Wounded Hearts: Men in Blue, Book 5 Read online

  “Almost fifty large, yep.” The teller grinned back.

  “I mean, I guess I thought you’d write me a check or something.” Ellie shrugged.

  “Oh, sorry. The slip says you opted for cash. We can change it out, but I’ll need you to complete a new set of forms and—”

  “No. This is fine. Good. Great, really.” She shook her head, feeling the need to get out of there and back to her somewhat regular life. Anxiety built within her, as did a sense of impending doom. Out of place and surrounded by chaos, she had taken as much as she could for one night.

  “I’d like it this way myself. Maybe just roll around naked in it tonight or something before you take it to…the bank…in the morning.” The guy stared dreamily at her, as if he imagined what she’d look like covered only in green bills. Sure, he was attractive and friendly, but all she could think of was escaping before he could try to slip his number in with her spoils.

  Only one man could interest her. Worse, most of the rest of them scared her. How could she ever truly trust again?

  With Lucas, it was easy. He’d been there for her, come to her aid, never let her down. Even when it had cost him dearly. The rest of the Men in Blue too. Though they were all attached these days. Everyone else…well, they were a bet she wasn’t willing to take.

  On the ride home, she rested her forehead against the car window, letting the coolness seep into her skin. Sometimes she swore she could still feel the incessant burning of Sex Offender lighting her nervous system on fire. Tonight, though, she breathed deeply, fingering the sack of cash in her lap while the glittering lights of civilization drew nearer.

  For the first time in a while, she was happy.

  More because she’d overcome her fears than because of the cosmic reward she’d been handed for her bravery. Still, that didn’t hurt either. Maybe she could see how many credits she’d need to get a revamped degree. Start a new career. Get back on her feet all the way.

  Lost in thought, she didn’t realize they’d already gotten so close to home until they pulled up in front of her house.

  “Want me to walk you in?” Shari asked quietly.

  “Nah, I’m okay. Promise.” Ellie desperately wanted it to be true. So she darted from the car before they could make any more offers she’d be tempted to accept. “I need to grab the mail anyway. Go ahead, I’m fine.”

  Grinning, Ellie waved at the ladies in the car then jogged across the street to pick up her bills. Nothing besides that and junk would be waiting in her box. At least she could get rid of a few of them now.

  Once she had those in hand, she skipped up the sidewalk to her modest house. The cute cottage had been the ideal starter home. At least before she’d become afraid of spending nights alone.

  A shiver ran up her spine and she slowed as she neared. She looked over her shoulder, dismissing the tendril of fear that overcame her as the taillights of Jambrea’s car disappeared around a corner.

  She paused and drew in a deep breath, and then another.

  Knowing she would hate herself later for overreacting, yet still unwilling to be anything but prepared, Ellie circled around to her side yard and knelt by the oversized watering can she’d left there.

  Peeking over her other shoulder, she quickly retrieved the sack she’d stashed in it—one of many emergency kits she’d littered around her home. Swapping it for the bag she carried, the one with the bricks of hundred-dollar bills, she pretended to tend to something nearby before heading inside.

  Just in case.

  Ellie rolled her eyes at herself.

  With no one to witness her foolishness, she satisfied her own rituals. Hey, at least this time she didn’t false alarm and enlist the Men in Blue to check out the entire interior of her home, as she had more than once in the past year. She debated calling Ryan, just to hear his voice for a second, but it was past Julie’s bedtime and she didn’t want to risk waking the girl up.

  There was Lucas… Not that he’d pick up, since he hadn’t the past 3,517 times she’d tried to contact him.

  She squeezed her eyes shut then planted one foot on her bottom step.

  Geared up, Ellie began to climb her front stairs.

  Before she could open the lock on the front door, it burst outward, knocking her off-balance.

  Without even giving her time to scream, a black-gloved hand shot out and wrapped around her waist. A matching grip covered her mouth. Then she was dragged inside.

  No, this couldn’t be happening.

  Not again.

  Instead of freezing, her entire being went into survival mode.

  She stomped on her attacker’s instep, like the Men in Blue had shown her. Her hands dipped into her sack and withdrew a bottle of pepper spray. Aiming it point-blank, she depressed the button on top, blasting the man with a stream of violent chemicals.

  Ellie might have made it outside again if there weren’t two other men waiting to charge her while their associate writhed on the floor, clutching his face, which now dripped snot and tears.

  This time they were more careful, smashing her wrist against the doorframe until she dropped her weapon. They also attempted to snatch the bag from her grip, taking the rest of her supplies too. But she fought harder and they backed off temporarily, knowing she was trapped.

  “You won’t be needing that anymore,” one guy rumbled, making her shiver. “Thanks for being our mule. Should we give her a cut, boys?”

  “I can think of other ways to repay the lady,” another one cackled as he ran his hand along her exposed thigh.

  Ellie tried to ignore the slimy coating his molestation released in her gut, but she couldn’t. Not again. She wouldn’t survive if she couldn’t get out of there.

  Quick.

  Chapter Two

  Lucas kicked back in his leather recliner. It had been his favorite chair until his prosthesis had torn the footrest. Every time he looked at the ragged slash in the damn thing now, it only reminded him of the endless ways in which his life had been altered. He massaged his stump, especially the knee, which ached after the long run he’d pushed himself through earlier.

  It’d been nearly seven months since his amputation. He’d never worked harder to get back to normal, whatever the hell that was these days. Though he’d trained like a madman when his life had depended on his physical and mental abilities, he was more cut than ever. Endless gym time had guaranteed it. His gaze wandered down his ripped, freshly tattooed chest and the muscles of his abdomen, which were pretty damn defined, even while he slouched, completely relaxed.

  Or as close to it as he ever got.

  He picked up a controller and turned on his gaming console, ready to slay some aliens and save the human race again. Like he did most nights, until he nodded off in this piece-of-shit chair, which now sported a dent the size and shape of his ass. He couldn’t believe how much he sat. Before, he’d been active, only getting horizontal to hook up with a fine woman or grab a few hours’ rest before heading to the next assignment. Now he spent most of his time outside of his rehab efforts here, hoping to settle his mind enough to doze off. Sometimes, it was the only way he could sleep at all.

  Lucas figured he’d give his other leg to be back out there, making a difference in the world. Except he knew if he tried, he’d only put others at risk. Endangering his team was something he would never do. Despite all his efforts and therapy, he’d never be as agile, as stealthy or—probably most important—as mentally unhindered as he’d been before his injury. Blending in and hiding his identity on covert ops would be impossible with such an easy tell for his enemies to discover. The military probably assumed they’d done him a favor by medically discharging him with full salary and benefits for the rest of his life.

  He scrubbed his hand over his face.

  Then again, he wouldn’t take his leg back if it meant the evil he’d witnessed the day it had been
crushed went unchecked. Often, he dreamt of that closing gate and his last-ditch effort to keep it from trapping victims—Ellie included—inside a ghastly prison, by using his body as a doorstop. They’d gotten her out of the Scientist’s clutches. Not in time to avoid being wounded, at least as badly as he had been, but in time to keep her—and dozens of other innocents like her—alive.

  Both of them had survived, if in one hell of a state. His partner, Steve, hadn’t been as lucky.

  Breath wheezed out of Lucas as he remembered the look on Ellie’s drugged face when their friend Lily had hauled her from the cloud of Sex Offender that had turned her fellow prisoners into monsters who attacked her. During the tenure of his career, it was the single most disgusting thing he’d ever witnessed. Insane with chemically induced lust of her own, she had somehow struggled against the potent concoction.

  The pure fight she’d shown in escaping the hellhole they’d yanked her out of had made it impossible for him to quit, even as his leg had screamed in agony. She’d clearly been assaulted. Repeatedly. Her moans and cries had been like an audible interpretation of his own debilitating pain as Jeremy had helped him hobble on his destroyed leg to relative safety. The sound of her terror was burned into his memory.

  His fingers clamped on the arm of the chair, threatening to make more holes in the upholstery.

  Recollections like that made him feel sick for wanting her. How could she ever welcome the kind of primal advances that had taken center stage in the thoughts he’d had of her since then? Why would she, or any sane woman, want a man like him now?

  “Fuck.” He pounded his fist on his thigh, welcoming the thud that distracted him from his downward-spiraling thoughts.

  Staring at the ceiling, he drew in a ragged breath and groaned.

  After a solid five minutes spent wrestling the urge to blank out his overactive mind on the pain pills prescribed to him, his phone buzzed on the side table nearby.

  Please don’t be Ellie.

  Tonight he might not have the strength to ignore it, letting her go to voice mail, then listening to her messages at night when he was wide-awake. His fingers curled inward. Frequent calls from her were hard to resist. Even tougher than the siren song of his narcotics, which he’d been trying to wean himself off entirely. Late-night rings like these meant she probably slept as shittily as he did. Her attempts to contact him had slowed recently, coming fewer and farther between. While he’d tried to be happy about that, the fact was he missed seeing her light up his screen. That barest of contacts had the power to make him smile. At least for a moment, until he remembered the shit-ton of reasons they couldn’t be together.

  The good thing about having a detachable foot was that he could actually shove it up his own ass if he kept acting like an idiot.

  Lucas couldn’t help himself—he snatched the vibrating phone, hoping for a glimpse of her name or the profile picture he’d set for her contact. It was a formal shot of them, all dressed up, that had been taken at Lily and JRad’s wedding. She’d looked more gorgeous than usual that day. Hell, they’d even danced together once as he deluded himself into believing his leg might still get better, despite the advice of his doctors who’d encouraged him to amputate immediately.

  Turned out wearing a prosthesis was actually better than hanging on to a mangled meat foot when it came to living an active lifestyle. He’d been screwed even then, but at least his denial had been strong enough that he enjoyed one last happy occasion with his friends. And Ellie.

  It always came back to her.

  “Son of a bitch!” he roared at himself. Especially since it wasn’t even her calling.

  Instead, the face that flashed on-screen belonged to Jeremy Radisson, though the label said “JRad”, since his friends on the force used that nickname for the geeky cyberdetective with an impressive Dominant streak.

  A wave of mingled relief and disappointment washed through Lucas. Anxiety too. It was always kind of awkward talking to one of the guys who could understand exactly what he had lost—camaraderie, purpose, honor—along with his leg. Still, part of him was glad to have someone to talk to in the darkness.

  Speaking of, why the hell was the dude calling so close to midnight? It must be important. Lucas swiped his thumb across the phone to answer.

  Before he even had a chance to say hello, Jeremy was talking in a hurried, hushed rumble.

  “Hey, Lucas,” JRad greeted him with a cautious edge to his tone. This couldn’t be good.

  “What’s up?” The guy never buzzed him this late. None of their mutual friends did anymore either, though they all worked fucked-up shifts. Ah, the life of a peacekeeper.

  It was like they didn’t want to interrupt his beauty sleep in case that would make his fucking leg grow back. In the military, especially his covert branch, he hadn’t been used to people tiptoeing around him. He found he didn’t like it much either, now that he was disabled.

  “Wish I could say this was a social call. Sorry.” It felt oddly good that the first ten minutes of their discussion wasn’t something along the lines of “how are you feeling today, buddy”.

  Oh fine, just missing a foot, an ankle and most of my shin—that’s all. Could be worse—could’ve had my dick chopped off. Ha-ha…

  In other words, the same old bullshit he’d been reciting for months now.

  They dove into the important stuff without fucking around with feelings and shit. Finally, something like his regular modus operandi. Years of late-night summons, life-or-death emergencies and running on adrenaline had made his recent couch-potato act all the more unnerving.

  “The rest of the Men in Blue and I are on a case. Getting close to cracking it.” JRad’s urgency penetrated Lucas’s gloomy thoughts.

  “You need help with something?” Sometimes they made use of his government connections or picked his brain, which was essentially a database on immoral dealings and the inner workings of criminal organizations, after nearly two decades combating them.

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not. How can I help?” Lucas sat straighter, leaning forward in his ruined seat.

  “It’s the girls—”

  “Ah shit. Some pussy assignment? I thought you actually needed me for important shit.” He deflated, sinking into the cushions again.

  “They’re the most valuable things in our lives,” JRad was quick to correct him. “You know we wouldn’t trust their safety to just anyone.”

  “Be honest, you’re trying to make me feel useful here.” He stopped short of rolling his eyes. Badass soldiers, even retired ones, did not roll their eyes. “What’s next? A crossing-guard vest? Jesus, JRad. Fuck off.”

  “Hey, wait. Don’t hang up. Shit. We need you.” A ragged breath from JRad convinced Lucas not to punch the End button just yet. “We’re stuck on this case. There’s no way we can bail now. Not even one of us could sneak out without blowing our cover. Sending in anyone else from the station would risk spooking Ellie.”

  “Ellie?” Lucas could have decked himself for repeating her name. Letting the other guy know he was as obsessed as ever with the beautiful young woman wouldn’t be in his best interest. Not tonight or anytime in the future when the guys and their ladies decided for the millionth time to try and play matchmaker with a hopeless pairing.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s she got to do with this?” Fuck it, why hide it when it was obvious to everyone, anyway, exactly how much he wanted her? Felt responsible for her somehow. It was pretty common in their line of work, actually, to get attached to certain people they had a hand in helping.

  Wasn’t smart, though.

  “I guess Lily, Jambrea, Izzy, Lacey and Shari convinced her to go out to that new casino north of the city with them tonight.”

  “Now I know you’re screwing with me.” Lucas took the phone from his ear for a second to glare at JRad’s p
icture. What kind of game was he playing? Ellie could hardly stand a stroll in a garden, never mind the chaos of a casino. She spooked as easily as a soft, pretty bunny. Not that he blamed her in the least.

  Besides, most people wouldn’t notice because of the tough mask she wore. But he was a trained observer. So were the rest of the Men in Blue. The tic of her sculpted jaw or the rapid blink of her mesmerizing blue eyes, which caused thick lashes to flutter onto the pale, creamy skin of her cheeks—all of it screamed how scared shitless she was of the world around her.

  Lucas figured she was the bravest woman he’d ever met for not falling apart with that bucketload of terror coursing through her veins constantly. The adrenaline aftereffects alone had to be exhausting to her system.

  “I’m not shitting you.” JRad huffed at that. “I didn’t think they’d con her into doing it either, but they did. She’s getting better lately, Lucas. Healing. Not so raw as she used to be. Which you’d know if you hadn’t cut her out of your life, dickhead.”

  “Stick to the facts.” He’d had enough lectures from her five female cohorts. Additional shit from JRad was entirely unnecessary.

  “Look, they went out tonight. Sexy as hell. The six of them dressed up, sending us enough naughty selfies to torture us while we’re stuck in this damn apartment, spying on druggies.”

  JRad’s clear sexual frustration had Lucas grinning. Too bad, so sad. The man would eventually go home to his feisty, sometimes-submissive-but-only-for-him Mistress Lily soon enough.

  “At least Matt and Clint can suck each other off in the bathroom. Mason and Tyler too. It’s just you and Razor who are screwed, huh?” Lucas shrugged, though no one could see him and despite the fact that he knew they wouldn’t. Not on the clock. They took their jobs as seriously as he had once.

  “Anyway, the girls headed over there after dinner at some fancy place downtown. Ten minutes ago our phones started lighting up at once. Scared the shit out of us,” JRad confessed. Each of their ladies had fought through some hard times and survived her own personal threats. It had their guys on edge still.