Page 4 of Trapped (Sheppard & Sons Investigations #6)

Nathan

A shley relaxing was beautiful. Ashley, unleashing a year’s worth of pain and frustration, was magnificent. For the second time since walking into Grannie’s, all I could do was stare.

The nasty scar was a new addition since I’d last seen her, so I turned to hide the left side of my face as she marched towards me.

The cute T-shirt with a cartoon cat drinking a beer was in stark contrast to the anger rolling off her.

As part of my undercover playboy persona in Vegas, I hung out at the bar and occasionally, I’d pick up women. That’s all Ashley was supposed to be—a hookup.

But she crashed into the seat next to me and ended up being so much more than I’d bargained for. Ashley’s sassy, no fucks given confidence was a breath of fresh air.

The memory was as clear as if it’d been yesterday.

She walked up to the bar and plopped down on the stool beside me.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

Her cheesy pickup line turned out to be the perfect icebreaker, reeling me in with her infectious laugh.

I bought her drinks for the rest of the night, and a basket of chili cheese fries when she got hungry. We talked until the date on my watch flipped over.

When she asked, I eagerly followed to her room. We both expected a night of passionate sex, but we ended up talking. Talking, and making out like teenagers.

Unwilling to risk blowing my cover or putting her in harm’s way, I left without exchanging information. My sexless one-night stand was over, and it was time to move on.

It was the best night I’d had in just about forever.

The next night I bent my rule and returned to the same bar, hoping she’d return.

She did. And for the second time, what we thought would be a night of mind-blowing sex turned into a night of talking, drinking, and laughing. When I kissed her, she melted in my arms. When she pulled my hair, I almost lost all control.

But I couldn’t. I already knew Ashley was different, and I couldn’t love her and leave her like I did with the others. She deserved better than that. She deserved the truth.

Truth I couldn’t give her, but I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Like a moth to her flame, I was hooked. Against my better judgement, I asked, “Can you meet me for lunch tomorrow?”

“I’m done at eleven, so anytime after that works.”

We set a time and agreed to meet at a different bar. I’d smiled, thrilled to be having lunch with the most amazing woman I’d ever met. But my smile evaporated as I reminded myself she was meeting Scott. Not Nathan.

The personal details I’d shared were real, but she wouldn’t care once she found out I’d lied about my name and job.

Every minute we spent together made it harder to lie, but I couldn’t risk her knowing why I was there or what I was doing.

Knowing my op, bringing down the Perpura Cartel, was almost over, I started planning how I’d come clean and what I’d say to get Ashley to give Nathan a chance.

“Thank you for lunch, Angel.” She stretched and kissed my cheek. Her fruity shampoo filled my senses, the scent forever tied to Ashley in my mind.

“You’re welcome, Slick.” I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d call me when I confessed I’d lied about my name.

I shouldn’t have, but I asked her out to dinner hoping she’d spend her last night in Vegas with me. She accepted. I had my excuse for why I wouldn’t be able to talk to her for a few days ready to buy myself enough time to finish my mission.

If I was lucky, we’d finally consummate our relationship.

We agreed to meet outside the Eiffel Tower Restaurant, on the eleventh floor of the Paris Hotel, at seven.

“I’ll make your last night in Vegas one you’ll never forget,” I promised.

“You better.” The fire in her eyes told me I wouldn’t forget it either.

I never showed.

Images flashed rapid-fire before my eyes.

A table covered with sharp knives.

Count five things you can see, here and now. Brick wall, awning, blue sedan, trash can, people.

The steel shackles on my wrists, my bare feet dangling two inches above the floor.

Count four things you can touch, here and now. Brick wall, wallet, car keys, phone.

The crack Al’s whip made seconds before striking my back.

Count three things you can hear, here and now. Traffic, music, people talking.

The scent of blood as leather tore my flesh.

Count two things you can smell, here and now. Coffee, exhaust.

The taste of blood and stale vomit that lingered for days.

Count one thing you can taste, here and now.

Back in the present, I practiced my breathing, knowing coffee would fill that last requirement as soon as I filled the order.

I didn’t know how long I’d stood there, clinging to the whitewashed brick wall like a drowning kid to a life preserver.

Too long . Taking another deep breath, I stood straight and flexed my stiff hands.

Fuck. That hadn’t gone well.

How could it have? The last person I’d expected to see when I left the office was Ashley. The shock robbed me of all the speeches I’d prepared over the last year, just in case.

Why the hell is she here?

She’d said she lived in Dallas, but Weatherford was a small town ninety minutes west.

What were the chances we’d moved to the same town?

No, that’s not it . Ashley couldn’t be new in town if she was friends with my boss’s wife.

Fuck.

Ashley had every right to be mad. From her perspective, I’d stood her up, ghosted her.

I opened the door, still practicing my combat breathing: in four, hold four, out four, hold four. Repeat as needed, which I suspected I’d need a lot.

“Sorry about that,” I said, as I approached the counter under the watchful eyes of three curious women. “We had a bit of a misunderstanding.”

Emily glared at me, giving me every reason to believe she knew what happened in Vegas. Mary looked sympathetic. The third woman, who looked familiar but I couldn’t place, looked confused.

“It’s none of our business,” Mary said, before introducing her manager, Beth. Ah, that’s why I recognized her—Beth was Doug’s fiancée.

Guys in my unit had talked about small-town life, but this was ridiculous. The people here didn’t just know each other; they were friends and family.

I’d been at my new job three days and everything was already turning to shit.

Just fucking great.

“Thank you.” I didn’t need to look at Emily to know she was glaring at me. Not wanting to stay any longer than I needed to, I said, “I need—”

“It’s ready to go. Meg messaged me with the order.”

Thank God for small favors.

When I tried to pay, Mary said Meg took care of it with the coffee fund, so I put a fifty in the tip jar. I thanked Mary and apologized again for causing a scene.

Driving back to the office, I braced myself for what was coming. There was no way John, Jamie, and Doug wouldn’t know what had happened by the time I got back.

Who was I kidding? Everyone would know.

That’s what I get for moving to a small town and working for a family business.

As soon as I set the cardboard box of coffee cups and the bag of pastries on Meg’s desk, she told me John wanted to see me in his office.

“Jack and Jamie are there, too.” She warned me with a sympathetic smile.

“Thanks.” I grabbed their coffees, squared my shoulders, and reminded myself that the only easy day was yesterday.

I handed out their coffees as I greeted them. “You wanted to see me, sir.” I looked around the room. “Sirs.”

“Thanks.” John took his coffee. “Mary said you left a rather generous tip.” He nodded his approval.

“It didn’t feel right letting SSI pay, sir.”

“You don’t need to call me sir,” John said. “Have a seat.”

“Everyone contributes to the fund, so the new guy doesn’t go broke,” Jack said.

“And we get a discount, being family and all,” Jamie added, with a grin.

“Good to know.” I knew why I was there, so I didn’t wait for John to call me out. “I’m sorry about what happened at Grannie’s”

“Mary accepted your apology, so we’re good,” John said.

“That’s not why you’re here,” Jamie said.

“Ashley.” I guessed.

“Yes, we don’t need to know the details of your history with her,” Jamie said.

“But we need to know if it’ll be an issue,” Jack finished.

I had a feeling they’d heard about Vegas long before now; they just never knew it was me.

I should’ve moved to a big city where I could disappear in the crowd.

Applying to a small family business had seemed like a good idea. Now I wasn’t so sure. SSI was at the opposite end of the spectrum from Hawken’s, which was what I wanted.

High-risk civilian black ops was the perfect job for someone who wanted to keep operating but no longer serve in the military. Guys like me, who loved serving but hated the bullshit. But after Vegas, I couldn’t do it anymore.

“It won’t be a problem,” I said. I wasn’t sure it was true, but if it was and I had to leave, I’d manage. My skills and experience meant that finding another job would be easy. Or I could say, fuck it and start my own company.

“Good, because Ashley’s family,” Jamie said.

That close ? Thank God my resume was impressive because I’d probably have to look sooner rather than later. Unless I can convince Ashley to forgive me.

“Anything you want to share?” John asked.

I forced myself to release the death grip I had on my coffee before I squeezed it too much and made a mess.

“No, sir,” I said. Looking John in the eye, I continued, “What happened is between Ashley and me.”

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?” Jack asked. I sensed he wanted to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work.

“I wish,” I meant to whisper, but from the identical grins on their nodding faces I knew I’d said it too loud.

They wouldn’t hear the story from me, but they’d hear about it from their wives. Hell, they already know, they just don’t realize it. Ashley didn’t strike me as the keep-it-to-herself type.

I could only imagine the colorful language she’d used as she cursed my name.

When she calle me Casper the Fucking Dickheaded Ghost, it hadn’t sounded spontaneous.

What happened between Ashley and me wasn’t the only thing I wanted staying in Vegas.

When I interviewed, I explained the scar by saying I’d gotten into a knife fight. Not a lie . I got the expected “I hope the other guy looks worse” remark and gave the appropriate “He’s dead” response.

They knew it happened during my last op with Hawken’s, but I didn’t tell them my cover was blown or that the fight happened during my escape from the Perpura brothers, Tommy and Al, who trafficked weapons—high-value, military-grade weapons of war—to the highest bidder, foreign or domestic.

After two weeks of torture, I stopped fighting and acted like I’d given up. I convinced them I was no longer an escape risk, so when Tommy unhooked me from the ceiling winch, he was alone and unprepared.

The instant he turned his back, I strangled him with the heavy steel chain connecting the shackles on my wrists.

I made quick work of finding the keys to unlock my shackles. Unfortunately, I hadn’t finished the job and Tommy regained consciousness, attacking me with a knife.

It was a short, ugly fight—nothing like the long scenes you see in the movies—that ended with my face and his throat being slashed.

Tommy didn’t stand up a second time. I stole a random pair of dirty overalls, Tommy’s shoes and gun, and a leather jacket I’d found on the back of a chair.

Killing his brother, Al, was easier. I put a nine mil bullet in his chest. With limited ammunition, and even less strength, I wanted to avoid confrontation with the Perpura Brothers’ henchmen. I only fired the one shot, killing Al, before sneaking out of the warehouse.

Focusing on the soft chair under me, the carpet under my feet, and the wood under my fingers, I worked my way back to the present.

“You okay?” John asked.

I relaxed my death grip on the arm of the chair. “Fine, thanks.” I didn’t expect them to believe me; my body was vibrating with tension.

“You don’t know us, so I don’t expect you to trust us yet,” Jamie said. “But if you ever want to talk about it, we’re here.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“It’s Jamie.”

“Thanks, Jamie. I’m sure you understand there are things I can’t talk about.” It was the same thing I’d said during my interview. The truth of the statement served my need to avoid talking about it. I could give broad-stroke information, but not the details.

Like why I left Hawken’s Security after having my cover blown. Like knowing I could no longer operate at the same level. Like seeing my life flash before my eyes and realizing I wanted more than just thrills and adventure.

I wanted a wife, kids, a dog, and a white picket fence.

Changing the subject, John said, “We have your first assignment. It’s a two-day personal protection detail. You’ll work it with Jay.”

I stood and reached for the file. “Anything specific I need to know?” I asked, already scanning the file.

“It’s routine, but we’re assigning two for twenty-four-seven coverage,” John said.

“When do we leave?”

“In an hour, coordinate with Jay. You have a suit with you?”

“Yes, sir.” I corrected myself. “Sorry, it’s a habit.”

Jack laughed. “We get it.” Everyone at SSI had served in the military or in law enforcement.

Jay waved me in before I could knock on the doorframe of the office he shared with his fiancée, Cate. A Marine and former FBI profiler, Cate was an all-around badass.

And someone I’d have to work hard to keep from shrinking my head. I’d already noticed her watching me, trying to figure me out, more than once.

“Morning, Cate, Jay.”

“Morning, thanks for the coffee, bro,” Jay said. “Best I’ve ever tasted.”

“You’ve been drinking that coffee your whole life,” Cate said.

“No, I haven’t. I drank it for a few years before joining the Marines, but I’ve only been home seven months, Sweetie Pie,” Jay corrected her.

“Jaden.” There was a warning in her voice.

“Yes, Snookems?”

“How many times—”

“Have you told me not to call you that?”

“Obviously not enough,” Cate answered.

“But you don’t like being called Sweetums.”

Cate turned to me. “Nathan, would you please remove my office mate from the room before I have to kill him?”

“Sure thing.” Working with these two would be fun. It was obvious they enjoyed riling each other up and just as obvious they loved each other. “Let’s go.”

Jay grabbed his gear and laptop, then kissed Cate’s temple. “Bye, love.” She smiled before saying, “Be careful.”

As we walked through the office towards the back door, Meg called out, “Be safe.”

“Thanks, Meg.” Jay and I answered together.