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

Nathan

J ay and I spoke the same language. Having special forces experience made connecting easy, despite serving in different branches. The brotherhood crossed uniforms.

Until he asked, “So, what’s the deal with you and York?”

“Who?”

“Dude, you don’t know her last name?”

Fuck, he’s talking about Ashley . “No. It never came up.” Which wasn’t entirely true, I’d intentionally not asked, and she hadn’t offered. “She didn’t ask for mine either.” And I hadn’t offered.

How’d we spend so much time together and learn so little?

That wasn’t accurate. We talked about everything and nothing.

The conversation flowed easily, and we never experienced the awkwardness of a first date.

I didn’t know her last name, but I’d learned what really mattered; what shaped Ashley into the amazing woman she was.

And despite being undercover, I shared what made me, me.

Because we hooked up in Vegas, we didn’t expect more.

Liar . We might have intended for it to be a one-night stand, but we’d both wanted more.

Jay looked at me, shook his head back and forth, and said, “Ashley’s last name is York.”

Ashley York. If I’d had her full name, I might’ve looked her up. How many Ashley Yorks lived in Dallas? It didn’t matter. The image of her face was etched into my brain, so I could’ve used social media to find the right one.

Working for a company with government contracts meant there wasn’t much I couldn’t find out.

If I had their full name.

“So what happened?” he repeated his question.

“Nothing happened.”

“I hate to tell you, brother, but the entire office is buzzing about the incident at Grannie’s,” Jay said, sounding genuinely sympathetic. “You won’t be able to avoid talking about it for long.”

I’d figured as much. “Copy that.”

“Would you rather talk about how you got that scar?”

“Christ, Sheppard, are you always like this?” My fingers tapped on my leg, counting to keep me present.

He laughed. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Are you sure about that?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject.

“Abso-fucking-lutely. Just ask Cate.” He glanced my way. “So, about that scar?”

“You know, your brothers weren’t half as nosy.”

His slight flinch as he tightened his hands on the steering wheel told me I’d hit a nerve.

“You’ll see soon enough; I’m nothing like my brothers.” His tone held little to no humor.

I nodded. Definitely a sore subject. “Like I said, a knife fight,” I answered, wanting to talk about my scar less than I wanted to talk about Ashley.

Circumstances had fused the two in my mind forever.

I couldn’t think about Ashley without flashing back to the warehouse.

Or remembering the knife fight that resulted in a facial scar that wasn’t easily ignored.

“Okay. I won’t push anymore, but I’m here if you want to talk.” He wasn’t so different from his brothers after all. “I recognize the haunted look in your eyes.” He paused, his forearms flexing as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. His voice was gritty when he said, “I’ve been there.”

“Thanks, man. But I’m not ready yet.”

“Fair enough.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked.

“Shoot.”

“Did your father say anything about my background check?”

Standard background checks included basic information, like employment and criminal histories. Private investigation agencies ran deeper background checks, though not government or law enforcement deep.

Hawken’s ran an extensive check because of the work we did with government agencies. SSI wouldn’t have looked that deep, but they may have done extra research.

“Not to me. I’m a son, but not one of ‘the sons’”, he made air quotes, “so I’m on a need-to-know basis.” He shrugged. “I didn’t need to know.”

I nodded before trying a different tactic. “Brother to brother, what do you know?”

He looked at me, sizing me up, before answering. “I know some shit went south in Vegas during your last op for Hawken’s. If they know more, they haven’t told me. Obviously, what they learned didn’t prevent them from hiring you.”

My three interviews had been extensive. The first one was a pre-interview via video chat with John.

He didn’t push for details, and I didn’t offer them.

The second was a longer, in-person interview with John, Jamie, and Jack.

They asked for more details, and I told them what I could.

They seemed to understand I couldn’t divulge details about ongoing government operations.

The Perpura brothers were dead, but their cartel was still operating. The FBI was still investigating, but I didn’t know if Hawken’s had sent someone new in to finish the job.

My final interview with the team felt more like meeting a friend’s family than an interview. In hindsight, it made sense. SSI was a family business; they’d make sure I was a good fit professionally and personally.

“Fair enough.” During my last interview, I fell back into the easy banter that happens between military brothers and had looked forward to working with a team again.

“So why the SEALs?” he asked, changing the subject. A hint of challenge in his voice.

I laughed. “Why the Raiders?” My challenge matched his.

“Didn’t want to serve on a boat.”

I laughed. “I hear that a lot.”

We spent the next thirty-six hours providing protection for an actress in Dallas. She had her own full-time bodyguard, so our job included crowd control and securing any room she graced with her presence.

We didn’t have much time to talk, but I had plenty of time to think.

And a feisty brunette occupied most of my thoughts.

Ashley’s anger was justified, and she wasn’t shy about making sure I knew it.

Casper. I smiled. She’d used a lot of nicknames for people in Vegas, too.

Back then she’d called me Angel because of her silly pickup line.

I should’ve hated it, but her eyes always sparkled when she used it, making me love it.

“What’s so funny?” Jay’s voice asked over comms.

“Nothing.” I lied as I removed the smile from my face.

“Right.” I could see him near the entrance, scanning the room.

I had kitchen-door duty. Which meant I couldn’t avoid seeing and smelling the amazing food the servers carried. Steak, lobster, and a spicy pasta dish. It was making me hungry, and probably grumpier than usual.

“Just do your job, Grunt.” I used the nickname for soldiers in the Marines.

“Aye, aye, Uber.” He threw back the nickname the Marines gave the Navy.

I shook my head at the familiar banter. Jay and I would get along just fine. If he didn’t pester me about Ashley.

Back at the hotel, my Chicken Alfredo was less than satisfying as I scarfed my dinner before volunteering for the first shift of the night watch.

Standing in a hall for hours on end was boring as fuck, but I’d had worse jobs.

“Can I give you some friendly advice?” Jay asked during the drive back.

“No.”

He laughed. “Whatever happened between you and Ashley, apologize. Kiss her ass and make it right.”

“I said no.” I really didn’t want him or anyone else at SSI getting involved.

“I heard you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I know my dad and brothers talked to you. So you know that Ashley and Emily are tight, have been since grade school. And Meg adores her.”

“You gonna shut up about this anytime soon?”

“Soonish.” He grinned.

I flipped him off.

“Your bosses will be polite, but the girls—they’ll kick your ass.”

“Should I look for another job?” I tried to sound unconcerned, but he didn’t buy it.

“Not yet.”

“Noted.” I appreciated his brutal honesty, even if I didn’t like the message.

“Unfortunately for you, the cat’s out of the bag. Ashley told the girls all about the night you stood her up in Vegas.”

If only it were that simple.

Ashley had probably called me every name in the book after coming home. Given her penchant for comedic nicknames, I’d bet she’d made up a few too.

“Let me guess, craft and booze night?” She’d laughed until she had tears streaming from her eyes when she’d told me about it.

“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’. “And there’s no way the girls didn’t tell their guys as soon as they got home.”

“So, who all knows?” I was clueless about who attended craft and booze night. I just remembered Ashley joking about how it started as a book club, but they drank more than they read, so they tried crafts instead.

Remembering the hint of pink in her cheeks as she laughed while telling me they drank more than they crafted made me respond in ways I didn’t want Jay to see.

“Hate to be the one to tell you, bro, but everyone. I remember her cursing a guy named Scott.” He raised an eyebrow at me.

Everyone. I closed my eyes and recited the SEAL slogan, the only easy day was yesterday, reminding myself I could get through this. “It’s my middle name.”

He nodded before continuing, “She was so pissed.”

“Fuck.” I sighed the word as I ran my hand down my face, the jagged scar under my fingers reminding me why I’d stood her up.

Jay noticed my hand lingering. “A wise man once told me that the only emotion that drives that kind of anger is pain.”

Feeling a bond despite the newness of our friendship, I opened up a little more. “It wasn’t intentional. I was undercover, and shit went south.” As a Raider, he’d understand what I meant.

“How far south?”

“Think Cape Horn.” An island off the southern tip of South America.

“Damn.” The upbeat country song on the radio filled the silence. “That when you fucked up your face?” His tone lightened the mood but not the subject.

“Yeah.”

“Does she know?”

No, because I didn’t have her contact information.

Even if I had, my head was too fucked up to reach out.

Why would she talk to me after everything that had happened?

After I’d stood her up and hurt her. Add in my physical and emotional scars, and she wouldn’t recognize me as the man she met in Vegas.

“No.” The situation had too many ugly layers, and Ashley didn’t want to hear my side. “She thinks I intentionally ghosted her.”