His To Protect (Elite Force Security Book 2), page 7
***
Keith took a gulp of the extra-strong iced coffee he’d purchased at the airport coffee shop and brought up the internet browser on his cell phone. Normally, he used it mostly to either find the results of his favorite sports teams or to check the weather. Since the phone call from his sister yesterday, he’d logged on countless times to check baseball scores but also to view media sites, both the reputable ones and the not so reputable. They confirmed what Jen had shared and what he was still having a difficult time getting his head around. His baby sister was dating his longtime army buddy, Brett Sherbrooke. He wasn’t angry that they were involved. Brett was one of the most decent guys he knew. Not that she ever would, but if Jen ever asked him to set her up with one of his friends, Brett would be at the top of his list of potential boyfriends. That aside, it irked him that not once in the almost two years Brett and Jen had been communicating with each other had either bothered to tell him.
Like last night, pictures of Brett alone and some of him and Jen together appeared on every news site he checked out, regardless of how accurate the articles they printed. In high school, he’d played the protective older brother and advised her which guys to stay clear of because they weren’t worth her time. Aside from that, he wasn’t in the habit of giving her relationship advice. She was a grown adult capable of making her own decisions. Besides, if he ever tried to tell her how to conduct her romantic life, she’d view it as permission to stick her nose into his. He got enough of that from their happily married sister, Kristen. Keith didn’t need it from Jen too. But he hoped she’d thought this one through.
Brett was a great guy, but unfortunately, his family name attracted attention around the world. While in the army, he’d been able to fly under the media’s radar and live like an average Joe, but now that he was running for a seat in the Senate, the press would be circling him like a vulture around a dead carcass. The media wouldn’t only focus on Brett and the Sherbrooke family either. Jen and Brett’s relationship would be put under a spotlight too. The pictures posted this weekend were just the beginning. No damn way would he be able to handle the invasion of privacy, and Keith wasn’t sure Jen would be able to either. If he had a chance tomorrow, he’d call and see how she was holding up.
His curiosity satisfied, for the time being, Keith switched over to a sports site for the score from the Boston/Los Angeles game and pulled out one of the chocolate-frosted brownies he’d grabbed along with his coffee. Although her plane had just landed according to the screens, his thoughts reverted to the recipient of the second bakery item. Not that it surprised him. Maddie seemed to infiltrate his thoughts regularly these days. It was the worst though on the weekends, when he knew she might be off screwing some faceless dude she met at a bar—not that he had any evidence she ever left bars with random guys—or a man she met through a friend. Maddie might not originally be from the area, but she had a countless supply of friends, both male and female, who loved to set her up with guys. Despite her friends’ best efforts, Maddie never seemed to fall for any of the men. A few got multiple dates, but none ever had their phone number stay in Maddie’s contact list for more than a month. He knew most didn’t even get added to it, because she was almost as open about her romantic life as the rest of the members of the team.
Since he and the rest of HRT knew so much about her private life, it also meant she knew a damn lot about his. Until a couple of months ago, he hadn’t cared. Lately, he wished he’d kept his big trap shut rather than talk about what hot piece of ass he’d taken home with him. The fact that she did know a lot about his sex life was only one of the reasons he hesitated every time he thought about crossing the line that friends shouldn’t cross. He’d only known Maddie and everyone on the team for about a year and a half, but he considered them family. Sleeping with her could jeopardize not only his friendship with her but with the rest of HRT too. When faced with a potentially dangerous situation, he liked having as much information as possible before making any move. Although not dangerous in the same way, before he took the first step over the friendship line, he’d like to have more intel.
Yeah, sure, Maddie considered him a friend. They hung out occasionally, and she happily busted his balls every chance she got. However, except for Ax, their supervisor, Maddie hung out with all the guys on the team. Nothing she ever said or did suggested she viewed him any differently.
“Hey, I hope you grabbed me one of those.”
Great situational awareness, moron. He’d learned early in his military career to always know who and what was around him, because it could mean the difference between life and death. The same was true in his current line of work. Yet, he’d had his head so far up his own ass just now he didn’t realize Maddie had entered the coffee shop they agreed to meet in until she spoke.
Keith pushed the bag across the table. “Grabbed you an iced coffee too.”
With no hesitation, she pulled out the brownie and took a long sip of her drink. “You’re a lifesaver. I could kiss you for getting me this.”
Go right ahead. “Anytime.”
She lifted the cup toward her mouth again, and his eyes refused to look away as her lips closed around the luckiest piece of plastic in the world. Damn, what he wouldn’t give to have her lips close around him right now.
The vivid image of Maddie pleasuring him filled his head, and Keith reached for his drink, extremely glad mind reading wasn’t possible. If it were, there was a good chance he’d be wearing the contents of the cup in Maddie’s hand.
“Do you need to stop anywhere before we head over to baggage claim?” The first pit stop he made after a flight was the restroom. Airplane bathrooms were a complete joke, and he avoided them at all costs.
“I only used a carry-on.” She pointed to the bag near her feet. “So I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”
Keith had thought he traveled light. “You didn’t take much.”
“We spent most of our time either on the beach or at the hotel pool.”
He’d never seen Maddie in anything skimpier than running shorts and a tank top. The lack of a visual reference didn’t stop his brain from inventing an image of her in a fire-engine red bikini as they exited the building.
“What about you? What did you do this weekend? Or maybe I should say who did you do this weekend?” Maddie asked.
“Spent some time at the gym with Spike and Salty, but otherwise I hung out at home watching the ballgames and stuff.”
She sent him a yeah right look. “You spent the weekend alone?”
Yep, he wished he’d been a little more discreet about sharing information in the past. “Something wrong with that?” She made it sound like he couldn’t go a single weekend without having a woman over.
“No. It just seems like you don’t spend much time alone on your days off.”
She wasn’t wrong. His weekends a few months ago were much different than his recent ones. But, of course, she had no way of knowing that. Other than Spike and Salty, no one knew his sex life was nonexistent at the moment, thanks to his inability to make a move when it came to Maddie.
Using the key fob, Keith unlocked his SUV and got behind the wheel. “There wasn’t anyone I wanted to spend time with.”
“What happened to Lisa?” Maddie dropped her bag on the floor and then fastened her seat belt.
They’d had some fun together, but these days Lisa was a distant memory. “I haven’t seen her in a few months.”
“Really? Since you haven’t mentioned anyone else, I thought maybe things were getting serious between you two. I should have known better. You have an aversion to relationships that might lead somewhere, like my brother.”
On the positive side, she’d noticed he hadn’t been talking about a different woman every other week. Unfortunately, she thought he was afraid of commitment, which he wasn’t. It was more a case of finding no one he cared enough about to give it a try.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her take another sip of iced coffee. “The only thing I have an aversion to are oysters.” For the most part, he loved seafood, but he could never get past the sight of oysters to even try them.
“Whatever you say.” There was a trace of laughter in her voice. “I saw several pictures of a woman who looks like your sister and Brett Sherbrooke together. Was it Jen?”
At the moment, he saw no way to convince Maddie she was wrong about him, so he wasn’t going to waste his breath and try. But he’d figure out something. “Yeah,” he answered and then explained how his sister and the billionaire met.
Chapter Seven
After locking his desk drawer, Gabe shoved his cell phone in his back pocket and grabbed his gym bag off the floor. Since most of the guys he trained didn’t even get to the gym until six or seven, he usually stuck around until the place closed most nights. However, if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t only stay so late every night because he had clients to train. Unlike his younger brother, he didn’t have anyone waiting at home for him. Instead, he had frozen dinners and his best friend, a bottle of eighteen-year-old scotch. Sticking around the gym allowed him to help save his liver while at the same time take his anger out on an unsuspecting punching bag or whoever was unlucky enough to get on the mats with him.
“Hey, Mom wanted me to remind you the party starts at one tomorrow.” Xander paused at the open office door. Judging by the bag slung over his shoulder, he was on his way out too.
A brief jab of envy poked Gabe in the vicinity of his heart at the thought of what his baby brother had to look forward to in a little while. Lillian sometimes drove him crazy, and he could never live with her, but she loved Xander and took great care of their three children.
“I’ll do my best to stop in.”
Every five years the family held a reunion, forcing him to see relatives he didn’t care a rat’s ass about. The party tomorrow was the last place he wanted to be. No doubt his mom would give him grief if he didn’t at least make an appearance. The last time they spoke, she’d insisted showing up and socializing with the family would be a good way to put the past behind him. He knew hearing about how much his aunt’s leg bothered her every time it rained or listening to his cousins go on about their kids’ accomplishments wouldn’t change anything in his life. It certainly wouldn’t help put the past several years behind him. Only one thing would help with that. After his meeting with Sam, hopefully he’d be one step closer to settling the score with the man who ruined his life.
Before his baby brother launched into a lecture and regurgitated the spiel his mom already delivered, he walked around the desk and through the door. “I’m heading out. I’ll see you later.”
Xander didn’t take the hint and fell into step alongside him. “A little early for you to be leaving.”
Gabe didn’t have to explain his comings and goings to Xander. The guy was his brother, not his keeper. But they’d always had a good relationship, and unlike a lot of people, his brother hadn’t let Gabe’s short prison stint change anything between them.
“Big plans tonight?” Xander pushed open the exit door and held it until Gabe joined him outside.
He knew what kind of plans Xander referred to, and if his brother wanted to believe he was going out with someone, Gabe wasn’t going to tell him any differently. “Yeah, and I’m running late. Say hi to Lillian and the kids.” His brother could be worse than a woman sometimes when it came to wanting to know specific details, so before Xander could grill him, he stepped off the curb and headed for his car.
Last week, Sam had come to him for their initial meeting. When Gabe had received the text message from the private investigator yesterday, he offered to meet him at Sam’s office this time. Since so many people came and went from the gym every day, there was a good chance no one would remember if Sam stopped by more than once, but Gabe saw no reason to tempt fate. Besides, Sam’s office wasn’t far from the gym.
Unlike with the other doors along the hallway, there was no large plaque or lettering on the door letting visitors know what was located on the other side. There was only the number 225. Opening the door, Gabe stepped inside the nondescript waiting room. There were no paintings on the walls or magazines on tables. A handful of chairs lined one side of the room, and a sliding window on another suggested Sam employed a receptionist or perhaps a personal assistant. At the moment, there was no one seated there. Rather than open the door leading to the rest of the office and find himself on the opposite end of a handgun—he didn’t doubt Sam carried one most of the time—he sent off a text message letting the private investigator know he’d arrived.
The door opened a moment or two later. Although the cargo pants and T-shirt were a different color than last week, once again nothing about the guy stood out. “C’mon in.” Sam didn’t stick around and wait for Gabe to follow him.
Two desks occupied the area on the other side of the glass window. A picture frame and a laptop sat on one, while a vase of fresh flowers and a desktop computer occupied the other, suggesting Sam employed at least two individuals. From what his contacts had shared, he’d assumed Sam handled all aspects of his business, but maybe even private investigators with flexible morals needed people to handle accounting issues and answer the phone.
Sam already sat behind his desk when Gabe walked in. Much like the rest of the office, it contained the bare minimum. “Before I give you the information, I need payment.”
He’d expected nothing less. Unzipping his gym bag, Gabe pulled out the envelope he’d removed from his safe earlier this morning. He tried to use cash for as many things as possible. Although Sam accepted other forms of payment, Gabe didn’t want a paper trail connecting them.
“Are you sure it’s him?” Before he handed over anything, he needed some kind of assurance Sam had the right guy.
Sam’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he slid a manila envelope across the desk. “Check.”
Gabe pulled out two 8x10 photos from the envelope. He appeared a few years older, but no question the man smiling up at him from the top one was Special Agent Edward Armstrong.
“Is it him?” Sam asked.
Pain shot up the side of his face, and he forced himself to unclench his teeth as he handed over the money.
“Your buddy isn’t working for the FBI anymore. He retired three and a half years ago. He owns a self-defense and firearms school in Woodbridge. According to the website, they provide training to local law enforcement agencies as well as civilians. Armstrong’s wife, Maeve, is a local photographer.” Sam handed over a computer flash drive. “Everything is on here, including their home address in Springfield and their address in Virginia Beach.”
“Any children or grandchildren?”
Sam smirked. “You asked me to locate him and his wife. And I just gave you the information. You want more, I’ll find it, but it’ll be extra.”
He planned to make Armstrong suffer as much as he had. “Let me know when you have the rest.” In the meantime, he would review the information Sam had gathered so far and get in contact with Jax and Shawn, two employees of Zane’s who occasionally came into the gym to train.
Chapter Eight
Ryan rolled his neck and reached for the cup of extra-strong coffee he’d grabbed from the kitchen before heading into the team’s meeting room for a debrief. If he had any hope of staying awake, not only through the rest of the meeting but for any amount of time when he got home, he needed all the caffeine he could get his hands on. Although honestly, he cared far more about being alert when he got home than he did about the rest of this meeting. He had no doubt Kenzie would understand if he passed out the second they sat down. Thanks to a crazy week, they’d exchanged several text messages, but he’d only been able to spend about an hour with her all week, and that had been Tuesday morning. If he’d known what a busy week it would turn into, he would’ve skipped his visit with Spike’s family Monday night, a visit that had lasted far longer than he intended.
When he walked into Spike’s house, he planned to catch up a little, promise to visit Mr. and Mrs. Brockman the next time he was in New Hampshire, and head out. His plans took a detour when Audrey, Spike’s little sister, walked in the kitchen. To his shock and something bordering on horror, a beautiful young woman who would have guys studying her rather than their books had replaced the baby-faced beanpole with braces he remembered from two Christmases ago. Although she wasn’t his sister, Ryan’s older-brother instincts kicked in and immediately he found himself singing the praises of Georgetown and all the area universities Audrey had visited over the weekend. If Spike’s sister went to a college in the D.C. area, they could both keep an eye on her and be nearby if she ever needed any kind of help. Before he did finally leave, Spike’s father pulled him aside and thanked him for his efforts. Whether they’d helped sway Audrey’s decision was anyone’s guess.
Since he’d gotten home so late Monday night, they met for breakfast Tuesday morning at a restaurant about halfway between Parkview Immediate Care, the clinic where Kenzie worked, and Elite Force’s headquarters. Despite plans to get together later that same evening, it never happened. He’d barely taken three steps off the elevator at work before Ax called him in his office and handed him a plane ticket to Florida. Unless the assignment was for a high-value client, like the Sherbrookes or Stan Bonds, protection assignments went to one of the firm’s well-trained bodyguards rather than to a member of HRT, leaving the team free to carry out the firm’s other responsibilities. Responsibilities that very few people knew Elite Force even had—the firm, the federal government, and local law enforcement preferred it that way. Unfortunately, Stephan Berkeley was the son of an English aristocrat who happened to be close friends with Hugh Allen, the firm’s CFO. So rather than send someone else to babysit the arrogant jerk while he partied in Miami, Ryan got stuck with the task. After meeting Stephan at the airport, he’d spent the next few days more or less protecting the nineteen-year-old from himself until his father and mother arrived late Thursday night. As soon as he handed over the reins to a man who turned out to be the complete opposite of his son in both looks and personality, Ryan hopped a red-eye flight home. Somehow he managed to sneak in four hours of sleep before heading into work this morning. He’d been running on caffeine and sugar ever since. Exhausted or not, Ryan would not let it stop him from spending time with Kenzie tonight. But first, he had to make it through the rest of this never-ending debriefing.
