Rogue Launch, page 2
Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
My chest tightened painfully as my brain tried to throw a bunch of childhood memories at me, and I wouldn’t go there. Well, I tried not to. I couldn’t. Work assignments, work assignments. Tariq and I had a meeting on Monday with the guys in our New York office. Madison was gonna come in late. Crew had a new client. Jane had always been so happy to see me.
I screwed my eyes shut and thanked my lucky stars Piper couldn’t see me behind the fridge door.
“Blake caught him in a weak moment,” Piper explained. “She made him promise to come up and just see what she’s learned at swimming practice.”
I clenched my jaw and swallowed hard. This couldn’t fucking happen. I saw Joel precisely one time every year, at Blake’s birthday party, and that was it. I had to mentally prepare myself for that too. At least for a few days. Because I just couldn’t look him in the eye without wanting to kick his goddamn ass. I didn’t hate easily, I really fucking didn’t, but that guy… I despised him with every fiber of my being.
I closed the fridge door and looked at my sister. We had the same silvery-blue eyes, but I’d never managed to use mine to get my way.
“Why is he still in our lives?” I asked quietly. I had to fucking know. “You’re divorced—at fucking last—”
“He’s still Blake’s dad,” she replied irritably.
“Stepdad,” I bit out.
She gave me a look.
Fine, whatever, legally too, he’d adopted her and…yeah. I didn’t wanna hear it.
“You know, most people would be happy that Joel and I can still be friends for Blake’s sake,” she told me.
I wasn’t most people, because most people thought Joel was a good guy.
I saw through that bullshit. He was a fucking snake.
The fact that Jane had died broke my damn heart, though. And no shit, Joel wasn’t doing well. She was all he’d had for years.
“I miss him, Elliott,” Piper confessed. I ran cold at those words. Cold and fucking nauseated. “Can you please just let him hang out with us for a night? I wanna remind him I can make him happy.”
Oh, for chrissakes, just shoot me.
Was she honestly going to take advantage of his grief? “You’re over forty. Don’t play high-school games with him.”
She flinched and got pissy. “What the fuck? I’m not playing games.”
Right.
I shook my head and went back to hauling out food. “Do whatever you want.” I didn’t wanna think about Joel—or his sweet mom. Goddammit. But I could think about Blake… I sighed and suddenly felt like an asshole. “It’s for Blake,” I added reluctantly. “If she wants her dad here, he should be here.”
Now I was gonna tell Crew to dig out my boxes of booze, ’cause clearly beer wasn’t gonna cut it tonight.
Joel showed up right as we all sat down to eat. We’d essentially turned my patio into a picnic, with a couple blankets on the floorboards, two pool loungers, the table that seated six, and Crew not giving a fuck, so he just sat down on the ground.
To be fair, most of us would’ve done the same if it hadn’t been for Marisa and Piper “making things pretty.”
“Daddy, you’re here!” Blake rushed over to Joel, who scooped her up and buried his face in her hair.
My mouthful of food slid down like a chunk of lead at the sight of him. The familiar tightness around my chest, the unease in my gut, the fucking anger… But the loss of Jane made me feel resigned too. I could go back to hating his guts in five minutes.
I set down my plate next to Tariq’s and got off the blanket. Then I grabbed a bottle of beer from the cooler next to the grill before I crossed the patio, feeling Piper’s eyes on me the whole way over to Joel. What did she think I’d do, dropkick him in front of everyone?
Joel tensed up and composed his expression as I stopped a couple feet away.
I extended the beer to him. “I’m sorry about your ma. She was a wonderful woman.”
Judging by the curious look on Blake’s face, it was glaringly obvious that Joel and I hadn’t exchanged a single word in a few years. Except for a handful of snide comments when Blake wasn’t around.
Joel relaxed just a little bit and nodded with a dip of his chin. “Thanks.” He accepted the beer.
“Nana’s an angel now,” Blake said. “Right, Daddy?”
“That’s right, baby.” He tried to smile for her, but the grief was plain as day.
I was done here. I didn’t wanna witness his mourning period. I returned to Tariq and the others. But I kinda kept Joel in my periphery, unable to help it. Not much had changed since last year. Blake’s birthday was in August, so I supposed I’d have to see Joel then too.
We were equally tall at six-three, but I guessed I was a little stockier than him these days. I worked in an office most of the time; he was a sniper with the Coast Guard. I took long walks to the fridge; he ran ten miles every day.
I couldn’t fucking do cardio anymore. I lifted weights four days a week, and I would have plenty of yardwork now that I had my own house. That had to be enough.
Back in the day, though… Before scars from bullets and blades, before countless fractures, before my PMC years, even before my brief stint in the Navy—could I go back to that?
Right on cue, I heard my old man’s gruff voice in my head.
The only people who wanna go back in time are those who don’t like the look of their future.
2000
I pulled up to the curb outside Hayward’s residence, and I honked twice before I climbed out of the truck. It was hot as balls today. Nobody was outside on the street, except for Mrs. Milton two doors down. She sat on her porch as usual, with her binoculars, keeping us safe from drug dealers.
I shook my head to myself and leaned back against the passenger side door. The houses here weren’t much smaller than ours a neighborhood over. Chain link fences instead of white picket, though. Bars on the downstairs windows.
It didn’t take many seconds before Mrs. Hayward opened the door and squinted due to the bright sun. “I’ll be damned. Elliott! You’re home!”
I grinned and offered a two-finger wave. “Hey, Mrs. Hayward.”
She hollered back into the house. “Piper! Your brother’s here!” She promptly turned back to me. “You wanna come inside for some lemonade, sugar? I wanna hear all about the Navy.”
“Next time,” I promised. “My buddies and I are goin’ surfing.”
“Of course—this weather…? Whew.” She fanned her face, always a bit theatrical and a whole lot jovial.
A beat later, Piper came running out of the house with a big grin. “Oh my gosh, they juiced you up during deployment!”
I laughed.
She opened the gate, and then she ran into my arms.
It was good to be home. Ma had already filled me with food, and Pop had shaken my hand and said he was proud of me.
“Sorry I missed your graduation.” I gave Piper a squeeze, then let her go.
“You didn’t miss anything besides boring speeches,” she assured. Fucked up to think she was eighteen now. And heading for college in the fall.
I caught movement in my periphery and looked up, finding Joel next to his mom on the stoop. What the fuck? I’d been gone a year. Last time I’d seen him, he’d been lanky as fuck. A bit shorter too. Late bloomer much?
“Hey, Elliott.” He gave me a chin-nod and scratched his bicep absently.
“Hey.” I nodded back.
My sister’s best friend was hot as fuck, all of a sudden. How had that happened?
Chapter Two
The very second Joel said goodbye to Blake and left the house, I felt my whole body relax. The fantastic start to the weekend could continue. I was hearing the music, and everyone having a good time again. The danger had passed.
The sun was setting on the other side of the house.
I ordered the guys to take a break from carrying in moving boxes and furniture.
“You’re so sweaty, Uncle Ellie!” Blake laughed.
“Wanna come gimme a big hug?” I grinned.
“No!” She squealed and ran toward the pool again.
Crew and Toby had done the heaviest lifting, so they threw themselves into the pool too. Ortega wasn’t far behind. Piper and Madison were already there.
River and Shay dragged the loungers back to the pool area and collapsed in them.
I was half tempted to cool off in the water as well, but sitting down at a table with a spread prepared by Marisa always came first. Tariq and Gray had the same idea when they saw the snacks. Olives—the good ones from a deli—marinated artichokes, nachos, guacamole, several kinds of cold cuts, among them my favorite, black pepper dry salami, salted olive oil, and bread.
“Marisa, when’re you leavin’ Ortega for me?” I sat down and snatched up one of those green Nocellara olives I loved so much.
“Ay!” Ortega exclaimed from the pool. “You watch your mouth, boss!”
I puckered my lips at him.
Marisa laughed.
“This right here—this is my crack.” Tariq made himself a plate.
“Amen.” Gray followed suit. “Darius! There’s crack on the patio! Come on! You can wrestle with the kitchen table later!”
“They’re still at it?” I peered into the house but could obviously not see anything. The living room was still empty. “Reese, Dante, Darius! Take a break!”
“In a minute!” Reese called back. “We’re declarin’ war against IKEA!”
I snorted. Then it wasn’t my kitchen table. I had a single item from IKEA, and it was a ridiculously comfortable reading chair for my study. I’d just bought a new one.
“Toby! This is for you.” Gray stuck a piece of bread into his mouth and changed songs on his phone.
Oh fuck yeah, it took me about half a second to recognize Kenny Loggins’s “Danger Zone” and dive right back into my childhood. One of the reasons I’d loved growing up in the San Diego area, watching the Navy ships on the weekends with my old man.
Toby was a good boy. He was former Navy too. He and Crew were high on life and didn’t hesitate to put on a poolside show for us, dancing and singing along.
Blake laughed and cheered.
“Nobody tell anyone I’m getting down to Navy music,” Crew threatened. “Damn squids.”
“Whoa!” I stood up with my mouth full of olives, pepper salami, and bread.
“I got this, boss. You go back to eating,” Toby reassured me. Hey, not everyone wanted eight-packs. Some wanted food. He turned to Crew and clasped his shoulder. “Looks like I gotta teach you a Top Gun lesson, my jarhead friend.”
Oh, this oughta be good—
I felt my body seize up a fraction of a second before my brain screamed desert. The smell of tea, herbs, and diesel invaded my senses. Take cover, take cover! I was back in Fallujah. Dogs barked, mopeds beeped, men screamed, the morning call to prayer had been interrupted by the sounds of rocket launchers. That loud thump followed by the rocket cracking through the air.
I sucked in a breath and met Crew’s wild stare from almost fifty feet away, and I could tell he’d reacted too. Then we snapped our gazes to the sky, and I didn’t even think. The sound was so fucking distinctive that I switched over to muscle memory. I wasn’t sure I saw anything, but I knew.
“Everyone away from the house!” I yelled. “Take cover! Away from the house!”
“Fucking run!” Crew shouted.
“Out of the pool!” Ortega grabbed ahold of Madison.
River was already out of the lounger, pulling Shay with him, and I aimed for Marisa. Gray ran, Tariq ran. Piper screamed for Blake to run toward the avocado trees. I pushed Marisa off the patio and—
A blast went off so loudly that it felt like my skull exploded, and then I was knocked over, pain shooting through me.
“Wake up!”
“Elliott!”
“Get Gray!”
“Run, Madison!”
I groaned and tried to cover my head at the sound of rapid gunfire that rose above the ringing in my ears, but I couldn’t fucking move. I wasn’t in Fallujah or any of the other Middle Eastern cities I’d carried out contracts in over the years. Blake. Get to Blake. I heard Piper screaming in the distance. Nothing else. Just my own pulse and the ringing noise, like a machine telling me I was flatlining.
Unlock the gun safe.
I blinked drowsily and pushed past every pain that pinned me to the grass. Blurry forms ran around, someone fell to the ground, and—fucking hell, the whole patio was on fire. I gasped raggedly and inhaled a bunch of smoke, which sent me into a coughing fit. But it cleared my head too. Panic gripped the edges of my senses and got me to my feet. Flight didn’t exist. Only fight did.
Someone came at me; I couldn’t see their damn face, but the attack was clear in their stance. I shoved at him, then again and again, until he tripped and hit his head against the back of the grill. I blinked repeatedly and coughed every time I inhaled smoke. Come on, come on, come on. Second by second, my vision cleared a little.
“Tariq!” Madison—that was Madison. Her shrill scream shocked me with awareness, and I finally managed to see better, hear better, and take in the fucking mayhem going on around me.
The guy I’d knocked over tried to get up again, so I let my instincts take over. Rage and adrenaline pumped through me, shoving me back to a time where survival was everything. I picked a knife off him, and I slashed his throat.
No gun on him. Fuck.
I spun around and scanned my surroundings, quickly counting about fifteen heads. Two vans rolling down the hillside, another driving toward my neighbor to the south, engines revving at the front of the house, shouting in both Spanish and English, Darius and Ortega fighting a brick shithouse of a man, flames eating the patio floor, Crew yelling at whoever he’d wrestled to the ground on the lawn.
“Where’s Blake?” I shouted. I ran for the next guy, my heart pounding, my vision sharpening, and I came up behind him, stabbed him in his side, and lifted his gun off him.
“Code to the safe, Jones!” Reese roared.
“788256!” I yelled. Just before someone took aim at Ortega, I shot the motherfucker in the head. “Get outta here!” I shouted at Madison. “Where’s Toby?”
“I don’t know!” she sobbed. “They ran to the front—” A gunshot blasted through the air, and she screamed and fell over.
I sucked in a breath, noticing the blood gushing out of her shoulder, then hurriedly located the shooter running away to the north.
I aimed at him and fired. He went down.
The attackers were scattering, running in all directions.
“Run after!” I heard Dante yell somewhere. On the other side of the house, maybe.
Crew and I jumped into action; we couldn’t enter through the patio doors, so we ran around the house. We reached the front just as Reese stormed out with a gun in his hand, and we followed. We fucking bolted down the hill as it dawned on me that whoever was behind this attack wasn’t leaving empty-handed. Two additional vans were driving down toward the main road.
“They have Shay,” Reese growled.
“Fuck,” Crew panted.
I sprinted for all I was worth, but the chances of us catching up were zero. But all of a sudden, the back doors of the last van flew open, and a man was literally kicked out.
“Shay!” Reese yelled.
The doors thumped closed once more before the van sped up. I read the license plate and automatically began compiling a list of things to do when the chase was over.
“Keep running!” I barked out, coming to a screeching halt in front of the man on the road. Panting and sweating, I squatted down and rolled the man over. How many cartel members had I pissed off over the years? The shock-and-awe attack, the military-grade weapons, and the number of people they’d sent screamed cartel.
This guy wasn’t old. Maybe thirty. His neck… Shit, was broken. His head was twisted awkwardly, eyes still open. Holy fuck. The work of Shay. It had to be. Reese had told me his boy was some martial arts champion, one hell of a fighter.
Keep fighting, son. We’re coming for you.
I started running back, because I had to find out who else had been taken.
“Give me a fucking minute,” I growled. “I gotta think.”
I walked away from Piper; I couldn’t hear another second of her gut-wrenching sobs, and I stalked over to the pool area. Gather the weapons, get to a safehouse, pick up the trails before they turn cold. Oh God, I almost threw up right there. Head pounding, pains making themselves known after the worst of the adrenaline rush was over, grief…
“Perimeter secure for now!” I heard Gray yell.
I clung desperately to the fury. It would at least keep me productive.
Darius jogged over to me.
I drew a ragged breath. The breeze carried the stench of what was left of the patio, burned wood soaked in water and foam.
Sweet Blake. We’ll find you, darling.
Tariq—fucking Tariq was dead. Toby too. I didn’t know how to control myself; I could only pace and curse. They’d kidnapped Blake, Shay, and Marisa. My skin prickled uncomfortably, and I was sticky with sweat and dried blood. All I wanted was to pull the trigger on those sons of bitches who’d attacked us.
“What’s your ghost protocol?” Darius asked. “We gotta hurry. River and Reese just took off in your truck, and Dante needs to go to a hospital ASAP.”
I nodded jerkily and scrubbed my hands over my face. Fucking think. We had maybe ten minutes before law enforcement arrived. Someone would’ve called 9-1-1. Either they saw the explosion from the main road, or one of my neighbors heard the gunfire.
“A few of us gotta stay behind,” I said.
Darius nodded with a dip of his chin. “I suggest Gray and me. I’ve done this before, and we can rejoin you when the coast is clear.”
I nodded again, his suggestion kick-starting my brain, at long last. “We’ll, uh… Okay, so I wasn’t here. Crew, me—”
“Joel’s back!” Piper croaked.
