dropped his hand to his side and left her alone.

He was a good man, a fine agent. He’ll be missed.

How was her broken heart supposed to be consoled by strangers? Lexie had no idea what to do or say to the people around her. She couldn’t focus long enough to reason it out. Grief festered into a pool of staggering anger, sending her emotions into a tailspin. It was all so senseless.

The moment Rico told her he was going back undercover, that voice in her head screamed out, no, don’t leave―the sense of dread overwhelming. It was as if her heart knew this day would come, but her pleas, arguments, nothing she said kept him from walking out that door.

Out of complete desperation, Lexie had done the unthinkable. She’d stormed into the office of Rico’s boss and handler, Mac McNeil, and again she tried reason. Every ounce of her temper came out to play that day. Rico was so furious she had gone to his boss, it took him days before he was calm enough to talk to her. She crossed an unforgiveable line in Rico’s eyes.

Now the man who’d ordered Rico into that miserable alley off some nameless street in southeast D.C. stood only a few feet away from her, eyeing her with concern, and probably just waiting for her to go ballistic.

There would be no tantrum today, not here. She refused to break down. Rico might not have known the men and women who stood at his grave, but they came from miles around to honor one of their own, one of the fallen. If they could be here, honoring her husband with such strength and respect, then so could she. She would swallow sob after sob until her throat was bone dry, but not one tear would fall onto her cheeks.

Her husband of only twenty months couldn’t be in that oak coffin sitting on the rack. There had to be some mistake.

She hugged her waist as she tried to take control of her emotions. How she wished this horrible day would just evaporate like a bad dream. She could almost hear Rico’s deep, teasing laugh. He would call her his drama princess then kiss her senseless, chasing away her fear.

She couldn’t stand glued to this spot all day like a statue. Move.

Settling her nerves, she took a step back and bumped into a solid wall of man. Mac McNeil. His hand came at her elbow until she found her footing in the gravel, then he dropped it to his side.

“If you say you’re sorry for my loss, I swear I’ll give you a nose bleed.”

“Tell me what I can do for you, Lexie.”

“Make this go away. Give me Rico back.”

A wall of silence surrounded them until Mac broke it. “I can give you a ride home.”

“Got a ride. Someone from the protocol office arranged a limo.”

“I’ll ride with you, see you home.”

Lexie turned to face Mac. His eyes displayed such sadness and grief. He was hurting. Rico and Mac weren’t just colleagues but friends, and in their line of work, that friendship almost made them brothers.

Today, her pain and grief trumped his. Unable to keep the words in her head where they belonged, she whispered, “I hate you, Mac McNeil.”

“I know. Put it aside for now.”

She scanned the crowd that still mingled. All their eyes were on her, and she couldn’t catch her breath. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time her lungs weren’t screaming for air. “I can’t…”

“What?”

“I can’t watch them… I don’t want my last memory of Rico to be his coffin lowering into the ground.”

“I’m going to walk you to the car, Lexie.”

Mac placed a hand at her waist, and before she knew what was happening, she was sitting next to him as the limo pulled away from the curb. It wasn’t until she was standing at her door that her focus returned.

“What?” she said, staring at Mac.

“I said, give me your key.”

Lexie pulled the keys from her clutch purse. “I’m fine now. You don’t have to wait.”

“Just give me the key.”

One glance at the tightness around his eyes and his arched brows, she dropped the keys into his palm. There wasn’t any fight left in her.

At least it wasn’t hard walking into the condo. Lexie had moved into the place after Rico left. Their first apartment was only one room and a small bath. Once she’d found this place, she set out to furnish it with items she loved, waiting for the day Rico could add his touch to it. But that day never came. Rico had never set foot into their new home.

As she dropped her purse on the kitchen table, the stress in her shoulder muscles eased a little from the familiar sweet scent of the rosemary that grew on her kitchen counter. The tension instantly returned when she glanced behind her at the man who stood in her doorway. How was she going to get rid of Mac?

Her eyes fell on the organized clutter sprawled over half the table. She had been working on a midterm project when Mac showed up at her door five nights ago and told her about Rico.

Her life at the University of Texas seemed like another lifetime. Her dreams for the future, the strong drive to become an engineer, had drained out of her with Rico’s death. Exams were a couple of weeks away and she didn’t give a damn.

“Thanks for seeing me home,” she tried to dismiss Mac.

“Is there anyone I can call?” His frame continued to block the doorway, but he didn’t enter the apartment. “Your parents, family?”

“Rico was my family.”

“And he asked me to look after you.” He took a step into the room. “Rico never mentioned anything about your parents. Maybe I can call—”

“My father was out of the picture before I was born. My mom and I aren’t close. The less I see of her, the better.” Lexie brushed her hair from her forehead. “My friends, Marcus and Cole, are working. I have plans to meet up with them later. I know you are trying to help, but right now, all I need is time to myself.”

“I can’t leave you alone, Lexie. Rico would have my head. So, tell me, what can I do for you?”

What she should have done was close the door. Instead, her mind reeled with too many questions.

“Tell me how my husband died. What went wrong? You promised me you would have his back.” The space between them seemed to disappear. “How in the hell is this having his back?” Before she could stop herself, the anger bottled inside spilled out all over Mac. She shoved both of her hands into his chest, making him stumble backward. “Tell me how I’m supposed to get through the nightmares of Rico dying alone in some filthy alley. And how do I face waking tomorrow knowing I’ll never hold Rico, never feel him next to me?” Lexie choked down a sob. “If you can do that, then you’re welcome to stay.”

“Rico wasn’t alone. I couldn’t prevent his death, but I held onto him until—”

“Where was Jason, his partner? Why didn’t he stop it? And don’t try feeding me that shit about how you can’t discuss details of the investigation. He was my husband and I have the right to know how he really died.”

“Jason went down first. Rico lunged in front of him and took a bullet in his chest.”

The image of Rico throwing his life away for his partner was part of the tortured dreams she had for months. She’d screamed until she was hoarse, but no one would listen to her.

She couldn’t take pride in the sacrifice he’d made for his partner, the job. Instead, her blood boiled within her veins and she had no idea where to place the anger.

The tears she had held back let loose, and she didn’t even attempt to stop them. She was going to hate herself in about five minutes, and maybe for a long time to come, but at that moment, she didn’t care. “Why do you get to have your brother back, and my Rico is in the ground?”

The room grew still, cold. “Would you rather Jason had died alongside Rico? Would that make this easier?”

Her knees trembled. She moved to the sofa in the middle of the room and dropped onto the cushion, covering her face with her hands. What happened to being the better person today for Rico? Just thinking about what he would say if he were there made her cringe.

“I didn’t mean… Rico considered Jason his brother. That makes him family, my family.” As much as Lexie wanted to avoid facing Mac, she lifted her head and met a pair of cold hazel eyes.

She should apologize. In fact, she never should have opened her mouth in the first place.

A tap on the door sounded. Without breaking his hard glare, Mac opened the door. A man Lexie never met before stood at her threshold.

“Is this the Trevena residence?”

Mac positioned his body to block the entrance. “How can we help you?”

“I’m Lexie Trevena.” She rose and took a step toward them.

It took an instant to notice the infant carrier the man held in his left hand. The tiny newborn baby slept on as the adults in the room stared at one another. Lexie wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. How can I help you?”

He held out a business card. “I’m Brad Winston with Winston, Botts, and Flores, a law firm headquartered in Dallas. I’m looking for Rico Trevena.”

Mac moved around the man, his eyes on the carrier. “And what’s your business with—”

“Mac,” she said quietly. “I’m Rico’s wife.” She took the business card he still held out and gave it a brief glance. “Mr. Winston. I buried my husband today.”

“Rico Trevena’s dead?” He shook his head, and the arrogance in his demeanor seemed to drain out of him. “I’m sorry for your loss. Had I known—”

“What business did you have with Rico? He had a lawyer.”

“I don’t represent Mr. Trevena. Would you mind if I put the infant on your sofa?”

“Of course.” Lexie moved out of his way and said nothing as Winston gently settled the carrier on the center cushion. Mac moved behind Lexie. The tension radiating off him made her jumpy as hell.

The lawyer cleared his throat. “I represent the mother of this baby.” He brushed aside Lexie’s textbooks, cleared a spot on the table, and flipped open the latches on his briefcase. “I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to spit it out. Rico and my client… well, they… that’s Rico’s child, a little boy. His name is Gabriel Trevena and is two days old.”

Rico’s child? The two words stabbed through Lexie’s heart. “That’s not possible.”

Mac stalked across the room until he was nose to nose with the lawyer. The man’s eyes never blinked.

“Look, Winston. I don’t know who the hell you are, but you can’t come in here and tarnish a good man’s name and hurt his wife like this. She’s just returned from his funeral, for God’s sake.”

The attorney took a blue folder and handed it to Mac. The hitch in Mac’s breathing rocked what was left of her foundation.

“I have the paternity test,” Winston said. “Your friend here will confirm that your husband fathered this child. I’m so sorry to have to do this to you, but—”

“What do you want from me?” Lexie choked out.

Again, her lungs emptied. The beautiful, innocent child was living proof that her Rico broke every vow he made to her.

Mac’s arm came around her waist and she jerked away. Her mind screamed get out, everyone get the hell out of my house, but this time, the words wouldn’t come.

“Mrs. Trevena, I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“Then why the hell are you here?”

How Lexie got the question out of her clogged throat was a mystery. At least her words seemed to have some effect. Color drained from the man’s cheeks and his eyes darted toward the door.

“My client is from a very powerful political family. They’re not likely to accept Gabriel because Rico was—”

“Half native Indian and half black? Why, that self-righteous bitch. My husband was good enough to sleep with, but—”

“Mrs. Trevena, my client never wanted children and said her relationship with your husband was a twenty-minute drunken mistake. Rico convinced her to take the pregnancy to term. He was going to raise the child.” He paused and leaned his hip against the table. “I’m sorry to put you through this, especially today. I really had no idea of Rico’s passing, but nothing has changed. If Rico had refused the child, I have instructions to place him with a private state-licensed adoption agency. There are parents on the waiting list for infants.” He replaced the folder and shut the lid of his briefcase.

The room grew still, with only the hum of the refrigerator a few feet away filling the void. Lexie approached the sofa and eased the blanket away from the baby’s face. The lawyer reached for the carrier handle. Before he could lift it, she shoved his hand away. “Wait. Just wait a second.”

The baby had Rico’s nose and full lips, even the slant to his eyes. Every muscle in her body began to shake. Her heart hammered inside her head, and she couldn’t take enough air to fill her lungs. This panic attack was going to be a doozy if she didn’t gain some measure of control. She stood there like a moron, staring at Rico’s son while she mentally put herself through the breathing exercises she had learned years ago to calm her attacks.

“I need… space,” she gasped. The lawyer took a couple of steps away from her. Again, she shut her eyes, focusing on taking in a deep cleansing breath, then letting it out to the count of ten.

Rico, how could you do this to me?

Her eyes popped open and her heart dropped to her stomach. Rico was gone, his coffin covered with six feet of dirt by now. This child was supposed to be theirs. They’d been waiting until Lexie finished her degree. At twenty-two, she thought she had all the time in the world for children.

She couldn’t explain the need, but her arms ached to hold Rico’s son. She reached out her arms but dropped them back to her side. Warmth closed in on her, and she could almost hear what Rico would say to her if he were there.

Take him. Love him.

The four words whispered around her. As quickly as the warmth appeared, it disappeared, leaving her chilled to the bone.

Why didn’t Rico tell her about the baby? He had to have known for months. As soon as that thought sank in, another one slammed into her. She faced Mac. “Did you know about Rico and this woman… and the baby?”

“No, Lexie, I didn’t know about the baby. I never would have allowed you to be blindsided like this.” He stood completely still as if he were choosing his next words very carefully. “I knew Rico. You knew him, too. He drank like a fish—beer, hard liquor, it didn’t matter. That was a part of him neither of us could change, but it didn’t define the man. He didn’t want this to happen like this.”

“Mrs. Trevena, your name is on the custody papers that Rico and my client drew up.”

“What?” Mac and Lexie said simultaneously.

“I know this must be a shock and quite unfair, but if you are at all interested in raising your husband’s child, I have the paperwork with me.”

She didn’t know from where the strength came, but she took another step forward and lifted Gabriel, cradling his tiny body close to her heart.

This was crazy. But was it a mistake? She couldn’t let Rico’s child be placed with some stranger. She had spent enough years living with people who pretended to love children. There was no way she could stand by and chance that Rico’s son got one of the good ones. She touched her lips to Gabriel’s soft, baby-scented cheek. Dear God, could she do this?

“Lexie, think for a moment,” Mac said at her side.

“I don’t want just custody. If I take Rico’s son, I’ll adopt him. His mother doesn’t get to take him back.”

Mr. Winston opened the briefcase again. “The paperwork is already drawn up. All I need is your signature.”

Panic sliced through Lexie. “Don’t you need to clear this with his mother?”

“Mrs. Trevena, like I said, everything has been decided. After you sign the papers, I’ll file them with the courts. There is also a bank account set up for Gabriel’s needs, and yours, of course.”

“You are not paying me to take this child.”

“Of course not. But my client is a wealthy woman. She will not raise Gabriel, but she will provide for his needs.” He headed for the doorway, lifted a large plastic bag, and set it on the kitchen table. “I have a few things you’ll need until you get to the store.” He then laid the folder next to the bag and pulled out a stack of papers all stapled together.

Lexie’s heart went out to the baby in her arms as the words take him, love him pierced her heart. They were Rico’s words. She didn’t doubt it for a moment, even though the very idea pitched her emotions into a whole new plane. Before reason set in, she blurted out, “Where do I sign”

The lawyer pointed to several places in the contract. Lexie reached for the pen.

Mac placed his hand on her elbow. “Lexie, wait. You can’t sign those damn papers without having someone look them over.”

“Look at him, Mac. Gabriel looks just like Rico. This is Rico’s son. If I don’t raise him, love him, then who will?”

Before she lost her nerve, Lexie signed the adoption contract on each line Mr. Winston indicated while Gabriel slept peacefully in her arms. He placed the contract back into his briefcase and headed toward the door. “My client leaves for Japan and will be out of the country for the next several years. If you decide you can’t do this, call the number on the card.”

Just as Mr. Winston reached the door, she called out, “Wait. Could your client just be experiencing postpartum depression?”

“No, Mrs. Trevena. Gabriel’s mother never would have raised her son. I couldn’t even get her to hold him.” A slight smile appeared at the corners of his mouth and warmth entered his eyes. “I truly am sorry for the timing, but I must say I’m content with the arrangements. I think Gabriel is a lucky little boy to have you.”

“Do you want me to send you pictures, updates…?”

“No, that’s not necessary. Gabriel is your son, and you’re his mother.” With a nod, he walked out the door.

Lexie couldn’t help listening to his shoes clicking on the hardwood flooring of the hallway, the fear he would stop, turn around, and take Gabriel so raw. Mac hadn’t moved an inch, the look of shock on his face spreading into every one of Lexie’s nerves.

He straightened his stance. “I can’t believe what you just did. That was the most reckless, ridiculous…”

“Mac McNeil, go. I don’t have the strength to fight with you. I did what I had to do.”

“You have to think this through. Raising a child is for life.”

Lexie cuddled Gabriel against her chest. With her free hand, she opened the door wide. “Please, Mac. Gabriel and I will be fine.” Her knees began to tremble, and she leaned against the door for support.

He took a card from his pocket, scribbled something on the back, and set it on the table. “I don’t know what the hell just happened, but if you need me for anything, call.”

“I won’t call.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of Gabriel’s head. “Rico was one of my best friends. I may not agree with what you just did, but I’m not the enemy, Lexie,” he whispered, his attention focused entirely on the baby. When he raised his head, their eyes held. “I’m here whenever you need me.”

He eased past her and walked out the door. As if on autopilot, Lexie closed the door quietly behind him, setting the lock in place. Her knees finally gave, and she slid against the door onto the floor. With Gabriel securely asleep in her arms, she tucked her head into his blanket and sobbed.

RELEASE DATE 02/23/2021

GET YOUR COPY OF IN THE SHADOW OF PRIDE ON AMAZON NOW!

This has been an unimaginable year for the world. My heart goes out to all of those who have lost love ones to the Covid 19 virus. In the same breath, I pray for the rest of us who have lost our hard earned livelihood in attempt to stop the spread of this virus. It can be hard to see beyond the pain, but we must try. The most powerful strength in the universe is love, and with that love, comes what we all want. Peace.

For my Christmas wish, I again turn to the beautiful voice of Maya Angelou.

Amazing Peace: A Christmas Poem

Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes
And lightning rattles the eaves of our houses.
Flood waters await us in our avenues.

Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to avalanche
Over unprotected villages.
The sky slips low and grey and threatening.

We question ourselves.
What have we done to so affront nature?
We worry God.
Are you there? Are you there really?
Does the covenant you made with us still hold?

Into this climate of fear and apprehension, Christmas enters,
Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope
And singing carols of forgiveness high up in the bright air.
The world is encouraged to come away from rancor,
Come the way of friendship.

It is the Glad Season.
Thunder ebbs to silence and lightning sleeps quietly in the corner.
Flood waters recede into memory.
Snow becomes a yielding cushion to aid us
As we make our way to higher ground.

Hope is born again in the faces of children
It rides on the shoulders of our aged as they walk into their sunsets.
Hope spreads around the earth. Brightening all things,
Even hate which crouches breeding in dark corridors.

In our joy, we think we hear a whisper.
At first it is too soft. Then only half heard.
We listen carefully as it gathers strength.
We hear a sweetness.
The word is Peace.
It is loud now. It is louder.
Louder than the explosion of bombs.

We tremble at the sound. We are thrilled by its presence.
It is what we have hungered for.
Not just the absence of war. But, true Peace.
A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies.
Security for our beloveds and their beloveds.

We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.
We beckon this good season to wait a while with us.
We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.
Peace.

Come and fill us and our world with your majesty.
We, the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and the Confucian,
Implore you, to stay a while with us.
So we may learn by your shimmering light
How to look beyond complexion and see community.

It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.

On this platform of peace, we can create a language
To translate ourselves to ourselves and to each other.

At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of Jesus Christ
Into the great religions of the world.
We jubilate the precious advent of trust.
We shout with glorious tongues at the coming of hope.
All the earth's tribes loosen their voices
To celebrate the promise of Peace.

We, Angels and Mortal's, Believers and Non-Believers,
Look heavenward and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at our world and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves

And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation.

Peace, My Brother.
Peace, My Sister.
Peace, My Soul.”

― Maya Angelou ―

The weather is changing, the nights are a little cooler, and it's the perfect time to curl up with a McNeil brother. Last week, Adam Blake just wanted to spend a little alone time with Calista Martin. As you know, things got a little complicated. If you haven't read In the Shadow of Malice, chapter 1-2, or the other free chapters from the Shadows and Light series, you can do so HERE.

Now, for the rest of us, it's time to learn just what Calista got herself into and what she's plans to do about.

In the Shadow of Malice

Book Three

Shadows and Light series

By Nancy C. Weeks

Release date, September 29, 2020

Pre-Order Amazon

Chapter Three

My daughter.

One solid fact hit Calista square in the face. She had no idea who Adam Blake was―except that he loved his little girl and he could kill a man with his bare hands.

The images of blood and death would be with her for a long time. But it didn’t matter that her heart beat like a native drum against the wall of her chest. She had to stay calm. The young girl in her arms needed her.

Anna lay across her chest, motionless except for the involuntary quivering. The back of her little head dampened Calista’s thin T-shirt. Shifting her numb left arm, she repositioned Anna into a more comfortable position and draped the lightweight quilt around her shoulders. She couldn’t help running her hand over the child’s head, giving her comfort―though nothing she did would ever replace what Anna just lost.

“Calista.”

Adam’s voice was rough without any sign of humor.

“Still think of me as Batman?”

He was waiting for a response, but she didn’t have one. So much had changed since she teased him about having a bat cave. But had anything about the man really changed?

Like her grandfather, Adam moved like a well-trained soldier. He fought like a warrior, killed like a warrior. But the man she stared at in the mirror was no killer. He possessed too great a love for this child.

“Don’t do that, Adam. Don’t try to make me fear you.”

He wanted her to walk away. She gave up that choice the moment she got out of Adam’s car and walked through Rina’s doorway. Her instincts never failed her. Adam Blake was one of the good guys, regardless of what took place in that home. One day, he might need a witness on his side of the courtroom if it came to that. Or even just a sympathetic shoulder when he was ready to pick up the pieces.

She broke eye contact and glanced at the child in her arms. “My life is an open book. You knew who I was the minute we met. In the last half hour, I met another side of Adam Blake, and maybe that evens the tables a little. But if you don’t want me with you and Anna, take me back to the diner. Pete should still be there.”

Her words sounded bold, even daring. If he did what she suggested, it would be the last time she ever saw him. A growing ache of loneliness settled in the pit of her stomach.

Adam slowed the car and exited off the Beltway onto US 1, about five blocks from the diner. Calista’s heart skipped a beat. She’d played her only card, a miserable bluff, and it was about to kick her right in the ass.

He drove about a block and pulled into the parking spot at the back of the lot of a large chain hotel. Calista stared at the dense trees outside the rear window and raised her head to get a better look.

“Why are we stopping here?” Her voice cracked.

Anna seemed to tremble a little harder in her arms. Calista drew her close to her chest. When he finally spoke, the roughness in his voice made her shiver.

“I’m dropping you off. You can’t go home just yet. You’ll stay here until I’m sure you’re safe.”

“No. I’m not staying here.”

Adam raised his hand, rotating it so she saw all sides. The blood had dried in an abstract pattern that shifted as his hand twisted.

“My life. Open your eyes, Calista. Nothing about me is safe. It hasn’t been for a long time. I couldn’t even see my daughter like a normal dad but had to sneak visits behind walls of steel. I was trying to fix that, but after tonight…”

“Adam.” Calista placed her hand on his shoulder. She didn’t know what to do, what to say. He was clenching his jaw so hard, a small pulse appeared above his jawbone. She removed her hand and cradled his daughter.

He had returned to his death grip on the steering wheel and peered out into the night. “I should have never allowed it to get this complicated.” He raised his bloody arm. “This isn’t your life. You can leave. So far, no one knows anything about you.”

Calista could hear Adam rub his palm back and forth over his pant leg, as if he were trying to wipe away the bloodstain.

A long, low sigh escaped his lips. “I’m every bit as violent as the men I killed. No illusions here, Calista.”

The words run and hide pounded in her head. If she turned her back on Adam and the violence in his world, in a year’s time, tonight would play back as a bad dream, a figment of her imagination. Her eye caught the slight glimmer of her friendship bracelet. Hanna had worn the duplicate, and just eyeing the bracelet brought her friend closer. Calista had no idea where the fierce resolve came from, but there was no way she could leave either Anna or Adam until they both were safe.

“I’m with you.”

He said nothing for a long time. Anna twisted in her lap and stared at the back of her dad’s head.

“No, Anna. I won’t stop. She needs to be scared.”

Was Adam going into shock or were his senses shutting down? Anna hadn’t spoken a word.

“Who needs to be scared?”

“You do, Calista. You could have been killed. I told you to drive away.”

A moment went by in silence. Then Adam rolled his eyes and a frustrating groan escaped from the back of his throat. He twisted in his seat and addressed his daughter. “Animals get mad, sweetheart. People get angry, pissed. And for the record, I don’t care if she’s pissed.”

The pulse at Calista’s neck drummed. She had just shifted a giant step beyond concerned.

“Adam, what’s going on?”

“Anna just asked me not to piss you off.” His head tilted and his eyes narrowed. “Why would you ask that? You heard her…”

“Anna hasn’t spoken a word since I met her.”

“Yes she has. She doesn’t want you to leave. She likes you.”

Calista hugged Anna closely. “I like her too, but she hasn’t uttered a sound.”

“That’s impossible.” Adam got out of the driver side of the car and yanked opened the passenger door. He knelt so he was eye-to-eye with his daughter. “Anna, say something. Talk to me.”

Anna stiffened in Calista’s arms but didn’t make a sound.

For the next couple of minutes, two identical pair of eyes―father and daughter―glared at each other, but neither spoke. Adam pressed a hand to his temple.

“Is your head throbbing again?”

“Yes.” He rolled his shoulders and neck, facing Anna. “How are you doing this, sweetie?”

Anna’s eyes grew wide as she shook her head.

“Why won’t you speak to me like you always do?”

Anna’s body tensed and she began to tremble. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. The more agitated she became, the more color seemed to drain from Adam’s cheeks until his complexion was almost waxy. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath.

Calista moved her hand up Adam’s arm and around his neck, massaging the tense neck muscles. “Is she speaking to you right now?”

“Yes.”

Calista’s heart dropped to her stomach. Watching the soundless communication pass between Adam and Anna was the most bizarre thing she had ever witnessed.

“Has this telepathic thing between you ever happened before tonight?”

“No.”

With the tip of her finger, Calista lifted Anna’s chin so their eyes met. “Anna. I want you to try something for me. When you speak to your dad, sing the words in your head.”

“Why should she sing?” Adam’s fingers dug into the soft skin of his temples, rotating the tips in tight circles.

“The suggestion is totally out of my expertise—anyone’s expertise. I think if she changes the frequency of her pitch, the vibration, maybe the headaches will lessen.” She glanced down at Anna. “Try it. Instead of talking to your father, sing your words.”

The inside of the vehicle grew quiet. Moments later, Adam reached for his daughter’s hand. “I understand that, Anna, but…”

A hollow moan came from deep within his throat, and again, the color drained from his face. He yanked his hand away and cupped his head.

Calista placed her hand on Adam’s arm. “What’s happening?”

“Anna doesn’t want me to leave you here. She thinks it’s unsafe.” A tear mixed with blood escaped the corner of Adam’s eyes.

Calista hugged Anna. How did she explain to a four-year-old that the words she was telepathically transferring to her father were hurting him? “I promise you, Anna, I won’t leave you until you’re ready for me to go.”

“Don’t promise her that!”

Anna struggled until Calista released her. She flew into her father’s arms, almost knocking him backwards. He corrected his balance and hugged her tight. She eased away from him and placed her hands on either side of his face. The child was doing something right because the tension eased from Adam’s eyes and his color returned.

He remained silent, studying his daughter for several moments. When he spoke, his voice was rough. “Fine. No one stays here. I’ll come up with another plan.”

A slight smile formed at the corners of Anna’s mouth before she gave her dad a hard hug. He lifted her onto the seat, and the moment he released her, she eased into Calista.

He stood and moved behind the sedan. The trunk opened, and just as quickly slammed shut. Adam knelt at the door opening. Without touching Calista, he ran a small device the size of a cell phone up and down her body. Lifting her feet off the floorboard, he ran the device over the soles of her shoes. He repeated the search on his daughter.

“Okay, you’re freaking me out. What the heck is that thing?”

“Looking for tracking devices.”

“On me?”

He met her stare and shrugged. He stopped when a quiet gasp escaped his daughter’s lips. “It’s okay, Anna. You’re safe. I promise you I’ll keep you safe.”

“Can a tracking device fit anywhere?” Calista lifted Anna into her lap. For some reason, the shivers returned. The little girl was scared, and Calista didn’t know what to do to ease her fears.

“Yes. Why?”

“What about the items from the room and the backpack?”

“Ludis wasn’t in that room.”

He reached for her cello case and backpack, scanning each. “Calista, please step out of the car.” He placed his hand on his daughter’s head. “She’s not going anywhere. Promise.”

Anna released her grip around Calista’s neck and shifted off her lap. Calista took in a deep breath and left the car. The cool breeze caught the strands of her bangs and blew them across her face. She removed a band from around her wrist, pulled the mass of curls into a messy ponytail, and tied it back.

The scent of pine and dirt assaulted her senses, while the concert of crickets and other night creatures remained strangely hushed. Again, what was so obvious to them that she slipped passed her?

Adam reached for her hand, and in a low voice asked, “Do you really know how to handle a weapon?” The cold metal of a handgun pressed the inside of her palm.

She swallowed, hard, but gave him a nod.

How she hated the weight of a gun in her hands. But with practiced ease, she removed the magazine and the slide assembly, then replaced the parts without breaking eye contact with Adam. “I’ve been going to the firing range since I was eleven. It was important to Pete that I not only could hold and clean a gun, but also shoot one.”

He stepped away from the door and handed her the keys. “If you are coming with us, we take only what’s on us.” He nodded toward the hotel. “My company rents a couple of rooms here. I can store our belongings, but I need you to stay with Anna.”

“But wouldn’t your sensor pick up any tracking devices?”

“Yes, but the lighter we travel, the easier it will be to disappear.”

“My cello. It’s my grandmother’s. I just don’t want anything to happen to it.”

“Is there anything else in your belongings you have to have?” He set the cello case, canvas bag of books, and the laptop on the asphalt.

“No, nothing that can’t be replaced.” Calista dropped into the driver seat.

Adam moved around to the passenger door, opened it, and placed her instrument on the floor next to her. “For now, it stays. If I’m not back in five minutes, get the hell out of here. There is an untraceable bank card in the glove compartment, as well as cash.”

He took out a pen from his coat pocket. Lifting Calista’s hand, he scribbled something on the inside of her wrist. It tickled, but her nerves were too jumpy to laugh.

“Give me five minutes. If I’m not back, leave. I’ll find you.” He reached into the car and keyed in an address into the GPS. “I’ll meet up with you here. If Robert isn’t there,” he said, raising her wrist again, “trust only this man.”

“I trust Pete.”

“But Pete can’t protect you.” He tapped her wrist. “This man can and will.” In a deep, hoarse whisper, he said, “Please take care of my daughter.”

Adam didn’t wait around for her response, but grabbed their belongings and jogged across the parking lot. Calista followed his progress until he disappeared into the entrance of the hotel. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Could she really leave him here?

Calista met Anna’s wide-eyed stare in the mirror. “It’s going to be okay, Anna. Your dad will be right back.”

Anna moved her head back and forth. She fumbled with the seatbelt clip until she had it undone, and climbed over the console into Calista’s lap, burying her head in her chest.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said again, cradling the child in her arms. Taking in a calming breath, she began to hum her favorite childhood lullaby, never taking her eyes off the clock.

Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, a black CR-V with no headlights pulled right behind them. Calista’s heart dropped to her stomach. Where did it come from?

She didn’t hear a thing. It had to be Adam because Anna didn’t react. But God, what if it wasn’t? When someone stepped out of the vehicle, all Calista could make out was a general height and build.

“Anna, crawl onto the floorboard of the backseat. Now.”

She helped ease the child over the console. As soon as she was lying prone on the floor, Calista reached for the Glock with her left hand and placed her right hand on the keys in the ignition.

Adam stuck his head into the back window.

“Shit, Adam. You almost made me pee my pants.” Calista charged out of the car, one hand planted on her hip while the other gripped the weapon.

He placed his hand lightly on the gun, lowering the barrel to the ground. “Let go, Calista.” He gently pried it from her hand. “I’m sorry I startled you.”

He stuck the gun into his holster. A slight grin touched the corners of his lips. She wanted to punch him, hard. He didn’t look sorry at all.

When he opened the back door, his daughter moved into his arms. He grabbed her stuffed elephant, quilt, and backpack, and then faced Calista.

“I want you to rethink going with us. If this hotel doesn’t work for you, I have several safe houses I can hide you in until I figure out if your identity has been compromised. You don’t have to give up anything. In a couple of days, you can return to your life and this will just be a bad dream.”

Her temper rose, but she banked it down. “How do I just walk away from that sweet girl after what’s she’s been through tonight? I did that to my best friend, and that didn’t work out so well. You don’t know what you’re asking.” A cold chill spiked down her spine. Anna reached for her hand, the pressure almost painful. “Talk to me. Tell me what I can do.”

Anna flung herself into Calista’s arms, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around her.

“It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Her gaze held Adam’s. “And don’t tell me you don’t want me mixed up in your problems. I’m right smack in the middle of it.” She reached into her back pocket of her jeans and pulled out her cell phone. “I forgot I had this on me.” She handed it to Adam. “Just toss it.”

Fear had a nasty, bitter taste that settled in the back of her throat. Giving up her cell phone meant breaking contact with Pete. What would this do to him?

Adam’s face grew tense. In fact, his whole body was one hard, taut muscle, but his eyes held a deep retching sadness. He reached over and tried to take Anna, but she wouldn’t let go. He let out a sigh and stepped back.

“Let go of Calista.”

If anything, the child’s grip grew tighter.

“We can’t stand around arguing.” Calista raised her wrist. “You said this guy could be trusted. If that’s so, will it matter if I stay with you for another few hours? I know it doesn’t make any sense. Anna wants me with you, and you can keep us all safe.”

“I don’t know that, Calista. Damn it, you can’t know that.”

She didn’t miss the anguish in his voice. “I’m willing to chance it for Anna.”

Maybe Anna’s clinging was just a desperate attempt to hold onto another female, a substitute for what she lost. Calista did the same thing after her parents died in a drunk driver accident when she was only eleven. The pain, the loss never went away.

Caring for the frightened little girl in her arms wasn’t a choice but a necessity. She strolled over to the CR-V, cradling Anna close to her chest. “This is the right thing to do right now.”

Adam reached inside his coat pocket and handed her a flip phone. “We need it to stay in touch with Pete. We’ll replace this phone with another after each call.”

“And my phone?”

“Is there anything on it that isn’t backed up some place else?”

“No.”

He dropped it onto the asphalt and smashed it with his boot heel, kicking the remains down the storage drain. “I owe you a new cell phone.”

“You don’t owe me anything…”

His palm caressed her cheek. “I owe you more than I can ever repay. Your number will come up on Pete’s phone as unknown caller. You will need to check in with him and let him know what’s going on.”

Calista did not look forward to that conversation. She replaced the phone in her pocket. “Is this yours or are we borrowing it?” she said, nodding at the black CR-V.

He pressed his lips together. “This is a company vehicle. I’ve spent too many years fighting people who had no respect for the law. I don’t break them unless I have to.” After opening the back door, he reached for his daughter. “Let go, Anna, just long enough for Calista to get settled.” Anna released her hold and went into her father’s arms.

Calista scooted over to the seat behind the driver. Adam leaned in and set his daughter behind the passenger’s seat. She leaned her head down on Calista’s lap, using the quilt as a pillow. Adam buckled her seat belt and draped his jacket over her shoulders.

Calista fussed with the jacket as Adam placed his hand over hers. She kept her eyes down. It was late and she was tired of arguing with him.

His palm cupped her chin and turned her face to meet his. Instead of expressing total frustration, his features softened, and a tender smile touched the corner of his lips.

“Thank you, Calista… for caring.” His eyes scanned the darkness. “It’s been a long time since anyone has worried about me.”

“Are you going to tell me about the telepathic thing?”

“It’s totally new to me. I…maybe we can figure it out together, but it will have to wait for now.”

His lips brushed across hers with such tenderness, she almost forgot she held his child in her lap. Calista covered his hand with hers and deepened the kiss for an instant before he broke away. He stepped back, soundlessly shutting the door of the CR-V.

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. The simple kiss released a hunger in her she didn’t know existed. For the first time that evening, she was truly scared.

(Copyright @Nancy C. Weeks September 2020)

Pre-Order Your Own Copy on Amazon

If you can't wait for more, check out Jason and Jared McNeil

In the Shadow of Greed Book 1

In the Shadow of Evil Book 2

Happy Reading. Until next week, stay safe and healthy!

Hugs to all,

Nancy C. Weeks

In the Shadow of Malice, Book 3 of the Shadows and Light series is up for Pre-Order on Amazon and releases September 29 2020. I have no idea where my hero, Adam Blake came from, but I fell so hard for him.

I left Calista Martin guilt ridden and all alone In the Shadow of Greed. She haunted me to give her a happily-ever-after. Adam was all over that. It might not seem like he's the right man for Calista, but give him a chance. This character is my favorite hero for a reason.

Here's a brief blurb of In the Shadow of Malice.

Adam Blake, ex-CIA operative, has gone to great lengths to keep his identity a secret, but his cover's blown when he ends up on the run with waitress Calista Martin to protect his little girl. Can he find a way to eliminate his enemies to be the father Anna deserves and the man Calista needs—or will he fail again, taking his future out of his hands forever?

Next week, more Calista and Adam, and you don't want to miss what happens next. Until then, be safe, healthy, and relax with a great book.

Hugs to all,

Nancy C. Weeks

In the Shadow of Malice

Shadows and Light, Book 3

Nancy C. Weeks

Chapter One

College Park, Maryland

Almost midnight, an empty parking lot, no prying eyes. Adam Blake hit the key fob, locking his sedan as he stepped out of the shadows. His senses picked up a hint of the wild honeysuckle that grew along the chain-linked fence lining the west side of Pete’s Diner. As a warm May breeze washed over him, he rolled the tension from his shoulders and scanned the perimeter. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

Frankly, the reason he kept coming back surprised the hell out of him. Even though the food was great, Adam craved the company the small diner provided. The regulars were all so damn normal. Adam needed normal.

His life had become a reflection of what he did for a living, and a drastic change was the plan, Pete’s Diner, his baby step in that direction. The occasional hour spent with familiar strangers chased away his lonely, harsh existence.

From his position, he could identify the two people who remained in the deserted restaurant. The wizened old trucker was there on his weekly run from Norfolk, Virginia to New Haven, Connecticut, and the woman sitting alone in a booth, the owner’s granddaughter. From what Adam could surmise, Calista Martin had no life outside the diner other than her music studies at the university a few miles down the road. The ever-present cello case propped on the bench next to her kept her company.

The double doors behind the counter opened and a sizeable man in a navy-blue double-breasted chef’s coat and sculled cap set a large silverware caddy on the counter. Pete Bradshaw was built like a guerrilla on steroids. Strands of blond-gray hair escaped the edges of his cap, and gray stubble covered his chin. But what stood out most was the enormous fried egg skull tattoo on his left arm, the yellow yolk resting right in the center of the left eye socket.

Calista approached Pete, her bright smile on her face sent an unusual feeling of warmth into the pit of Adam’s stomach. Taking the carafe, Pete poured coffee into a travel mug, replaced the carafe on the heating unit, and bellowed a cheer loud enough to rattle the windows. He lifted her into his arms and swung her around like she weighed nothing. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave him a quick hug before turning to the trucker and hugging him.

The celebratory moment could only mean one thing: Calista Martin posted her last assignment for her master’s degree in music performance and secondary education. For reasons he was too tired to define, a sense of pride for her accomplishments raced through him. That took a deep strength and dedication to follow her dream. Adam had one dream: protect those he loved and to stay alive one more day.

Her beaming smile pulled at Adam like a magnet, forcing his feet to step closer to the entrance. Removing her arms from around the older man’s shoulder, she paused and turned toward the window. Their eyes held before she raised her hand and motioned for him to come inside. She moved toward the door and held it open for him.

“Am I too late for a quick burger?” Adam asked, closing the door behind him.

“The kitchen is still open. Pete will make you something.”

Calista lowered her eyes and eased away from him. A hint of pink came into her cheeks. She acted the same skittish way every time he got too close. Most people gave him a wide berth, and that usually was fine with him. Calista was so open and friendly to everyone who came through the door. For some reason, it hurt that she treated him with the same wariness that everyone else did. He wanted that normal symbol of kindness she gave to others too, at least here.

The trucker set his ticket and a twenty down by the register. “Calista. Heading out.”

She stepped out of the path of the doorway. “Thanks, Nate. Be careful on the road tonight.”

“Always. And you get out of this grease-hole. Celebrate.” He placed a Nationals baseball cap on his head. “Yo, Pete. Where’s my jitter juice?”

“Watch your mouth, or the owner of this grease-hole may just spit in your next meatloaf.”

Pete’s voice was low, menacing even, but his jovial expression gave away his genuine nature. He took the travel cup, waited a second for the last drip of fresh-brewed coffee to drop into the carafe, and topped off the oversized mug.

The scent of fresh coffee wafted across the room, masking the overpowering odor of greasy fries. Adam inhaled, hoping the scent of caffeine would revive him. Pete took a cup from beneath the counter, filled it to the brim, and set it in front of Adam.

“Same-old-same-old tonight?”

Adam took a deep sip of the hot brew. “That would be great, but make it to go. If I sit here for too long, I’ll be out for the night.”

“No problem. It will be right out,” he said before facing his granddaughter. Calista busied herself with wrapping silverware into napkins and then placing them in the caddy next to the menus. Pete took out another cup, filled it half full, and set it next to her.

“I can’t drink coffee this time of night,” she murmured at her grandfather, like he should know better than to tempt her.

“Half a cup will not kill you.” A smirk appeared on his face. “Neither would a good roll…”

“Pete! God, the things that come out of your mouth.” Calista picked up the mug and brought it to her nose, taking in the scent of the rich brew. “And you can’t joke about spitting in people’s food.” She took a sip and closed her eyes. A groan of pure pleasure rumbled in her throat.

Adam almost coughed out his coffee. Calista Martin was a walking, talking sensual magnet if ever there was one. From her shoulder-length strawberry blond curls that bounced when she moved to those warm cocoa, almond eyes that made a man feel noticed, Calista was a natural beauty with a body that would give a blind man wet dreams. Her groan sent blood rushing to dormant places better left alone.

To hide the growl that slipped through his lips, he chortled. Calista gave him a hard glare but again quickly lowered her eyes. Pete let out another window-rattling laugh, which sent Calista’s cheeks and neck into a deep crimson glow. Before he returned through the swinging doors to the kitchen, he nudged her and said, “Tell Adam your news.”

“What news, Calista?”

“I just turned in my last assignment for my master’s degree.”

Adam rose and, lifting his coffee mug, tapped her mug lightly on the rim. “Congratulations. That’s fantastic.” He eased back into the booth. “So, what’s next for you?”

“After six years and 166 college credits, the only thing in my near future is uninterrupted sleep.”

Adam let out a chuckle. “Will you teach or perform?”

“Both. I have sent several audition tapes to orchestras and applied to just as many teaching positions. Now I have to see who bites. The best scenario is I’m hired to perform where I can also teach.”

When she lifted her head, her mouth opened to say something, but all she produced was a noisy breath. She darted off her stool and pointed to the corner of his right eye. “You’re bleeding.”

Adam yanked a couple napkins from the dispenser and blotted the area around the Band-Aid. A couple drops of blood must have pooled at the corner of the bandage and dripped down the side of his face. He gave the area a quick wipe, crumbled the napkin, and placed it in his pocket.

“What happened?”

“Work accident. A protester didn’t like the guy I was protecting. Threw a bottle at him but hit me instead. I should have grabbed a larger bandage.”

“I don’t think it’s nothing.” She lifted his hair away from the area. “Have you seen it? The skin is turning a nasty shade of black and blue.”

Calista moved behind the counter and pulled out a first-aid kit. She approached the table, cupped his jaw in her hand, and gently peeled off the Band-Aid. The feel of her hand on his face sent an unexpected jolt through him. He shifted out of her reach. “It’s nothing.”

Ripping open the gauze package, she folded it in half and applied pressure as she laid it on the wound. Something sharp slid over the cut, making him cringe.

“Damn, that’s not helping, Calista.”

She removed the gauze. A small, brownish piece of glass was mixed in with the blood. “Pete said you run a security firm. Maybe you need to ask for combat pay.”

“Can’t ask for more pay if it’s your own company. I practically work for free so I can give my employees combat pay.” He then eased her hand away from his head, holding down the bandage himself. “Don’t fuss.”

“You could have a concussion, Adam.”

“I don’t.” He grabbed another swatch of gauze from the kit and ripped it open. He added a squeeze of antibiotic ointment and attached it with tape to his forehead. “See, all better.”

Calista gave him a hard stare before she closed the first-aid kit and replaced it behind the counter. She picked up a bottle of cleaner and sprayed down the counter. “It’s your noggin.”

Pete came through the kitchen door and set a to-go container down next to Adam before he addressed his granddaughter. “Put that rag down. You’re not closing tonight. Pack up and get out of here.”

“You let the other waitress go home. I’m all you’ve got. Besides, we shared a ride.”

“Believe it or not, I can manage without you. And the night my granddaughter earns her master’s degree, she doesn’t close this grease trap. Take the car. I’ll catch a bus or walk home.”

Calista placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not leaving you to close by yourself and walk home. How are you going to visit Mimi if you don’t have a car? I’ll take the bus.”

Adam stood. “I can give Calista a ride home.” He reached into his coat pocket for his wallet. Placing a twenty down next to the register like the last customer, he grabbed his to-go bag and leaned his shoulder against the door. “Calista, I’m ready whenever you are.”

Calista busied herself by stuffing her laptop into her canvas bag, her fingers fidgeting with the zipper. As Adam waited for some acknowledgment, he pushed down the irritation. Others could fear him, but not Calista.

“It’s just a ride home. I’m too scared of your grandfather to try anything.”

“You don’t have to do that. The bus stop is right there,” she said, pointing toward the parking lot.

“I know where the bus stop is.” Adam reached for her large case and paused by the door.

She stood still, studying him until he almost fidgeted. “I don’t accept rides from anyone unless I know their last name.”

“Blake. Adam Blake.”

Calista glanced at her grandfather. He gave her a nod. The room grew quiet while she made up her mind. She finally shrugged and said, “I would love a ride home. Lead the way.” She reached up and kissed Pete on his cheek. “Give Mimi my love.”

“Your grandmother will be so proud of you. I can’t wait to tell her…”

He stopped as if his words clogged his throat.

“It’s okay, Pete. Mimi’s heart knows, her soul knows, and you’re right. She’s very proud of me.” Calista wiped away the tear that threatened to spill down her grandfather’s cheek. After another quick hug, she walked out to the parking lot.

Adam moved ahead of her, positioning his body so it shielded her between him and the building. A soft crunch near the dumpster sounded behind him. He froze. With his arms tight against his body, the familiar rush of adrenaline filled his veins. He shifted his position toward the dark shadows. An enormous calico cat bounced off the structure and disappeared into the bushes.

“That’s Max. He and Pete have an understanding.”

“It’s a cat. How do you have an understanding with a cat?”

“He brings Pete dead mice and Pete makes sure Max eats like a king.”

Adam chuckled. Something he seemed to do a lot around Calista. With one final visual sweep, he relaxed his stance and opened the passenger door of his Acura. This time, she didn’t hesitate, dropping into the seat and drawing the seatbelt over her chest. He loaded the cello in the trunk and got behind the wheel.

Before he could stop himself, he asked, “I thought I heard your grandmother passed away a while back. Did I misunderstand?”

“No, you heard right.”

“But you just told Pete to…”

“He drives to the cemetery every night after he closes the diner, sits next to her gravestone, and tells her about his day. A fifty-year marriage isn’t something you get over.”

“And your parents?”

“Mom and Dad died in a car accident when I was eleven. Mimi and Pete raised me.” Calista twisted so she could face him. “What about you?”

“The same. Both parents gone.”

Adam didn’t have a clue why he brought the subject up. He had no business spending time with Calista outside the diner. That wasn’t a baby step into a normal existence, but a giant leap off a high cliff. His life made him hell on relationships.

But there was just something about Calista he couldn’t ignore. Maybe it was time to see if there was anything between them. If not, he could just walk away before he hurt her, too.

“I’m sorry about your parents.” She placed a hand over his arm. They faced each other for several heartbeats before she broke away and scanned the interior of his car. “I figured you would drive some sporty number or one of those black, mysterious SUVs.”

“What’s a black, mysterious SUV?”

“One of those cool bulletproof numbers with blacked-out windows.”

“Calista, just what do you think I do?”

“You’re like Batman.” Her voice was barely above a whisper and she squirmed in her seat. “When you leave the diner, you return to your bat cave unless you’re out fighting bad guys.”

He grimaced. Now what, smartass? Lie to her, or tell her who you really are and what you do?

“Who knew music teachers had such active imaginations? I’m no superhero.”

He could never tell her what he did for a living. He didn’t choose his path, but he didn’t walk away when he had the chance, either.

“And I’m not a music teacher.”

“You will be hired so quickly, your head will spin.” He placed the key in the ignition and started the car. He backed out of the space and pulled onto the side street.

“Where are you going?” Her voice sounded normal.

Adam slowed and stopped at the light. “I’m taking you home.”

“But I didn’t tell you where I live.”

“Yeah, I guess I need that, don’t I? This is the way the Metro bus always turns.”

Calista grinned. “It’s not far. Take the second left. My neighborhood is a couple miles on the other side of the Beltway. Once you pass over I-495, I’ll direct you.”

The faded streetlights cast a fluorescent gloom over homes on either side of the street, but the lack of lighting didn’t distract from the well-cared for neighborhood. People took pride in their homes, much like the suburbs of Los Angeles, where he grew up. There was a time when someone like Calista was exactly the type of woman he dreamed of settling down with and raising a bunch of little Blakes. She had a kindness to her he sorely missed. But with the twelve jaded, nightmarish years he had on her he could never erase, that dream ended years before they met. It couldn’t exist in his reality now.

“What’s wrong? You’re so tense.”

“Sorry, my mind was on something else.”

“If you get on the Beltway here, you can get off at the next exit, avoiding all the lights.”

Adam turned on his blinker and eased over a lane. Just as he entered the entrance ramp, a stabbing pain exploded in the back of his eyes, ricocheting across his frontal lobe. An involuntary, animalistic moan escaped through his clenched teeth and he squeezed his eyes shut against the searing pain. His hands shot up to cover his head as his foot slammed down on the accelerator. The car shot across the road, jumping the curb, and hurled up a slope. Adam hit the brake inches before the front bumper smashed into the trunk of an old oak tree. His forehead smashed into the horn, the blaring sound deafening.

“Adam?”

Calista slammed the gearshift in park and shut off the ignition. She pulled his head away from the steering wheel. “Adam, what’s wrong?” She tried to remove his hands from his head, but he held on tight.

He couldn’t think or reason. The blinding pain increased until he thought his head would burst. Then the sound of a child’s desperate cry filled his head. They’re hurting Mommy! Help her!

What the fuck was that? Every word of the child’s plea seemed to cut through his frontal lobe to the back of his head. A gripping panic slammed into him as he fumbled in his jacket pockets. “My cell. Find my cell.”

Calista searched his pockets. “Here, Adam. I’ll call 911.”

“No. No!”

He dropped his head back against the seat. Everything around him faded in and out of focus—except Calista. The pain pounded between his ears as dark, red spotted dots swam over his vision, allowing only minimal light in. Sweat beaded around his eyes and screamed down his spine. He shook his head to clear his vision and grabbed the phone. It took a couple tries, but a line on the other end rang.

Calista gasped, her hands covering her mouth. “God, you’re bleeding again, but not from the wound on your head. It’s coming from your eyes.” She swiped a finger at the corner of his eye, and it came away dripping with his blood. “I need to get you to a hospital.”

He shook his head, but the pain was so bad, he froze. The phone continued to ring in his ear. Eighth ring, ninth. On the tenth ring, it connected.

“Rina.” His best friend’s name came out in a raspy whisper. “Rina.”

“Katrina is a little busy Blake. Why don’t you join the party?”

The man’s voice came out in a thick, rough, Eastern European accent. Adam recognized it and a chill spiked through him.

The agony in the scream he heard next pierced Adam’s heart. He shoved down the sharp pain in his head and allowed the years of training to resurface.

“You’re dead, Ludis. You hear me. Your fucking life is over.”

“Big words. I will carve her open, then hunt down the kid. Your kid, you motherfucker. And when I’m done with her, I’m coming for you.”

The line went dead.

Chapter Two

His muscles trembled beneath her touch as he shoved the phone into his sports coat. He pressed his temples with his fingertips and said, “I’m sorry. Your home is just two blocks away. Please, get out of the car, Calista.”

“No. I’m not leaving you. You need a doctor.”

Her voice sounded calm to her own ears, but everything in her wanted to run. Tidbits of Adam’s conversation with a man named Ludis mixed with Calista’s nightmarish visions of her best friend’s screams; Hanna Tu’s blood smeared over the walls and matted in her hair, the agony from the monster’s knife so excruciating, Hanna’s mind slipped into the darkest hell, never to open again.

Calista’s eyes filled. She shut them, bit down on her bottom lip before drawing in a deep, cleansing breath. This wasn’t the time to fall apart. Blood mixed with tears streamed down the side of Adam’s face. Air, maybe he needed air. She turned the key and hit the button on the door. The window slid down, letting in the cool night breeze. With the sleeve of her blouse, she blotted the bleeding from the corner of his eye.

Was this an aneurysm? She knew next to nothing about medicine. But damn it, eyes didn’t bleed.

“Get out, Calista. I have to go.” Adam’s voice grew weak. The last word was almost inaudible.

“You can’t drive.”

Her heart pounded between her ears, drowning out the world around her. Only Adam existed. She tried to remember her first aid lessons, but nothing she had ever learned covered this.

“It’s better. The pain is lessening.”

“Liar. Your face is as white as your shirt. I’ll drive you.”

“No! Hell, no.”

“Damn it, Adam. Change seats with me and tell me the address.”

“I can’t get you involved.”

His pain-filled voice squeezed her heart, and she silently prayed. God, please don’t let him die.

She clutched his hands in hers. “I’m not leaving you.”

Since Hanna’s death, Calista had walked out of her own life, slamming the door to the reckless, fun-loving person of her past, and hid under the shield of her grandfather’s diner for the last fifteen months. But that shield didn’t protect her from the nightmares or guard her from the violence in the world she couldn’t control. It found her anyway. As easy as it would be to open the door and step out of the car, she would never forgive herself for leaving Adam alone.

She yanked the keys from the ignition, got out of the car, and raced around to the driver’s side. She threw open the door and tried to shove him over into the passenger seat.

“Move over.”

“Give me the keys. Now.” He grabbed for them, but she stepped out of his reach. He glared up at her. “You do not understand what you’re getting yourself into. This can’t touch you.”

Calista nudged Adam with her hip, trying to force him out of the driver’s seat. “I’m not leaving.” She shoved one more time, and he scooted over the console into the passenger seat. If she could split her emotions in half, one half would celebrate a battle of wills won, while the other half was scared shitless.

“Address?”

“Take the Chevy Chase exit.”

She started the car and backed down the embankment. Spinning the steering wheel, she sped onto the ramp. Once on the Beltway, she weaved through three lanes of traffic. The adrenaline pumping through her veins kept the fear in check, and she pressed down on the accelerator. The speedometer hit ninety.

“Slow down, Calista.”

“No.”

Thank God traffic was light. She eased off the petal just long enough to take the Chevy Chase exit. “Who was that guy on the phone?” She didn’t want to know, but she had to ask.

Adam rubbed his hand behind his neck, his eyes fixed on the highway. “No one. You’re giving me a ride. That’s it. Take the next left, and for God’s sake, slow down.”

Calista spun around the neighborhood street so fast she gripped the steering wheel to keep her shoulder from slamming into the door. Her speed dropped to fifty. From the corner of her eye, she could see the color in Adam’s face return.

“How’s the pain in your head?”

“Almost gone. Take the next right.”

She slowed down and drove into an established neighborhood. She again glanced at Adam. Another blood-soaked tear streamed down the side of his face. He lifted his hand and swiped at it, leaving a smear near his hairline. “What happened on the entrance ramp?”

“I don’t know.” His voice came out in a forced whisper, and he cleared his throat. “I got this excruciating pain behind my eyes and then…I have no explanation. Next right,” he said, pointing to the upcoming street.

“There was a man’s voice on the other end of the call. He said after he carves her open…”

She clamped her jaw tight to keep the sob at bay. If Calista allowed the dam to open, she would be of no use to anyone.

Adam rested his palm over her hand clamped on the steering wheel. “No questions, Calista.” He paused then said, “You have to go on as if this was just a nightmare, but never happened.”

“How do I do that, Adam?”

He removed his hand and pressed her shoulder, the warmth easing away a little of the panic.

“The same way I do it. Time. Pull over next to the oak tree, two houses up on the right.”

Calista maneuvered the car into a spot and turned off the engine. She twisted in her seat to face him. He reached behind him and pulled a black duffel bag from the back seat. He unzipped it and pulled out a gun. She couldn’t take her eyes off the offensive weapon.

Pete made sure she could handle a gun because he kept them in the house. He told her grandmother it would be safer if she learned how to use one than to hide it away under lock and key. But Calista always hated the weapons and wanted nothing to do with them.

The handgun seemed to fit Adam’s hand perfectly, an extension of himself. Her heart drummed so loudly in her chest, it surprised her the sound didn’t vibrate off the car’s interior walls. “What do I do? How can I help?”

“You can’t help. As soon as I get out of this car, you will drive away. Understand?” His hand clamped down hard on her hands intertwined in her lap. “Look at me.”

Calista met his glare. “I can help. Pete has a Glock and taught me how to use it. I don’t understand what’s going on, but you’re not one hundred percent. You can’t go into that house the way you are…”

“No.” He unbuckled his seat belt, switched off the overhead lights on the dash and opened the door. “Get the hell out of here. Now.” His dark eyes seemed to burrow right into her heart. “Sorry about all of this. It was just supposed to be a normal ride home.”

“Adam, wait,” she whispered, but he shut the door, cutting off her reply. He placed the Glock in the waistband against his back and darted behind the car. Calista followed his progress across the street. He disappeared behind the side of the house two doors up.

Everything was eerily silent. It was as if someone clued all the nightlife into what was happening behind closed doors. Calista’ scanned the street. The few cars parked on the curb were empty. She should leave just like Adam commanded, but she couldn’t.

There was only one other time in her life that she’d felt the same gut-wrenching pull to stay put: the day she abandoned Hanna to her fate, too eager for a weekend trip to wait for her friend. That feeling she ignored, and she would pay for that mistake for the rest of her life. At Hanna’s memorial service, she’d made a vow. No matter how busy, complicated, rushed her life became, she would never turn her back on a friend again. She didn’t have a clue who Adam Blake really was, but the Adam from the diner was a friend.

“This is restitution for Hanna,” she whispered in the empty car. Before she could talk herself out of probably the stupidest thing she ever did in her twenty-six years, she opened the door and got out.

Damn, where the hell are the crickets, frogs, fireflies? What do they know that I don’t?

She crept up against the oak tree and glanced around it. Using the long shadow of the tree, she crossed the street and sprinted over the lawn just like Adam did minutes before. No lights illuminated the porch. She then ran across the driveway into the front lawn of the next house.

Staying in the shadows, she crossed into the yard, making her way onto the porch. Just as she gripped the doorknob, a crash sounded from inside followed by a loud groan. She hopped down off the porch and crunched behind a large boxwood. Seconds later, the front door smashed open, banging against the wall, and a man raced from the house. Calista curled into a tight ball. He held his shoulder, blood oozing between his fingers. She didn’t breathe, didn’t move an inch, but she couldn’t help memorizing the man’s every feature: tall, slim frame; square jaw; and long, straight, white-blonde hair. He fled down the steps onto the curved sidewalk and darted across the grass. Calista ducked further behind the bush. She watched as he scanned the porch before getting into his car. He sped down the street before he even closed the door.

Calista inched out of her hiding place. Every nerve screamed to bolt, but her feet edged closer to the door. Her grandfather’s words echoed in her head. Face fear and you control it. Avoid it, fear will swallow you whole.

This was her taking back her control. She peered around the doorway into the foyer. Adam sat on the floor with a woman covered in blood in his arms.

“Is she… dead?”

*

“Damn it, Calista. I told you to get the hell out of here.”

Did Ludis see her? The thought terrified him. He was in no position to protect her.

“The man who just left, did he see you?”

“No, and he’s gone.”

Rina’s blood pulsed against the skin of his palm. No matter how hard he applied pressure, she was losing blood at an alarming rate.

“What can I do?”

“Hand me the small sweater on the coat rack.”

Calista grabbed the piece of clothing and knelt next to him. He scrunched it into a ball and pressed it against Rina’s chest wound.

It took him only seconds to disarm the two men with Ludis. When he lunged toward Ludis, the bastard panicked. He pierced his knife through Rina’s chest, tossing her body against Adam. The wound was too deep. Nothing he did would matter, but he had to try.

“I’m calling an ambulance.”

“Put the phone down, Calista.”

“You can’t help her.”

“I know. No one can.”

She breathed in sharply. Then she glared at him in shock and scanned the room, settling on the two dead men. One lay sprawled across the Oriental rug, his neck twisted in an odd angle. The second was slumped faceup over the back of the sofa, with two large knives wedged into his abdomen and chest.

He broke eye contact with Calista and glanced down at his friend. White, searing anger raged through him. His chest heaved with lack of oxygen as his heart hammered.

“Adam.” The faint whisper filled him.

“Rina. God, hang on.” He brushed the hair from her face and lifted her closer so he could hear her.

“Ludis… he knows…they both know.”

“Shh, don’t talk…”

“No. Listen. Vasnev knows–”

“Knows what? Rina?”

She touched his face with her blood-covered fingers. He swallowed a sob that threatened to choke him.

“Everything.”

Adam shook his head. “No, that’s not possible.” A fist clamped down on his heart and squeezed. How could Vasnev know they lived, that Anna existed?

The moment they had discovered Rina was pregnant, Adam planned their deaths so carefully. Several witnesses reported Rina’s car ramming the guard rail and flipping off the cliff in the Brenner Pass. His taped execution by a radical group in a hole in Afghanistan, perfectly implemented. Adam’s passing was still talked about in the halls of the CIA six years later.

He swiped another strand of matted hair from her cheek. “We were careful.”

“Anna. Promise—she needs you. Keep her safe.”

Rina’s eyes closed.

“Stay with me.” He patted Rina’s bruised cheek until she opened her eyes. “I can’t do it alone.”

“Promise. Anna. Promise.”

“Of course.”

Her gaze locked on his as her hand caressed his cheek, then fell to her side as if it weighed a ton. With a slight nod of her head, her body trembled, and went limp in his arms.

“Rina! Don’t you dare leave me.” Adam gently lowered her to the floor and began chest compressions. “Anna needs you. I need you.”

The blood gushed out of the long gashes in her abdomen with each compression.

The air shifted, and he glanced at Calista. She had knelt next to him and wrapped her arm around his waist, resting her head against his back. With her other hand, she covered his hands. Rina’s blood seeped through his fingers, staining her palm.

“She’s gone, Adam,” she said, her face wet with tears. “Who is Anna?”

“Rina’s four-year-old daughter.”

Calista placed a hand on his shoulder. “Where is she?”

Adam observed Calista’s mouth move, but her words didn’t register. The blood smeared over his palm did. An icy vengeance crept into his heart, keeping it beating. Ludis would pay. Adam would make him pay.

Calista shook him hard. “Where’s Anna?”

The desperation in her voice knocked him out of the trance. He stood abruptly and stepped back from Rina’s body. Closing his eyes for only a moment, he focused on two unbeatable forces from within: the soldier and the father. When he opened his eyes, there was no doubt what he had to do. He yanked out the tail of his shirt and wiped his hands. “In the panic room upstairs. Follow me, but touch nothing. Understand?”

“Yes.” She shot him a glare, then her eyes softened. “I understand.”

At the staircase threshold, he stopped again. “I mean it, Calista. I don’t want anyone to know you were here. Your name can’t be linked with mine on a damn police report.”

“But how…”

“I can’t explain now. I have to get you and Anna out of here.”

The upstairs hallway had four doors. He opened the third door down and entered a child’s room, glancing to Calista. “Remember, touch nothing.”

Moving over to the closet, he pushed the clothes away. On the shelf behind the books, he found the hidden metal panel that matched the bookshelves perfectly. He tapped the right corner, and a small door popped open, revealing a touch pad. He punched in an eight-digit code and stepped back. The wall slipped away. A steel door stood in front of him with another keypad. This time, he punched in a code and an iris scanner popped out. Adam placed his eye in the circular disk. It took seconds for a thin light to swipe his eye before the door whooshed open.

He nearly stumbled in his haste to get into the spacious playroom. “Anna?”

His voice cracked. She wasn’t there.

“Anna, baby girl, where are you?” He searched the hiding places behind the sofa and furnishings. He stopped in the middle of the room and listened. Calista stood silently in the doorway.

After a couple of seconds, a faint whimper came from the wardrobe against the back wall. Adam swung open the door and lifted the child curled into the fetal position into his arms. He dropped to the floor and rocked her back and forth. “Anna, talk to me. Are you hurt?”

Burning fear sliced through every nerve as his hand roamed over Anna’s shoulder, arm, and leg, searching for injuries. The hint of berries and vanilla from her shampoo mixed with the coppery stench of Rina’s death. The two scents didn’t belong in the same universe.

Anna had captured his bitter heart seconds after she was born. It was his job to protect her. He wrapped Anna’s trembling body tighter against his. How much did she see? Did anyone see her? The thought of Ludis’s hands on Anna made Adam want to rip the man’s liver out and shove it down his throat.

How in the hell was he going to tell his precious Anna about her mother?

He brushed her hair out of her face. “Look at me, baby.”

Her arms circled his neck, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. Not a sound came from her lips, but she clung to him with such trust as if he would fix everything, make her world normal again.

“I got you, Anna. Are you hurt?”

“No, but Mommy…”

“I know, sweetheart.”

Her body shook as wrenching sobs took control.

Calista stood so still behind him. Why the hell didn’t she drive away like she promised? She brought normal to his life. In return, the horrors of his life spread out on the living room floor, branding the scene in her mind forever.

A hand touched his shoulder. “Adam. We have to get her out of here.”

Once again, his mind churned to order. He stood, wrapped Anna tightly against him. “I need your help.”

“Just tell me what to do.”

He wrapped his free hand around her neck and drew her close to him. Her body heat, her unexpected steadiness settled him as he impulsively pressed his lips to Calista’s forehead, then released her.

He grabbed the red backpack out of a compartment above the door of the wardrobe and handed it to her. He then reached into the wardrobe for a worn stuffed elephant. “There’s a quilt in the trunk,” he said, pointing to the piece of furniture in front of the sofa.

When Calista reached for the lid, he caught her hand.

“Sorry. Touch nothing. Got it.” She shrugged the pack over her shoulder and used her foot to open the lid. She pulled out the quilt. “What else does she need?”

He scanned the room. “The photo—next to the sofa.”

The framed picture was of Anna with her arms wrapped around her mother’s neck, both with huge smiles on their faces. The backdrop—the large ape house at the National Zoo. Adam couldn’t be seen with them, but he watched them, took photos. The memory of that day sliced another deep hole into his heart as he tore open the back of the frame and removed the photo.

Calista picked up a short stack of children books on the nightstand and slipped them inside her purse. “Now what?”

“Hand me the quilt.”

He unfolded the blanket and covered his daughter’s head. “We need to get the hell out of here. Fast.”

“You lead, I’ll follow.”

He re-locked the safe room and sprinted down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Anna held his neck so tightly, it made it hard to breathe. At the bottom step, he paused at the sight of his best friend’s dead eyes. Rina had been part of his life for ten years. No one knew him like she did.

When he stepped out of her life so she could have the type of relationship he couldn’t give her, they found a new depth to their friendship. In a split second, it was all gone. Red, murderous fury filled him with dark thoughts of revenge intermingled with sorrow and regret.

“Adam?”

There wasn’t time for hatred or mourning. He headed down the hallway through the kitchen. The door to the basement stood ajar.

The scene in front of him wasn’t Ludis’s style. He left nothing for chance. But this time, he was all over Rina’s home. Why would Ludis make sure there was nothing to find?

Then it hit him. The answer was so clear. “Son of a bitch.”

He grabbed hold of Calista’s forearm, rushed into the kitchen, and stopped near the back door. He then peeled Anna’s arms from around his neck and leaned close to Calista’s ear. “I need to check something. Take Anna, but don’t let her remove the quilt from her face.”

He eased the basement door open and raced down the stairs. It took only a moment to find Ludis’s little package. Enough C-4 to blow the house to hell and back. How long before Ludis set off the C4 was anyone’s guess.

It took him less than five seconds to get back to Calista.

“Adam, what’s wrong?”

They were on borrowed time. “I need you to take her to the car. Backtrack through the neighbor’s yard. Stay in the shadows.”

Calista’s eyes widened. “She doesn’t know me.”

It took everything in him to keep from shoving her out the door. Adam didn’t have time to be nice. He had one job, protect Anna and Calista. He removed a corner of the blanket from Anna’s face. “Sweetie, this is Calista. She’ll take care of you.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t leave me.”

Adam rubbed his temple when a sharp pain pierced through the back of his head and he met the wide, frightened eyes of his child. “I need to take care of your mommy and the house.” With a nod to Calista, he recovered Anna with the blanket, and opened the back door.

He took a moment to watch Calista until she was out of sight before he entered the living room and knelt next to Rina. “We… You were safe here.” His voice broke. He removed the pearl ring on her left finger and the medallion from around her neck. He shoved them in his coat pocket. With one last caress against her cheek, he rose and moved toward the basement door. On the wall leveled with the top step, he opened the fuse box panel door, flipped the switch he had added months before, and shut the door. If Ludis blew the house, the safe room would go up with it. By the time forensic identified all the human remains and discovered Anna wasn’t among the dead, Ludis and Emil Vasnev would no longer be a threat to anyone.

Calista had just closed the passenger door with Anna in her lap when he joined them. He soundlessly opened the back door of the sedan.

“Calista, please get in the back.” He lifted Anna out of her arms. Once Calista settled, he set Anna on her lap, buckling them both in the same safety belt. “Keep your heads below the window.”

He shut the door and ran around the back of the sedan to the driver’s door. He got in, started the car, and pulled away from the curb without headlights. After coming to a silent stop at the end of the block, his eyes met Calista’s. “I’ll explain everything.”

Just as he turned the corner, a blast ricocheted throughout the quiet neighborhood, shaking the ground. The small home erupted into flames and lit up the night sky in an orange glow. Debris scattered into the street as windows rattled and cracked, setting off several home security alarms throughout the block.

A heart-wrenching moan escaped Anna’s lips. Calista raised her head and peered out the back window. “Good God, Adam. What the hell just happened?”

“Head down, Calista.” He winced at the harshness in his tone, but he didn’t bother to retract it. They faced each other in the rearview mirror. How did it get so fucked up?

He turned another corner and wound his way out of the neighborhood. When several police cruisers barreled toward him, he eased over to the side of the road. Once the emergency vehicles passed, he switched on his headlights, pulled out onto Connecticut Avenue, and took the exit onto the Beltway.

“Adam?” Her voice was breathless. “Did you…”

“No. Ludis.”

Color drained from her face as she held Anna close to her. “He blew up the house knowing…?”

“He wants us both gone.”

“Why?”

“We’re in the way of what he considers his.”

“But she’s just a little girl.”

“And my daughter. We both stand in his way.”

GET YOUR OWN COPY

As I have said before, Jared McNeil and Jennie McKenzie hold a special place in my heart. This was my first finished novel. And, this couple still lives in my head. By now, they have kids and a whole life together. Maybe one day I might just write it all down.

If you haven't had a chance to check out Chapter One or Two, you don't want to mess it. CLICK HERE!

I hope you enjoy the read. If you know someone else you think might enjoy my incredible sexy McNeil brothers, please share the post.

Stay safe and Healthy!

Hugs,

Nancy C. Weeks

In the Shadow of Evil

Book 2

Shadows and Light

Chapter Three

Fells Point, Baltimore

Louise Cunningham yanked the long, thin tube across the living room behind her from the ever-present oxygen concentrator and dropped gently into the chair by her window. She had made herself a cup of coffee, but her body acted as if she’d walked five miles. She reached over to the nebulizer that sat on the small end table next to her chair, switched it to the on position, and placed the tube-like mouthpiece between her lips. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her breathing while she inhaled the medication her lungs required. With her chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) in its final stage, living on oxygen twenty-four hours a day was her life. And she spent much of her time in her favorite chair gazing out over the neighborhood of Fells Point.

The three-story brownstone had been Louise’s home for sixty-five years. Her doctors wanted her to move into an acute care facility, but she kindly suggested they go fly a kite. Louise still had things to do.

A negative energy surrounded her beloved neighborhood. Everyone was on edge, especially Jennie. Her boarder had been tightly strung since the day of the drive-by shooting eighteen months ago of Quinton Torres. What kind of person guns down a young boy? How anyone get over watching a ten-year-old boy bleed out on the sidewalk?

“How’s it going, Mrs. C.?” Danny Merlot’s face poked up against the window screen. “Is Ms. McKenzie home?”

Louise removed the mouthpiece, holding it to her chest. “Danny, you almost gave me a heart attack. Don’t sneak up on old people like that.”

“Sorry, I thought you saw me. So, is Ms. McKenzie home or not?”

Louise studied the young boy. “Those pants were designed to wear at the waist. If they were any lower, you would be tripping on them.”

Danny yanked up his Solos pants. “Ah, Mrs. C., that’s how we wear them now.”

“And you better not let Jennie see you with that cap, young man.” Louise pointed to the worn-out baseball cap popular with the largest gang in the city. Danny yanked it off his head like he forgot he had it on and stuffed it into his back pocket.

“Jennie isn’t home yet. Can I help you with something?”

Danny’s gaze darted up and down the street while his fingers nervously tapped the windowsill. “There’s something I wanted to talk to her about. It can wait. Thanks.” Without waiting for a reply, he moved away from the window and sauntered down the sidewalk.

As Louise followed Danny’s abrupt departure, Jennie pulled into the parking space in front of the brownstone. Something had happened. Louise could tell Jennie had been crying. Placing the mouthpiece back on the nebulizer, she stood and made her way to her front door. If she wasn’t standing in the foyer when Jennie came in, Jennie would run upstairs and Louise would never find out what had her so upset.

*

Jennie slammed the car door and hurried to the front of the brownstone. She had been driving around for more than an hour, afraid to come home. What if Noah sent a patrol car after her? What would Mrs. C. and her neighbors think if the police dragged her off in handcuffs?

She ran up the front steps, opened the outside door to the brownstone, and let herself into the cool foyer. This was her home, her sanctuary.

The stairs in front of her led to her own apartment on the second floor. The double oak doors to her right were open and standing in the doorway was Mrs. Cunningham. Forcing a smile on her face, Jennie approached her friend.

“How are you doing today, Mrs. C.? I need to run upstairs for a moment, but I’ll be down to fix us something for dinner. How does tilapia sound?”

“I could tell before you even got out of the car that something is wrong.”

“Things just didn’t go as smoothly today as I had hoped,” she said as she followed her friend into her apartment.

Louise dropped down on the sofa and patted the space next to her. “So, who made you cry? If it was that Jared, I swear I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

“I only saw Jared for a moment, but had a run in with his obnoxious brother, Noah.” She glanced down at her lap. “I kind of hit him in the middle of a squad room, made his nose bleed.”

“You hit a police officer? I have never seen you lose your temper.”

Jennie shrugged. “You have never seen me with Noah McNeil. He brings out the worst in me.”

“In that case, you need to stay away from him. If he can’t see the kind person you are it’s his loss.”

“That’s the plan.”

“What did he say to make you slug him?”

“It’s not really what he said, but what he implied.” Jennie took one of the sofa pillows and wrapped her arms around it, hugging it close.

“Which was?”

“That’s a long, complicated story.”

“Am I going anywhere?” Louise asked, pointing to the tubing in her nose.

Jennie shifted her position on the sofa to stare out the window. The only person in her life who knew all her secrets was her godfather, Father Michael Sweeney.

Louise reached for Jennie’s hand. “I know the kind of person you are inside. If you felt you had to strike that man, I’m sure he deserved it,” Louise said, with conviction.

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Start wherever you feel most comfortable.”

“It could change your opinion of me.”

“That’s not possible.”

Just tell her. Jennie took a deep cleansing breathe and stood. “I’ll be right back, Mrs. C.”

A few minutes later, she returned with a thick, brown case folder and sat down on the coffee table in front of Louise. Rubbing her hand over the folder, she said, “A few months ago, I asked one of my student’s parents who is a detective with the BPD for this file.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the police report on my father. I had so many questions about the day he died.” She opened the file, removed a picture of a young man in a police uniform, and handed it to Mrs. C. “That’s him, my dad.”

“He was a very handsome man. You have his eyes.”

“Right after he made detective, he got involved in this case that took all of his time. I never understood what really happened to him until I received this report.”

“Sometimes it is better to leave well enough alone.”

“Maybe I should have.” She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “I now know how my parents really died.”

“I thought your parents died in a car accident when you were ten.”

“They died on the same day. It was just easier to let everyone believe that’s what happened.”

“Did you discovered that from reading that file?”

Jennie glanced over at Mrs. C. Her cheeks were swollen and flushed, a side effect of her drug treatment and there was a constant strain in her eyes. “You don’t need to hear all of this. I should start dinner. You must be starving.”

“Jennie McKenzie, don’t you dare start treating me like a weak old bird who can’t deal with a little upheaval. I get enough of that crap from those well-meaning women who prance in and out of here from St. Luke’s. You need to talk, and I’ll be fine.” The last words were said almost breathlessly.

It was a moment before Jennie could bring herself to continue. She flipped through the folder and dug out a newspaper clipping of a group of politicians posing in front of a building scheduled to be demolished and replaced by a large sports complex. A man stood in the back row, his face circled several times in red ink.

“That man’s name is Elías Mendoza. He is pure evil and I have felt the evil here,” she said, pointing to her heart, “since the day my parents died.”

Unable to sit any longer, Jennie paced the room, pressing her fisted hand to her heart. “It hurts all the time. He watches me. He touches every part of my life and destroys anybody I love. He strikes without remorse, leaving nothing but fear and sorrow behind.”

“How did your father know this man?”

“Dad witnessed Mendoza’s father, Arturo, brutally murder a businessman in an alley off Franklin Street in D.C. After Dad arrested Arturo and processed him, he had a heart attack and died while in the holding cell. Within the hour, Elías Mendoza had my father picked up two blocks from our home. He was tortured…his body used as target practice. At the same time, he ordered his men to come after my mother and me.” Jennie walked over to the sofa and picked up the case file, opening it to a series of photos. “I dream what’s in these images.” Sinking back onto the sofa, Jennie placed her hands over her face, but the horrific crime scenes were embedded on her mind.

“He orchestrated my mom’s car accident to coincide with the death of my father within minutes of each other. The only mistake Mendoza made was that I didn’t die. I woke up in the hospital and he was sitting at my bedside.” She slammed her eyes shut, her breathing erratic.

Louise reached for her hand. “Jennie, it’s okay.”

“You know when you have a nightmare, and your heart beats so hard against your ribs you think everyone must be able to hear it? That’s how I felt in his presence . . . how I still feel in his presence.” Jennie gently pulled her hand out of Louise’s grip and wrapped her arms around herself. “I tried to lie very still with my eyes shut tight. He reached over, touched my hand, and spoke to me in Spanish, ‘Usted vive, porque yo lo permito. You live because I allow it.’ He stood and walked out of the room.”

Jennie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “For the next six years, he was a dream, a nightmare, but then I met him, but I was too naïve to connect him to my father.”

“Did he come for you?”

“Apparently, he has kept track of me since the day my parents died. But, when I was sixteen, I made stupid, selfish, mistakes.” She glanced at her friend. “My choices have caused so much pain for the people I care about.”

“You don’t have a selfish bone in your body.” Louise ran a hand down the back of Jennie’s head. She was silent for a moment then said, “Tell me how you met Mendoza.”

For the next several minutes, Jennie re-lived the four months she lived under his roof, meeting Jared, and finally describing Nick’s death.

“Why would Mendoza keep you and your brother? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“At the time, I couldn’t figure out why Mendoza was so nice to us. It’s not in his nature to do something for someone else unless he can gain from it. We saved his life, but that’s something he expects from the world. I’m sure the men sitting with him that day are fish food.”

Jennie’s nails dug into her palm. “We were in that house because of me. All of this, Nick’s death, the drive-by shooting of Quinton Torres, is about me, and Mendoza is at the root.”

“When was the last time you had any contact with him?”

“I haven’t seen Mendoza since the day Nick died. But I feel him all the time. It’s spine-chilling. I can’t see him, but he’s watching me.” She faced her friend. “I sense Jared, too, but that’s very different. I have trusted Jared since the day we met, and I can’t explain why. But Jared would die to keep me safe.”

“You listen to your gut.” Louise wrapped Jennie in her arms. “How I wish I could take this pain from you. No daughter should witness such horrific things about her own parents.”

“Mendoza is responsible for Quinton’s death. He was there. The police, they listen, and then do nothing because I can’t give them anything to go on.” She rested her head on her friend’s shoulder. “He’s coming back for me. It’s going to be just like eight years ago. He has to be stopped.”

*

A large pizza box and paper plates covered the surface of the coffee table. For the last hour, there was very little conversation between the two women. The only sound in the room was the constant hum of Mrs. C.’s oxygen concentrator. A light, cold rain fell steadily outside, the gloomy picture matching the mood inside. Wrapping her arms around herself, Jennie rested her head against the cold window glass and wondered if Jared had found the check.

“Please sit down, Jennie.” Louise’s voice was gentle, but firm.

Turning to face her friend, Jennie said, “Can I get you anything, Mrs. C.?”

“Just sit next to me, dear.”

“It’s getting late…”

“I have not gone to bed at eight o’clock since I was five, maybe not even then.” Louise repositioned the nasal cannula in her nose. “You can’t go after this man on your own.”

Not wanting to lie to her best friend, Jennie said nothing.

“There is no way on God’s green earth you can face him with only the self-defense classes you have taken.”

Louise’s last words were gasped for air.

“I never should have said anything. Look what I have done.” Jennie squeezed a capsule of medication into nebulizer’s cup, switched the machine to the on position and handed the mouthpiece to Louise. “Don’t talk. Just breathe.”

Louise took in a couple of breaths, inhaling the mist, but then yanked the mouthpiece free, the medication evaporating into the air.

“Stay away from that man.” Each word came out in a short, raspy breath. “Promise me.”

“Mendoza controlled the drug trade in Baltimore several years ago but had moved on to richer waters. He’s back. Once I prove that…”

“I’ll call Father Anthony up at St. Luke’s. He can get in touch with your Jared. I’ll tell him what you are up to. I can’t lose you to that maniac.”

“You can never call Jared. I’m to blame for what happened to him in Mexico. It’s why his brother hates me so much.” Jennie repositioned the mouthpiece, switched on the machine and slipped the elastic band around her friend’s head. “I’ll tell you, but only if you keep this in place.”

“Fine, but no sugar coating it. Just tell me like it is.”

“Three years ago, Jared went undercover and infiltrated Mendoza’s organization.”

“But Mendoza knows Jared’s a cop.”

“He changed his appearance and used his contacts to ensure a minion position to keep an eye on Mendoza. But the bastard pegged him the instant he entered the country, playing a cat and mouse game with him for weeks. He then…Jared was held in this dark hole…tortured just like my father.” Jennie clutched her father’s photo to her chest. “And I witnessed it, every detail.”

“How?”

“Dream…vision…I can’t explain what happened that night. But it was real. I called Noah and gave him everything I saw.” Jennie raised her chin and met her friends stare. “Noah hates me, and he’s not alone in that. Every time I close my eyes, I see the reverse cross that bastard carved into Jared’s chest—exactly like the one in my father’s chest. The image never fades, never goes away.”

Louise pulled Jennie into her arms. “What happened to your parents and your friend are Mendoza’s sins, not yours. You could still ask Jared for help.”

“I can’t bring Mendoza back into Jared’s life. That’s one promise I’ll never break,” she whispered.

“Then there has to be someone else you can tell. Mendoza is just a man, Jennie. You make him sound like he has superpowers.”

“Please, Mrs. C., finish the treatment.”

Jennie lifted the nebulizer’s mouthpiece from Louise’s lap.

“Fine, but talk to me,” Louise said, inhaling the mist into her inflamed lungs.

“It’s the evil in him. It gives him power, which feeds his obsession for me. He doesn’t care for or even like me. But no one is allowed to get close. Nick idolized him. Mendoza despised Nick because I loved him. I have this inexplicable channel into Mendoza’s thoughts. What if that channel is two-way and Mendoza tortured Jared because he felt the connection Jared and I share?”

How could she explain to this marvelous woman that it was her fault Mendoza wasn’t rotting in hell? Before she could stop them, the words came tumbling out. She picked up the police folder. “This file connected all the dots I’ve been missing for years. I’ve been so blind, so stupid to miss the feelings I have.”

Louise removed the mouthpiece and asked, “What feelings?”

“That creepy chill in my spine that was present when the faceless man sat on my hospital bed—the same feeling I had when I saved Mendoza from choking. Same feeling, same man.” She forced herself to face Louise. “Where is my sin in all this? I saved the life of the man who brutally murdered my parents.”

Chapter Four

Fells Point, Baltimore

Three hours later

I don’t like this. God I don’t like this at all.

Jennie tried to tighten the harness around her waist, but her hands trembled. Repelling over the roof didn’t frighten her. The building across the street did.

She rubbed her boot over the icy slush covering the surface of the rooftop then leaned over the edge to check for any ice developing on the side of the building. Water pooled near the edge, but so far, temperatures remained warm enough to keep them from freezing completely.

“Okay, only rain, a little slush, no ice,” she whispered to an empty rooftop. There were at least eight hours of battery left to power the older-than-dirt camera she had hooked beneath the eaves. She glanced at the thick snow clouds covering the moon. The burned-out streetlight in the next block added to her cover.

Tomorrow night was a full moon. Any chance of repelling undetected would be lost. The weather may not be ideal, but she had to change the batteries tonight or chance missing data.

She turned and studied the townhouse. There was no record that Mendoza had any connection to the property, but he was part of whatever was going on behind its closed doors. His foul presence enclosed the property like a thick dark fog.

The neighborhood was Mendoza’s territory ten years ago. His men were loyal and stayed with him for years. If she could identify one of his old employees leaving from the building, maybe she could convince the police to take another look at Quinton’s death.

The police didn’t believe her when she tried to tell them Mendoza was back. The bastard still controlled the drug routes into her neighborhood. Someone will mess up and she’ll be there. Or at least her cameras will. One way or another, she would avenge that happy faced little boy whose life was taken before he had a chance to live.

She attached the rope to her harness and inched her way over to the edge of the roof. She had repelled many times off rock walls while in college. This wasn’t that much different. She was anchored securely to the roof. If she couldn’t climb back up, she could always repel to the ground and collect her ropes.

Jennie checked her harness and hardware one last time. She slipped on her gloves then placed her toes on the edge of the roof.

“Jennie McKenzie, what in blazes do you think you are doing?”

Father Anthony stepped out onto the roof from the stairwell and charged over to her. He grabbed the rope and gave it a tug.

Jennie eased her grip and took a step away from the edge. “Good grief, Father Anthony, you scared the crap . . . I mean what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” His deep baritone voice reverberated off the buildings, but he had only whispered his question.

Heat crawled up her neck into her cheeks. As the new music minister of St. Luke’s, the man in front of her wasn’t just one of her few friends but her employer.

When her godfather accepted the position in Rome, Father Anthony became her mentor. And he wasn’t a typical priest. He spent the first thirty years of his adulthood as a member of U.S. Army Special Forces. When he retired, he went into the seminary. One look at the expression on his face, and Jennie had no problem seeing the soldier behind the reverent, priestly garments. She wasn’t going to have an easy time explaining herself.

She took another step away from the edge and swallowed. “I’m changing the batteries in the cameras. It’s perfectly safe.”

“Perfectly safe . . .”

“I secured the lead rope to the brackets holding the HVAC units to the roof. They aren’t going anywhere.”

“Good God, Jennie,” he whispered, pent up frustration evident in his voice. “How many laws have you broken? And don’t think for one minute you can stand there and tell me you were safe hanging over the side of a five-story building with only a rope as your safety net. There’s a better way. Let me call in someone…”

“My problem. My plan.” Jennie didn’t have very many friends and Father Anthony was one of the few people she trusted. She hated upsetting him. But if anyone understood what she was fighting for, he did. “I can’t take a chance I missed someone involved.”

“How long are you going to keep this up? And with this out-of-date equipment?”

“It was free, and it works.”

“You need to turn this whole mess over to the people trained to do this kind of thing before I have to identify your flattened body in the city morgue.”

“Again, the people who are trained to do this don’t believe me. Father A., why are you here?”

“I was visiting with a family in the building and saw you heading for the roof. Poor Mrs. Perez must think I’m stark raving mad the way I dashed out of her apartment.” He pulled the collar of his coat up over his ears, picked up the excess rope. “But I can tell that nothing I say is going to keep you from carrying out your crazy plan. I might as well see that the people in this building don’t have to wake up with you splattered all over their front step.”

Jennie sucked in a breath. “You’re going to help me?”

“I want something in return before you dive off the roof.”

“What?”

“This is the last time you do this. We’ll find another way. I want your word on it.”

“I can’t give you that.”

“You think this is up for negotiation?” He glared at her. “I want your promise that this will be the last time you roam in the middle of the night, scaling over rooftops to repair those dilapidated cameras. I also want your promise there will be no more hacking of any kind looking for evidence on Mendoza.”

There had been people in her life she could eventually sway, but never the man in front of her. It must have been the cassock.

“I’m waiting, Jennie.”

She looked out over the rooftop then back at Father Anthony. “I promise this will be the last time.”

Father Anthony nodded and braced his boot against a cement block. Jennie gave him a quick hug and repositioned herself before he changed his mind.

“I can do this,” she said, bracing her left hand on the ropes at her waist and her right hand holding the section of rope around her back. She then stepped back to the edge of the roof and propelled herself into the air, controlling her descent down the side of the building for about four yards.

She pulled herself up against the brick and reached for the camera with her left hand while she held her descent with her right hand. She tried to flick the release button on the battery cover, but her wet gloved hand just wouldn’t cooperate. Using her teeth, she pulled the glove off each finger. While she held the soggy glove between her teeth, she released the latch and pulled out the battery. She slipped it into her pocket and took out the replacement. In seconds, she had the battery in position and the casing closed.

The climb to the roof was always the most difficult part of the exercise, but how was she going to replace the glove with only one hand.

She pulled the glove from her mouth just as an eerie feeling of being watched danced across her skin. Scanning the street in both directions gave her nothing. She gripped the rope and spun around to face the house across the street. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but someone was there, the prickly goosebumps never lied.

She eased the glove opening with her teeth and wiggled her fingers into the section that rested on the center of her palm.

“Jennie, are you okay down there?”

“I can’t get my glove back on.”

“Why did you take it off?”

“I couldn’t unlatch the button on the battery casing. Can you hold me so I can use my right hand?”

“I have you. Just be careful. It’s icing up.”

Jennie released her right hand and quickly tried to yank on the glove.

“Shit.”

Anthony’s panicked whisper reached Jennie just as she dropped, her stomach plummeting with her. A gasp escaped her lips and the glove slipped from her fingers. The rope immediately went taut and she grasped it with her bare hand, her descent jerking to a stop. She clutched the rope with both hands as her body slammed against the bricks of the building. Her body twisted and she spotted a faint light turn on in the third story window. The dim light cast a shadow on the side of the house. Movement caught her eye and a man’s form appeared, his body plastered against the siding. The light switched off, she blinked, and he was gone.

As her heart hammered, she used all her strength and climbed the rope until Father Anthony dragged her over the edge.

“Are you okay?” The priest helped her stand.

Jennie began to remove her harness, but a sharp pain in her left hand stopped her. Raising it up into the dim light, she studied the long, red rope burn that ran across her hand from the middle of her fingers to the center of her palm. She couldn’t stop the moan.

“That’s got to hurt. I can bandage it back at St. Luke’s,” Father Anthony said, coiling the rope.

“A man, maybe six feet tall, hid in that shadow at the edge of the house. He backed behind the bush and disappeared.”

“Are you sure? Why didn’t he warn the guys inside the house?”

“I don’t know, but let’s get out of here.”

A deep grumble came from Father Anthony’s throat. “Last time, Jennie. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

*

Jared eased behind the large column and stood in the shadows of the sanctuary of St. Luke’s. Ceiling lights beamed over the altar, casting a light glow on the cross. The rest of the sanctuary was bathed in flickering candlelight. With his back against the cool marble, he took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the familiar scents of incense, burning candles, and wood polish.

From his position, he had a clear view of the woman sitting at the grand piano. Jennie McKenzie. Except for the few moments in the squad room, it had been over two years since he stood this close to her.

There was a time he didn’t go a week without seeing her. After the fiasco on the Mendoza’s lawn, he should have disappeared from her life. But for some reason, he couldn’t stay away. His protective instincts wouldn’t allow him to rest until everything in her world was safe. Then a friendship like none other he ever experienced formed between them. Jennie had an exuberance for life, she lived every minute to its fullest. But it was her quiet maturity that drew him to her. Her very presence settled him and filled a hole that not even his twin could touch.

But after his screw-up in Mexico, he cut Jennie out of his life almost completely. It was the only way he could protect her. The painful scars he earned at Mendoza’s hands he could live with. What woke him in the middle of the night was the faceless voice from his dreams—Protect her. You are her only chance.

Night after night, the message screamed in his head. Ending all contact with Jennie was his only choice, but it was a damn hard one. The sick bastard watched her sleep, teach, live—and Jared was powerless to stop him.

The special FBI taskforce led by Jared’s brother Mac was finally closing in on Mendoza. Mac needed Jared completely off Mendoza’s radar. In order to ensure Jared stuck with the plan, Mac went against the brother code and obtained his superiors’ support. Jared would have done the same thing in Mac’s shoes. But relying on others to keep Jennie safe was hell. Mac’s team, who watched her every move, didn’t know her like Jared did. If they did, then they would know something was off.

He rested his head against the column and listened to the hauntingly sad music coming from the piano. As Jennie’s fingers waltzed across the keyboard, a tear slid down her cheek. Whatever gut-wrenching pain she was trying to rid herself of through the music, it wasn’t working. Every note echoed what could only be a deep hurt—the kind of hurt that dug itself into the darkest crevasses of the heart. Just listening to her pain ate away at him. What the hell had he missed that would cause this kind of grief?

Jared stepped out of the shadow and waited for her to notice him. It didn’t take long before her fingers froze on the keyboard.

“Jared,” she whispered.

He took another step closer. “Hey, Jennie.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He strolled up the side aisle, keeping as much in the shadows as he could. The one question he wanted to ask all day came stumbling out of his mouth. “How could you just run off like that? You know Noah. He’s all bark. He never would have…”

“You shouldn’t be here.” Her expressive, deep hazel eyes widened as she searched the sanctuary. When Jennie turned and faced him, her features were clouded with fear.

Jared straightened his stance and his hand went to his weapon. “Who else is here?”

“No one, except Father Anthony.”

“Why are you so spooked? Hell, Jennie, you look like you are about to jump out of your skin.”

Jennie stood and lowered the piano lid over the keys. “It’s just late. I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

Damn. What the fuck?

“I think that is the first lie you ever told me.” Jared took several steps, closing the space between them. Even in the dim light he could tell his words affected her. He reached for her hands clutched in front of her. His fingers rubbed against several layers of gauze wrapped around her left palm. He lifted it so he could get a better look. He couldn’t see what was under the bandage, but the skin was red, and blisters formed on each finger joint. “What the hell? You didn’t have this earlier.”

She yanked her hand free. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“That’s two lies. And this,” he said, holding up her hand, “is definitely something. How did it happen?”

In all the years they have known each other, Jennie never tried to close herself off from him. In fact, he teased often that her eyes gave away exactly what she was thinking. But not tonight. She was definitely hiding something.

Where was the smile that lightened his mood, or the hug that stayed with him for hours? Could the distance he placed between them have finally led her to stop believing in him? The idea, crushing.

“Why did you come to the station today?”

“I left you a note.”

Jared edged in close enough that her citrus and jasmine scent surrounded him. She didn’t back away but she kept her gaze on the floor. “Since when do you need to leave a note? Why didn’t you just let me know you were coming? I’m would have been there to meet you.”

Jennie brushed a hand through her auburn shoulder length hair while her eyes darted everywhere but at him. So many emotions passed across her features—desperation, guilt, sadness.

“Jennie, what’s wrong?”

“Read the note, Jared. It’s all in there,” she replied in a hushed whisper.

It took everything in him to keep from blaring out where she could stuff the damn note. “You could always talk to me before. What’s changed?” He cupped her face with both of his hands. His thumb caressed the tender skin along her jaw. “Please don’t shut me out.”

“You’re not here, Jared. I can’t…won’t—”

“Won’t what? Count on me, trust me?”

Shaking her head, she reached out her uninjured hand and flattened it against his chest. Her touch sent a jolt straight to his gut and he swallowed, hard.

She pulled back. Jared placed his hand over hers, capturing it against his chest. He traced his thumb along the outside of her wrist. Her pulsed raced against the fabric. “I’ll always be here for you—do you understand? You have to know that.”

“I’ve always trusted you, Jared. But I’m not that stupid kid anymore. I’m all grown up.”

“You were never a stupid kid. Maybe too trusting, but never stupid.” He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I stopped treating you like a kid a long time ago. All I want to do is help if I can.”

She dropped her arms to her side. “You can’t ride in and fix my problems. I need to fight my own battles.” She glanced over his shoulder at the entrance. “You shouldn’t even be here. You said we had to stay away from each other so…”

“Is this the result of you fighting one of those damn battles?” Jared lifted her injured hand.

The space between them went cold, empty. Unable to stop himself, he drew her back into his arms. Jennie gripped hold of his arms and her gaze bore into him. There was such longing in her expression which went against everything she said to him. “Don’t push me away like this. I need—”

He didn’t understand what came over him, but he brought his lips to hers until they barely touched. Every sense awoke at once, the heat of her breath on his lips, her body molding itself to his, the scent of her wrapping him in a sensual cocoon. All that missing was taste. He had to taste her.

Their gaze held, and when Jennie didn’t pull away, he curled his hand around the nape of her neck and covered her mouth with his. At first, there was tenderness, gentle, giving her time to shove him away. She matched his desire with her own, taking everything. And he loved her taste, mint, vanilla, and there wasn’t a tentative bone in her body. How had he missed this primal, sexual connection between them? Where in the hell did it come from? How long had it been staring him right in the face?

Jared’s hand caressed her spine landing at the base. He drew her into him. Jennie arched her back until there was nothing separating them but their thin layer of clothing.

The nails clutching his shirt relaxed. Jennie planted her hands on his chest and gave a slight push. It almost didn’t register. Then she broke the kiss. Her head rested on his chest while she caught her breath. Jared buried his fingers into her hair and cradled her to his chest.

Shit! How was he going to walk away from her now? How was he going to breathe without touching, holding, making love to her? He just opened a Pandora’s box he had no desire to ever shut.

“Jared?” Jennie’s voice was winded as she tried to speak.

“I know, Jennie.”

She raised her head and met his gaze. “We can’t…I can’t.”

“I know.”

He rested his forehead against hers. He was going to step away and leave her here. There was no other option for him until Mendoza was stopped. Mendoza will use Jennie to hurt him. He had to let her go. But what he unleashed tonight could not be taken back.

A door slammed from somewhere in the church. Jennie moved out of his arms. “That’s Father Anthony. He’s here to walk me home.”

“I can’t leave without knowing you’re okay.”

She leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine, far from it. And that’s lie number three.”

“You have to go.”

Jared cupped her neck and drew her to him. “It will not be like this forever. We have something damn powerful between us, and one day we’re going to see where it leads us. Believe in me, Jennie. Trust me like I trusted you. Can you do that?” Without waiting for her to answer, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, then the tip of her nose, ending on her lips. The kiss ended way too soon. He lifted his eyes and met hers, then stepped behind the large column just as the priest entered the sanctuary.

“Are you ready to go, Jennie?”

She stood alone at the piano with her eyes closed. The priest strolled up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Jared didn’t miss the concern in his voice. Jennie turned and faced her friend. “Yes, just drained.”

“After your evening, I don’t doubt it,” the priest commented. They both turned and left the sanctuary using the door near the altar. Jennie never turned back.

Jared stayed in his location until he was sure he was alone. He moved from behind the column and approached the altar. He genuflected as his mom taught him many years ago. Raising his eyes to the man on the cross, he prayed, “Help me keep her safe.”

~~~

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Check it out for yourself. Buy links, just clink the image. Enjoy Chapter One -Prologue- and Chapter Two. Don't forget to come back next week for Chapter Three if you still need convincing.

In the Shadow of Evil

Book 2

Shadows and Light

By

Nancy C. Weeks

Chapter One

Anne Arundel County, Maryland

Prologue

Damn it, Nick. Stop ignoring me.

Jennie McKenzie loosened her grip on her cell phone and dialed her foster brother again from the passenger seat of the SUV. Pick up. Pick up. God, please pick up.

Nick didn’t know it yet, but they were getting the hell away from Mendoza—today. And if Nick tried to talk her out of it, she would drag him out by his ear.

When the call went directly to voice mail, a gut-wrenching dread cramped her stomach, forcing acid into her throat.

Why wasn’t he answering his damn phone?

Her tension spiked when the vehicle slowed and stopped on the shoulder of the two-lane country road. Jennie tore her eyes away from the silent cell phone and glanced over at the man in the driver’s seat.

Jared McNeil. Not one of Elías Mendoza’s thugs, but a cop, an undercover cop.

Her racing heart settled with a glance. The calming effect Jared had on her was crazy. Jennie didn’t trust anyone except Nick. But somehow, she trusted the man sitting next to her.

A low growl came from the back of Jared’s throat. “Jennie, I need your decision.” His hands fisted on the steering wheel and the tiny muscle in his jaw pulsed. “I have no grounds to remove you from Mendoza’s home. But since you’re a minor, and we arrested the two men with you at the testing center, I can at least place you in protective custody until we contact your caseworker.”

“What about Nick?”

A pair of robins flew in front of the passenger window from the tall oaks lining the road. They momentarily perched on the hood of the SUV then dashed off to the other side of the lane. That simple display of carefree abandonment cut deep into Jennie. As her fingers dug into her palm, she let out a shaky breath and asked, “I can’t leave without him.”

“I tried to talk to him. He blew me off. By placing you in protective custody…”

“No. I won’t go anywhere without Nick.”

Jared’s expression flipped from concern to frigid. It was like a curtain dropped down, cutting off his emotions.

Jennie lowered her head, her gaze on her lap. “Nick isn’t … he doesn’t warm up to people well. But Jared, he’s not Mendoza’s lackey.”

She was wasting her breath. His jaw was clenched and the muscles in his arms and shoulders grew taut. When his gaze met hers, she winced. He couldn’t hide how unhappy he was with her.

“Nick isn’t just my foster brother. He’s my best friend and has had my back since my parents died. I can’t leave him with Mendoza. He’ll turn Nick into a carbon copy of himself.”

“Any replies to your call?”

“It’s going right to voicemail.”

Last month, Nick turned eighteen, and Mendoza’s gift, a job with his organization. Nick was living a dream, and enjoying a glimpse into a lifestyle he would never belong. Her brother replayed Mendoza with his loyalty to the point he was copying his mannerisms, the way Mendoza walked, dressed and even his speech patterns. That fact set Jennie on edge like nothing else.

“Maybe that’s your answer. He wants to stay with Mendoza. You can’t make Nick into something he’s not, Jennie. He’s been in the foster care program his whole life. That changes a person. He isn’t like you.”

“You’re wrong about Nick. And, that’s not what is going on here.” Something was off. If only she could talk to Nick … or Father Michael. Her godfather was on a mission for the Vatican in a remote area of South America, and Jennie hadn’t been able to reach him during the chaos and upheaval of the last four months.

Then a sudden thought struck her like an open-hand slap across the face. Her gaze darted to Jared. “Shit, you can’t . . . damn it, Jared. Not Nick! You can’t use him to get to Mendoza.”

“Jennie—”

“No. Leaving him behind—you would be turning him into what you believe he is.” And that would rip my heart in two.

Jared shook his head and started the SUV. The turn-off to Mendoza’s long driveway was less than a mile away. Once they pulled into the private road, Mendoza’s cameras would pick them up, which left very little time for Jennie to change Jared’s mind. The walls inside the cab closed in on her and she struggled to breathe. Don’t back down.

“You spoke to your caseworker?” His voice was controlled—almost calculated.

“She’s arranging a place for us to stay.”

Jared let out a noisy sigh, reached for the key in the ignition, and turned off the motor. “Mendoza’s obsessively protective of you. Why?”

It took a moment for Jennie’s mind to form an answer. “I saved his life.”

“It’s more than that.”

Jennie could only nod. She didn’t have an answer. All she knew for sure was that her soon-to-be guardian was soulless. He watched her, studied her like a bug under a magnifying glass; he made her skin crawl. It wasn’t sexual. There was something far more sinister than lust in Mendoza’s eyes. His very presence caused her spirit to shrivel.

She couldn’t face Jared. It was too hard to see the disappointment in his eyes. So instead, she faced the front window. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I know nothing about Mendoza, never met him before that day in downtown Little Italy.” She closed her eyes and inhaled a cleansing breath. When she opened them, she peeked at Jared who stared at the massive estate that could barely be seen through the trees. She cleared her throat and said, “He was choking and none of the men with him did anything to help. I think they wanted him dead. And I’m not sure I blame them.”

Jennie’s mind began to replay the crazed nightmare. That moment on the sidewalk when Elías Mendoza’s brooding, dark eyes had held hers, the universe shifted. There had been something familiar about him, and for some reason, his presence sucked the life right out of her. Paralyzed and breathless, she had been unable to move.

She watched Mendoza reach for his fork and swallow a bite of pasta. In a split second, his eyes widened and he darted from his chair, grabbing his throat. Nick had tugged at her arm, then jumped the concrete barrier separating the restaurant from the sidewalk and tried the Heimlich maneuver. But for all his efforts, Nick couldn’t dislodge the obstruction. His plea for her help had finally penetrated her dazed state and she joined Nick on the patio. She didn’t have the strength to lift Mendoza, but she did have first aid training. She repositioned Nick’s hands. After several abdominal thrusts, the large bite of shrimp broke free.

“Why didn’t Mendoza just hand us a twenty and have us removed from his sight? We were nothing to him.” Jennie let out a shaky breath. “He manipulated the foster care program so we could live with him. We were in his home that night. The system doesn’t work that fast. None of it makes any sense.”

“Last chance, Jennie,” he murmured. “I turn down Mendoza’s private drive…”

“I’ll never turn my back on Nick.”

She shifted toward the front window. Jared let out a string of obscenities that made Jennie cringe. He turned the key and drove the last quarter of a mile, turning left onto the narrow road. The vehicle’s wheels crunched on the gravel of the circular driveway near the front entrance. Beyond the house, manicured lawns covered three acres extending into woodland.

She gazed out at the helicopter sitting on the heliport behind the pool and tennis court. She faced the man next to her. Jared was working undercover to take down Mendoza and planned to use Nick to help him. If she couldn’t convince him to back off, he was going to get himself, and Nick, killed.

“I’ve known Elías Mendoza for four months. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

“I know who Mendoza is, Jennie.”

“I’m not some stupid kid. You’re only what? Five years older than me?”

“Seven. So?”

“Mendoza is…I sense what’s inside him, and you’re crazy if you think you can fool someone like him.” Jennie ignored the shiver that wracked her body. “And you want to use Nick—” She gulped in a deep breath and exhaled. “My mom would’ve called Mendoza the Devil.”

“Then let me get you the hell away from here. Once you’re inside, I can’t protect you.” He forced the words through clenched teeth. “Look, Nick knows what he’s providing Mendoza. He’s not innocent, but he’s still a kid, a stupid kid.” Jared rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted to turn him, have him work with us. With his hacking skills, he’s our best way into Mendoza’s organization. But I get it, bad idea.” He placed his hand over Jennie’s fisted hands. “We’ll find another avenue. I’ll go in for him. You stay here. Hide on the floorboard.”

“Nick won’t leave with you, but he’ll listen to me. He’ll come just because I ask him to. I have to do this.” Worried Jared would try to stop her, she opened the passenger door, grabbed her backpack at her feet, and raced up the steps of the red brick colonial. The soft fragrance from the begonias, lavender, and sweet peas blooming in the beds near the door assaulted her senses, causing her to slow.

How did such beauty thrive here?

Wrenching her mind away from the familiar scents, she burst through the front door, her heart pounding. The guard in the foyer stepped out of her path as she scurried passed him.

“Miss McKenzie, is there something wrong? Can I help you?” he asked, but Jennie ignored him and jogged up the curved staircase, her sneakers squeaking on the polished hardwood.

“Nick, where are you? Damn it, answer me.”

She hurried into her room and barely glanced at the thick, padded wall covering, lush carpet, or opulent furnishings. Like the rest of the house, it was a pretty shell, and it left her cold. She tugged her backpack off her shoulders. Opening the numerous drawers in the walk-in closet, she yanked out only the items she originally brought into the house. Everything Mendoza purchased was left untouched. She wanted nothing from him.

When she didn’t find Nick in his room, she opened his closet door, and reached into his hiding place for a small box of odds and ends he’d saved over the years. Pulling a couple of his favorite T-shirts and jeans off their hangers, she stuffed everything in her pack.

After a quick check of the second floor, she headed downstairs and ran into Mendoza’s personal assistant.

“Where’s Nick?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Talk to Mendoza.”

Elías Mendoza’s private study was in the wing at the back of the house, so she ran to it. She shoved passed the guard and reached for the doorknob. He yanked her hand away, placing his body in front of the door.

“You have certain privileges on the estate, Miss McKenzie, but no one gets through this door without this.” His hand held a black metal detector. Jennie raised her arms. After the guard ran the security wand along her body, he allowed her to enter.

She stormed into the private domain that few entered.

“Where’s Nick?”

The immaculately dressed man behind the mahogany desk didn’t bother glancing at her. His fingers toyed with a gold pen while he spoke on the phone.

“We will be landing in five hours. I want my orders carried out. No, nos entendemos? Bueno,” he said before laying the handset on the desk. When his dark eyes met Jennie’s, she stepped back. He wasn’t a tall man, but his intense, sadistic personality spewed power.

“Rudeness doesn’t become you, Jennifer Marie. You forget yourself.”

His glare bore into her, his facial features hard as stone. She had seen the look before, but never had it been aimed at her.

“I can’t find Nick.”

Mendoza leaned back in his chair, flipping the pen back and forth between his fingers. “So much concern for that mutt. As you can see, he isn’t here.”

Jennie’s fist tightened. If only Nick could see the contempt in his idol’s eyes right now. “My brother isn’t a mutt.”

“He’s no relation to you. Have you finished your packing? The plane to Mexico City leaves in an hour.”

Jennie cleared her throat and tried not to stutter. “It’s time for Nick and me to leave. I appreciate everything you have done for us, but we don’t belong here.”

“Is that so?”

She swallowed, keeping eye contact as her pulse beat between her ears. She was surprised the sound didn’t echo against the walls. “We appreciate that you want to reward us for helping you, but there’s no need.” She shrugged. “We would have done the same for anyone. You don’t need to saddle yourself with two teenagers when you’re moving back to Mexico.”

Mendoza’s eyes traveled the length of her. “I’m your guardian, Jennifer Marie. Where I go, you go.”

“Not yet. The official papers haven’t been signed.” Jennie glanced everywhere except at him.

“And how do you think you are going to accomplish your dreams of college living on the streets of Baltimore?” He clenched his hands together and rested them on the desk. The silence that followed was deafening. “My people are still trying to locate your godfather. What will he say when he finds out I allowed you to go back to living in an abandoned building like a city rat?”

Heat rose in Jennie’s cheeks. “The building wasn’t abandoned, just old.” She wasn’t a runaway. People loved her, cared for her. Her godfather would move heaven and earth for her. But the man in front of her saw only what he wanted to see.

“We’re not going back to Baltimore. I contacted Mrs. Arnold, my foster care caseworker this morning during one of the SAT breaks.” Jennie fussed with her cotton skirt. “There was a big misunderstanding. Mr. Stephenson is fine. Nick only knocked him out. We thought…well he’s alive and well.”

She forced down the lump in her throat and shuddered at the memory of the last family she had been placed with. She could still feel Mr. Stephenson’s hands on her body, pinching her breast, trying to force his tongue down her throat. The memory made her want to heave her breakfast muffin and coffee. And the way his body dropped to the floor, the horrid sight of blood staining the carpet after Nick slammed the base of a lamp over his head, still gave her nightmares.

“And your plan is to turn your back on all I can offer you for what? To live under the roof of a child molester?”

“No, of course not. Mrs. Arnold will find us another family until we finish high school next year.”

She couldn’t pull her gaze away from his. Contempt and scorn radiated from his pores. Jennie held her breath and stiffened her leg muscles to keep from fidgeting. When Mendoza finally spoke, his voice was laced with something Jennie had never heard before.

Hatred.

“Jennifer Marie, who else did you speak to during your break?” He broke eye contact, his concentration fixed on the computer monitor on his desk.

My God, he hates me. Why am I here?

“No one.”

“I don’t believe you, mi querida.”

Jennie couldn’t breathe. His eyes turned black, cold. The stench of revulsion filled the air.

He knows. God, he knows about Jared.

Mendoza eased back in his chair. “We haven’t spent much time together during your stay. That’s my fault. I thought you understood.” He faced her. “No one betrays me.” He reached for the monitor on his desk and turned it toward Jennie. When she didn’t break eye contact, he nodded to the monitor.

“Your actions have consequences.” His voice was so calm, it chilled her to the bone.

Oh, Nick. Where are you?

Mendoza rose and moved beside her. His hands grabbed the sides of her head and forced her to face the monitor. The security camera overlooked a patch of lawn off the rear patio by the pool. Several of Mendoza’s men circled a man with dark hair grown down below his shoulders. His t-shirt clung to his athletic body. It took only seconds for the horror to slam home.

“Nick? No, make them stop!”

Each man took a turn striking Nick, his face beaten almost beyond recognition. Blood streamed from his eyes, nose, and mouth. His knees buckled and he dropped to the ground. One of the men kicked him in the ribs.

Jennie began to tremble. She yanked out of Mendoza’s hold and dashed to the French doors. Mendoza grabbed a fistful of her hair and heaved her up against him.

“This is what happens when you betray me, mi querida.” He clamped hold of her elbow and dragged her through the French doors. Her feet stumbled on the stone slab of the patio, but he didn’t slow his pace.

When he reached his men, Mendoza yanked her arms behind her and held her against him. Nick’s bloodshot eyes bore into hers. He screamed when another foot landed on his kidney.

“Make them stop. They’ll kill him. God, please make them stop.”

Mendoza took her face in his hands. “It’s time for you to make a choice.”

“What choice?” Jennie sobbed.

Mendoza twisted her in the direction of the pool. “Which man lives?”

Four men dragged another man toward them. It took every man to hold him. He fought like a caged animal. Jared. “What have you done?”

The right side of Jared’s face was turning a dark, blackish-blue color, and blood pooled at the corners of his mouth where his lip had been split open. His left forearm jutted out from his elbow with an unnatural tilt.

Mendoza gripped Jennie’s jaw and forced her to meet his gaze. “Jennifer Marie, which man do you choose?”

“I don’t understand. Let them both go. I’ll do anything.”

A loud crack echoed across the lawn. The eerie sound bounced off the trees and vibrated back at them. The next instant, a bullet pierced Jared in the right upper thigh. A wet stain of blood seeped through his trousers. His leg collapsed from under him and he stumbled. One of the men grabbed hold of his broken arm and heaved him back up. A roar full of pain escaped his lips.

Jennie’s eyes darted toward the location of the shooter. All she saw were trees. She wrenched herself free of Mendoza’s hold and dove in front of Jared, blocking his body with hers.

“You made your choice.” Mendoza headed toward the helicopter.

Men in police uniforms and FBI jackets charged the lawn, guns drawn. Mendoza’s men froze before all hell broke out. A couple of men lifted their guns but were hit in the chest before they got off one shot. The rest dove for cover.

Jennie heard none of it. Her heartbeat drowned out all sound. Everything around her grew silent, still. All her focus was on Elías Mendoza as he stepped into the helicopter. He turned and their gazes held. He was a good thirty yards away, but every word hit her, loud and clear, as if he stood right next to her.

“Mi querida, they live because I allow it. You live because I allow it. Usted pretence a mí. You belong to me. Only me.”

Jennie couldn’t move. For an instant, her nightmares collided with her reality.

You live because I allow it.

Six words—night after night, year after year. The dreams had begun right after the death of her parents six years ago. A faceless man hovered over her and those words echoed in her head until she jolted awake.

Oh God. How is Mendoza connected to her parents?

Jennie’s hands went to her throat. She couldn’t catch her breath. Stop him, don’t let him get away screamed inside her head, but she couldn’t move. The doors slammed shut and the helicopter lifted into the air. The next instant, a bullet grazed her arm. Jared slammed her body to the ground as another shot sliced through the air inches from her head.

She searched for Nick. His eyes met hers. He struggled to his knees and stood.

“Nick, drop,” Jennie screamed, but her warning was too late.

Time slowed.

The third bullet whizzed over Jennie’s head and sliced into Nick’s cotton shirt. In her mind’s eye, she saw the slug tear through his skin, and then bone, until it perforated his heart.

“No!”

A sharp stabbing pain erupted from deep inside her. On her hands and knees, she crawled across the grass to Nick. She lifted his head in her arms and slammed her hand down hard on the hole in his chest. Warm blood pulsed against her palm and seeped through her fingers.

“God, don’t leave me. Nick?” she cried, but nothing came from the eighteen-year-old boy in her arms. His lifeless eyes stared up at her. She dragged his shoulders into her arms and rocked him back and forth as she wiped the sweat, blood, and tears from his face.

“Jennie, he’s gone. Get down. There’s a sniper in the woods,” Jared yelled, shielding her body with his.

“No. He can’t…” The words clogged her throat. “He can’t leave me.”

The childhood pact they had made to each other flashed into her mind. His silly handshakes, his laughter, the warmth in his dark brown eyes when a nightmare tore her out of a deep sleep—it was all gone. Nick was gone.

Jared placed his hand over hers. “Jennie, there’s nothing you can do for him.”

Her eyes met his before she broke contact and cradled Nick’s head in her arms. “Mendoza killed Nick. He may not have pulled the trigger, but he ordered it. Why?”

“I don’t know, but he won’t get away with it.” Jared gaze followed the helicopter as it flew out of sight. “I’ll find him, and he will pay.”

Jennie heard the words but didn’t respond. Nick was gone. For the first time in her life, she was completely alone.

Chapter Two

Pikesville, Maryland

March, Eight years later

Pull it together.

Jennie banged her fist on the steering wheel. This date had been marked in her calendar for months. The debt that had haunted her for eight long years would be paid, and she could move forward with the next chapter of her life. But instead of feeling liberated, her nerves were raw.

Maybe she should’ve put this off a day. A sleepless night of horrific dreams and spending hours in a classroom with twenty-five ten-year-old students drained her.

As Jennie waited for the traffic light to change, her gaze fell on the imposing red brick building in front of her. The light dusting of snow and sleet that covered the sidewalk and grounds contributed to the austerity of the structure. Just reading the sign, Maryland Department of State Police Headquarters, made her palms sweat.

What if he’s not there? God, what if he is? This was the first time in two years she would come face to face with Jared McNeil.

A cashier’s check made out to him for $30,000 was in a white envelope in her purse on the seat next to her. She had scrimped and saved until she could pay back every dime—restitution for a mistake for which she would never forgive herself. The money was her way of releasing Jared, breaking the cord that bound them.

Jared McNeil. Out of my life.

The idea terrified her. She was nothing but a clueless teenager in his eyes when they first met, but hell, his dark brown, wavy hair, cobalt blue eyes, and smoking-hot body did something to her sixteen-year-old heart. That hadn’t changed. In fact, when those amazing eyes smiled at her, warmth pulsed from the tip of her head to her toes—and everywhere in between. But nothing could ever become of those feelings. It was long past time for her to yank the adhesive bandage off a festering wound. It didn’t matter she wanted him in her life as much as she needed air.

Elías Mendoza would never leave Jared alone.

She could still see Jared beaten, his arm hanging to his side all those years ago. The scene never went away, nor did Jared’s words asking her to go into protective custody.

If only I had listened to him.

Mendoza hadn’t stopped there. He waited for Jared to come after him, his sick plan in place. Jennie tried to shake the horrific image of three years ago, but the memories haunted her even during her waking hours—never allowing her any peace.

Jared handcuffed to a chair in one of Mendoza’s hellholes, his body covered in blackish-blue bruises and his chest carved up like a turkey, bleeding to death. He’d gone after Mendoza so she would be free of the sick bastard’s obsession.

The madness stops today. She would pay her debt and take the bastard on. If he wants her so bad, he can have her, but he will never hurt anyone she cares about again.

As soon as the light changed, Jennie drove across the intersection and eased into the parking lot. She zoomed in on the entrance as her heart pounded in her head. You can do this, you have to do this. Sucking in a deep breath, she left the sanctuary of her car.

She stepped inside the entrance and glanced around the glass-enclosed lobby. Everything was exactly as it had been eight years ago: the same blaring florescent lights, the same sterile industrial furnishing, and the same hard plastic chair she sat in waiting to be questioned.

“How can I help you, miss?” a male uniformed officer asked from behind the counter.

Clenching her fists, she stiffened her back and approached him. “Yes, I would like to see Detective McNeil, please.”

“Which one?”

Damn…Of course…walk out the door. Now!

“Miss, I don’t have all day.”

“Ja . . . Jared McNeil,” she stuttered.

“Do you have an appointment with the lieutenant?”

“I didn’t know I would need one.”

“Miss, he’s a busy man. Usually people don’t just walk in off the street to gab with him.”

“Of course not.” Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. Clutching the strap of her handbag, her gaze darted around the room as she tried to come up with a plan B.

“Miss?”

She handed the envelope to the officer. “May I leave this with you?”

He turned it around in his hand. “What is it? There’s no name or anything,” the officer said and handed it back to her.

“Oh, sorry.” She reached in her purse and removed a pen. With clean, precise letters, she wrote out Jared’s full name and title. “Is there anyone I can leave it with?”

“I think Doria is working this shift. She may be able to get it to him. Give me just a minute.” He picked up the desk phone, never taking his eyes off her.

“Doria said you can bring it on up. Just take the stairs to the third floor.”

Nodding her thanks, she headed toward the stairs. Her heart ached. It would be easier if she didn’t see him. But that meant she would walk away without one last smile or the feel of his arms around her…without one final embrace.

Mistakes came with consequences and it was time she faced hers. Elías Mendoza was alive, free to destroy everything he touched. The moment she said good-bye to Jared, one way or another, she was going to stop Mendoza.

On the third floor, Jennie approached the front desk right inside the doorway. A woman who looked to be in her sixties greeted her with a generous smile. “Jackson downstairs said you had something you wanted me to give to the lieutenant.”

“Hi. My name is Jennie McKenzie.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. McKenzie. Everyone around here calls me Doria. I’m sorry, but Lieutenant McNeil is in with his team and can’t be disturbed.”

“I should’ve thought of that. It was rude of me to just drop in like this.” She retrieved the envelope from her purse and handed it to Doria. “Can you give this to Jared when you see him?”

“What do you have there? Can’t be too careful these days,” Doria replied, as she turned the envelope over in her hands.

“It’s personal, but if you need to see it, I can open it for you.”

“I see,” Doria said, studying Jennie. “Have we ever met, Ms. McKenzie? I’ve seen you somewhere before, but I just can’t seem to place you. I never forget a face.”

“I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Doria snapped her fingers and pointed at Jennie. “I know,” she said with a wide smile. “Aren’t you that young teacher in the Baltimore Sun this morning? I saw a picture of you with all your students. I have it right here.” Doria began to flip through the sections of the Sun lying on top of her desk and pulled out the style section.

“Finalist for Teacher of the Year! What an honor for someone so young.”

Heat rose in Jennie’s cheeks. “Yes, that’s my fifth-grade class. I still don’t know how I was selected.”

“You were chosen because you deserve it. I’m a very good judge of character, Ms. McKenzie, and you’re what I call good people.” Holding the letter out to Jennie, she said, “I think you’re safe enough. Just set it on his desk. It’s the open door on your left.”

A little overwhelmed, Jennie thanked Doria and walked the short distance to the back corner of the large squad room. Squaring her shoulders, she entered Jared’s office and stood still, taking it all in.

The scent of leather and Jared’s musky cologne lingered in the air. No plants or family pictures crowded the bookcase or desk, but his overpowering presence filled the space.

Since the day Jared McNeil had entered her life, she had developed a strange talent of being able to feel him. It was like a sixth sense that let her know he was close, and she was safe. There was no explanation that explain her reaction, especially since she was so incredibly nervous around him.

She eased to the edge of his sofa and took a moment to compose a note.

For once, I’m glad I live halfway across the state from you. I can see your expression: Tight jaw, eyes almost black—you’re not very happy with me. I discovered your secret. There never was a special tuition endowment. You were the endowment. I know you never wanted me to discover what you did, nor did you expect me to pay you back, but I need to, for me.

Tell Noah I didn’t rob a bank. I saved every penny and have the books to prove it. Your brother will never trust me while you seem to have an infallible trust in me, something I’ve never earned or understood. If you tear up the check, I’ll just have another one issued. Besides, you can use it on the next stupid, harebrained teen who finds herself in your path.

What Jennie couldn’t bring herself to write in the note screamed inside her head. You are the first person I think of when I wake up every morning and the last person I pray for before I go to sleep. I will do anything necessary to keep you safe. He will never hurt you again because of me.

She swiped a tear from her cheek, signed the note, and stapled it to the envelope. Taking one last look around, Jennie left the office.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The cold, deep baritone voice, so much like Jared’s, came from behind. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stood stiff as a statue.

Jennie faced Jared’s identical twin. Of course, it would be Noah, the universe’s cruel joke. Just when she thought she was free—wham! She was sucked right back in.

“I asked you a question, Jennifer McKenzie, and you damn well better answer me.”

“Noah McNeil, I swear if you don’t stop hollering at this young lady, you’re going to have to deal with me,” Doria said, placing herself in between Jennie and Noah. “I gave her permission to put something on Jared’s desk, which is none of your business.”

“It damn well is my business when it concerns my brother and this bitc…”

“Don’t you dare use that kind of language in my presence, young man,” Doria commanded. “I washed your mouth out with soap plenty of times in your life. Don’t think I won’t do it again.”

Jennie stepped back and bumped into a desk. Noah’s hatred was nothing new, but it tore her heart to pieces.

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and stared. Jennie wanted to sink into the crack of the linoleum floor. The scene would be hilarious if she weren’t in the middle of it. Doria had to be at least a foot and half shorter than Noah, but she could hold her own. She was one scary lady. Maybe she gave lessons.

Taking note of Doria’s example, Jennie squared her shoulders. Noah was almost the mirror image of Jared: same height, same dark brown hair that in a certain light appeared black, deep cobalt blue eyes that sparkled with laughter, but darkened to black when angered.

But the similarities ended there. Jared appeared hard on the surface, underneath the persona he presented to the world was one of the kindest men Jennie had ever known. And while Noah appeared approachable, even fun-loving, he was as hard and unforgiving as they come.

“I’m here to leave something for Jared. If you would move your gargantuan, pigheaded self, I’ll leave.” Jennie shifted around him, but he blocked her move.

With his voice barely above a whisper, Noah asked one more time, “What are you doing here? I distinctly remember you gave me your word that you would stay away from him. Does your word mean nothing?”

Nick’s famous saying rang in her head: Never show pain to the enemy. Sadly, that was how she viewed Noah. He would destroy her without a backward glance, but he was the person in Jared’s life who meant the most to him.

“My word is everything. I’ve stayed away since Jared returned from Mexico. No contact.” She swallowed and took in a shaky breath. “I’m not here to make any trouble. Please, just get out of my way so I can leave.”

“You’ve been trouble from the second he laid eyes on you. Haven’t you caused him enough pain?”

“I hate what happened to him, and I know it’s my fault, but I never meant…”

“You’ve done nothing but cause him pain. Do I need to remind you of the scars that bastard carved into my brother, or the condition he was in when we got him back home?” Noah reached over and grasped hold of Jennie’s upper arm.

“Let go.” Jennie instinctively jerked her arm free. Her elbow shot up and whacked Noah’s nose, drawing blood.

“Son of a bitch.” Noah’s hand covered his nose. Blood began to drip down the back of his fingers.

Jennie broke free and stepped back. She met Doria’s gaze. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” She rushed past the older woman and headed toward the stairwell.

She didn’t get far. Noah grabbed her arm and pinned it behind her back. Jennie tried to pull free, but his hold tightened.

“Now, Noah, you don’t want to do that,” Doria said, placing a hand on his arm.

“Yeah, I do.” He removed the handcuffs hooked to the back of his belt loop and began to cuff her.

“Let. Her. Go.”

Jennie faced Jared as he closed in on them. The steel cuff dug into her skin and Noah’s fingers bruised her arm, but she felt nothing. Jared’s presence usually calmed her, but not today. Waves of shame and embarrassment washed over her.

“Like hell I will.” Noah swiped the blood draining from his nose with the corner of his sleeve.

Jared grabbed his twin’s wrist just as he placed the second cuff on Jennie.

“I won’t ask again.”

The brothers’ stormy eyes held each other for a moment before Noah released her arm.

Jared lifted Jennie’s chin so their eyes met. “Are you okay?”

“What the hell, Jared?” Noah interrupted, blood streaming from his nose.

Jared grabbed a box of tissues off Doria’s desk and tossed it at Noah. He removed the cuff, flung it across the desk and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close. Addressing the squad room, he said, “The show’s over. Find something to do or I’ll find you something.” Everyone flinched and hurried to look busy.

He faced Jennie, his voice low. “Please, come back to my office.”

“No.” Jennie shrugged his arm from her shoulder. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Jared moved toward her.

“Please let me go,” she whispered. Her eyes filled with tears and she choked down humiliation as she backed further away from both men.

Without another word, she raced down the stairs.

*

Doria stood quiet during the whole exchange. “I’ll see that she makes it to her car, Jared.” He nodded then his gaze fell on his brother.

“Are you a complete ass?” Jared stiffened his arms to his side. He wanted nothing more than to jab a fist into his twin’s face.

“No, bro, but you sure the hell are.”

Both men moved within inches of each other, eyes narrowed, bodies tense. The room was dead quiet as several members of their team stood by prepared to pull them off each other.

Jared broke the silence. “You’re wrong about Jennie. She’s not one of Mendoza’s moles.”

A low grumble came from Noah’s throat as he glared at his brother. “I have nightmares too, damn it, and Jennie is right in the middle of all of them. The next time you go against Mendoza to protect her, none of us will survive it.”

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