Stone (The Elite Forces Series Book 3) Read online

  Kaleb has enemies. Each one of these men do. Hell, Jade probably does as well. It could be a million people who have decided now is the time to seek out revenge, which makes you strike out in the worst way. They wanted to hit them where they least expected it but where it hurt them the most. If this is about revenge, then it must be against Beau, or against the entire team combined.

  “Some valuable information came in early this morning. I was heading over to see if you were up to seeing it instead of waiting until Monday. We all agreed you should know.” I swallow. I hope and pray he takes another step. It may seem harsh and fast as a lot has happened to create fear and havoc on Beau’s emotional state in the past twenty-four hours. I believe in him. He can do this. Both of us stand there for a few minutes, watching Beau battle back and forth with the side of him that’s searching deep to see how much strength he has left.

  Everything is tightly hidden inside of him. His shield is back up, putting more pressure on him to either snap at this information he is being told or to bear the pressure and go find the killer. Both Steele and I watch him, watching the battle turning into a war he’s caught in the middle of.

  I feel a little weak in the knees from witnessing a tormented man deciding if he has the strength or not. It hurts me to see him this way. It’s when he walks past me, up the few stairs that lead into the office when Steele gives me a look that tells me he feels it too.

  CHAPTER NINE

  HARRIS

  Whoever the hell said there’s light at the end of a tunnel is full of it. As hyped up as I was earlier about feeling good, seeing the light and all that crap is gone. I’m lost in the back of my mind again. A few words out of Emmy’s mouth were all it took to trigger my thoughts right back to Mallory.

  I know I fucked up with her when I ripped her head off. I just can’t stop the chaos that snapped straight into my mind when I closed my eyes and imagined Mallory. When I opened my eyes, I realized I was only dreaming and felt like shit for being with another woman when all I was thinking about was Mallory.

  I hate that I snapped at her. All because she wanted to get to know a little something about me. Wasn’t she doing the same thing I was earlier when I asked her questions about herself? I’m worse than an asshole. I’m a fucking idiot to talk to her like that or to any woman for that matter, and now I’m standing here in the throes of possibly finding out who in the hell was behind all of this and can’t concentrate for shit. I’m ready to explode. I have the itch to kill a motherfucker or something, not that it would make any of this any better.

  “Hey.” Jade moves up beside me, her hand reaching for my arm. I tug away from her before she has the chance to make contact. I can’t afford to be distracted any more than I already am. I need to be focused.

  “I’m good,” I lie, like I’ve been doing for months now, knowing damn well she isn’t buying anything I say and neither is anyone else. Fuck them all. I need to know what they’ve found out. I’m not here for a therapy session.

  “You’re not good, brother. You look like shit. You’re sweating, and your body is shaking. Maybe you’re not ready for all of this. Why don’t you let us have solid proof before we show you anything?” I toss my stuff on top of one of the desks and run my agitated, shaking hands through my hair, while Kaleb and I stare each other down after he more than likely asked Steele to come looking for me. Now, when he sees how screwed up I am, he thinks he can change his mind. I don’t fucking think so. I’m fucking here. This is what he’s been trying to make happen for days. It’s time to get to the bottom of this, so I can find the motherfucker who ruined my life.

  “What the hell are you trying to hide from me, man?” I see nothing but guilt. His face is peppered in it.

  “Kaleb, no,” Jade interjects a little too quickly for me, but before I get a chance to respond, Kaleb jumps in.

  “Show him, Steele,” he says, and I hear Jade gasp beside me, papers shuffling, and then the sound of heavy footsteps getting closer to me. Those steps hold my life. What I’m about to see is either going to break me, or it’s going to lead me in the direction I need to heal. With shaky hands, I grab the papers, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Not a damn thing I do prepares me for what I see in front of me.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me?” I bellow out. The letterhead from USSOCOM, where Steele used to work before he decided to help on our missions by piloting the planes and choppers, has one sentence stating there are still no suspects. I flip to the next one from the FBI. Same thing. This can’t be right and yet it is. It’s staring me in the face.

  Those vague sentences have me wadding up the papers and hurling them as far as I can throw them. “Fuck all of this shit. I need some answers. Tell me you’re joking.”

  “I wish I were, man. We can’t find a thing. No clues, no reasons. Nothing. We’ve been on this since it happened. Steele has a buddy of his working day and night on this, Harris, and that doesn’t count the endless hours we’re all putting into it.” This is why he looks guilty, why they all do. They’ve all been busting their asses to try and find the murderer of the woman I loved, while I’ve been wallowing in my self-pity and barely hanging on. My friends have been in here pulling strings and busting their balls to only come to a dead end every fucking time.

  “We’re missing something. Something that’s more than likely right in front of our face,” Steele speaks up. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, exhaling slowly, trying to clear my head. I’m trying so hard to wrap it around the fact I may never know why my life was ripped from my arms. I force calmness and try to make myself see what could be that one missing piece I know they don’t.

  I open them slowly when I feel Jade’s small but firm hand on my arm. The guilt and pain radiating off of her buckles my knees. I look from her to everyone in this room, their faces resembling each other’s. This is bullshit. None of them should feel guilty. Hell, if I’m being reasonable here with trying to pull my life back together, I shouldn’t feel that way either. This is none of our faults. The only one or ones to blame are the fuckers who did this. The hollow feeling in this room ends here.

  “I want to see everything. Every person, every angle you have looked at. Whoever started this doesn’t have the power over us. I see the look on all of your faces. It’s the look I’ve been carrying around for months. Guilt doesn’t belong in this room. What does, is our experience to figure this out. The missing key is out there, and we’re going to find it.” I swallow the lump in my throat and try to stare into the eyes of each one of these friends who have given up their lives to do a job I should have been a part of all along.

  They’ve given me time to grieve. I’ll mourn for the rest of my life, but I will never be at peace and neither will they until we, as a team, bring whoever is behind this straight to the gates of hell.

  “Take a seat. It’s going to be a long day, brother.” Kaleb never takes his eyes off of me as he begins opening file after file. He’s scoping me out like any good friend would. He needs to make sure I’m ready to handle this.

  “I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t fucking ready. Now, quit looking at me like that and show me the shit I’ve missed.” I’m straight up telling him the truth.

  “I see that,” he says with only the arrogance that can come from a man like him. Cocky fucker.

  “I’m going to go make some coffee. I’ll be right back,” Jade says shakily. I know that tone. She’s worried about me.

  “I’ll take water instead,” I tell her. The corner of her lip quirks up. She’s been at me to drink water for about as long as she’s been on my ass to eat and shower. I notice the minute her face falters into a peaceful aspect of the Jade I used to joke around with. The only difference in her expression now is the sadness in her eyes. One I hope I can finally take away and replace with the icy, hardass glare that fits her call name of Ice she deservingly has.

  “I’ll help,” Kaleb says to her, giving me my clear sign to walk away. I move around the two of them, he
ading for the table in the middle of the room with a couple of laptops open, where Jackson and Steele are pulling up different files.

  “Everything from the government is in here. Jackson has all of our information on his.” I pull a chair out, turning it backward and taking a seat. Propping my elbows on the back of the chair, I begin to read the first of hundreds of pages.

  I scan through names, dates, and photographs of possible suspects. They have everyone in here, dating all the way back to my first girlfriend to a rival named Audra Shilling, who Mallory didn’t seem particular fond of in high school. There isn’t a beat missed here. I have no idea how long I sit there uninterrupted as I look from one computer to the other. Everything seems to match up.

  What the government sent, these guys followed up on and vice versa. There isn’t anything out of place. All the potential suspects have cleared alibis. The crime scene was scanned. Not that they found anything at a scene of a crime where a sniper shot into a place a million other people had walked the same route as her and I did that day.

  The investigative puzzle leads to a building across the street from where we were exiting the doctor’s office, where the sniper sat while he waited for us to come out of our monthly appointment. I fist my hands at the sight of the small apartment the piece of shit broke into. The room seems to fall quiet all around me as I scan the place out, seeking, searching, and scanning that open window as flashbacks flood my brain. It isn’t until I notice the Medical Examiners Report that I stand up, shoving the chair out of my way, and enlarge the photo of the bullet that killed her that has me seeing red. My head snaps clear of every damn thing that has been plaguing it for months.

  “Did you find something?” All the guys are right by my side. It’s Kaleb who speaks and also places his hand on my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze.

  “That’s the same bullet I was shot with. Look at the orange tip. Those bullets are rare. Extremely rare. There’s no fucking way that’s a coincidence. Please tell me you guys checked out the possibility this could be tied to what happened down in Mexico.” Kaleb grits his teeth and winces. The muscles in his jaw are ticking with pure stress. I hate bringing the hell he went through up, but fuck, I have to be sure.

  “We did check it out. The bullet, the type of gun used, all of it, man. If this was done by anyone working with his brother, then they know exactly what they are doing and who they are up against, Harris. Whoever did this has covered their tracks,” Steele pipes in. I glance back at the bullet. I know these guys have done everything they can think of. The proof is in front of me. It’s all over the place.

  I can’t stop looking at the bullet. I’m unsettled about that damn thing for some ungodly reason. Yes, a lot of people use their own hand-made ammunition; most of it sucks, because the majority of the people in this world shoot a gun for the right reason, for pleasure or hunting. Those that kill though, they have their own special ammunition, and if they want to leave a sign or a warning, then this is exactly how they do it.

  No. It isn’t a coincidence that this particular bullet that killed Mallory happened to be the same one that blew out my shoulder. I don’t buy it for one second that it is.

  What I don’t understand is why the government would stay involved if they didn’t believe this was some kind of conspiracy theory against this team of ours, or why they haven’t investigated this more. Maybe they have, and it’s something they can’t talk about. Hell, it could be a mixture of anything. If the government is involved, then they have suspicions of their own; otherwise, this would have remained a case with the local authorities.

  We may be an elite team of soldiers, but when it comes down to it, we don’t have the kind of power they do. This team knows it too; that’s why they’ve been busting day and night in here working alongside them. I could be wrong about all of this, but something eats away at me.

  “We need to get approval to take a trip to Mexico.” I swipe my hands roughly through my hair until they land on the back of my neck where I clasp them together.

  “Man, you better tell us what the hell you’re thinking right now. There’s no damn way the Army is going to let you leave the country. Not until you’re permanently cleared. We sure as hell can’t just fly across the border either. They’ve shut our go-to place down. It’s been destroyed. All that’s left are a few shacks.” Steele pauses in his rant as I stand up.

  “I’ve been medically discharged. I don’t have to answer to them anymore. Fuck, I don’t know. I have nothing to go on except a damn gut feeling, but I swear to Christ this has Mexico written all over it. Make it happen, Kaleb, get us down there.” I walk away from the table with frustration that I haven’t done any of this sooner.

  “Your superior has discharged you knowing you’re working with me. He left it so that if you decided to come back and were cleared psychologically, then he’d work the system to get you back in. Until then, you answer to me.”

  “Great, so let’s fucking go now.”

  “What makes you think I’d clear you for something like this?” He stands to meet me face-to-face with nothing but seriousness across his face.

  “You will clear me, because even in the most fucked-up state you were in, I had your damn back to go in and do what needed to fucking be done. Were you mentally there? Fuck, no. But sometimes you need this anger and fucking rage to get the job done. You’ll either come with me as a team, or you can guarantee I’ll go solo.” Our glares become like an entire conversation as we stare at each other and read the expression on the other’s face. I’m positive he knows I’m dead serious as well.

  “Your ass won’t go solo. I get it. I understand your desire to go do this yourself, but I think I need to send in some of the other guys first.”

  “Fuck off. I need this. I’ve sat cooped up for far too long. It’s time I do something, even if it leads to a dead end.”

  “We don’t even know for sure there’s anything there.”

  “We know there are piece of shit assholes there. I’d like to rid the world of a few more if given the damn chance.”

  “Well, by all means, fucking send him in to shoot up Mexico. That won’t go unnoticed,” Steele talks over Kaleb, and we both turn to face him.

  “What the fuck is your problem, Steele?” I move closer to him as my words spew anger at him.

  “This isn’t how we run shit. We go in and get out quietly and never leave a trace behind. You’re not in the right mind to go in on something like this yet. I’ll go and consider this saving your fucking life.”

  “Don’t even think about keeping me from going, Fire. This is my fight.” My rage radiates from me as I challenge him in my stare.

  “Give the guys twenty-four hours to pull more information. We’ll decide who’s going in, but Harris…” He pauses until he moves even closer to me. “You will follow orders on this, or I’ll restrain your ass to make sure of it.”

  “Don’t try to leave me here and you won’t have an issue.” He’s stubborn, but so am I. I’ll accept his challenge any damn day of the year. The Army may have left me in his care, but not one of them will do a thing to stop me from seeing this through. Every one of these guys has been trained to follow through on a hunch, especially if it’s personal.

  CHAPTER TEN

  EMMY

  I enter the house after watching Beau’s retreating back until he disappeared behind the door to the main office. I stand still for the longest time with my body plastered to the back of the door. The man is a tyrant in his own way. Something set him off, and I have no clue what. I shouldn’t give a shit either, but I do, and that right there pisses me off more than anything.

  I’ve never let a man get under my skin like this before, especially in such a short period of time. It has nothing to do with wanting to save him from himself or to help him get back to who he used to be. It has everything to do with wanting him. I find myself wanting to know all there is to know about him.

  “Well, one thing you know is, he has a tongue th
at works magic and a dick he knows how to use.” I start talking to myself before I move toward the kitchen.

  Oh, I know all too well he’s using me for nothing but a fuck, and I welcome it. Today in the field, I practically begged him to do it with the way I teased and taunted him the entire time. And now look where I am. I’m left feeling sorry for myself for the first time because of the way he fucked me then ducked me. Quite frankly, I hate this unwelcome feeling after a man fucks me. What did I expect to happen? It’s just downright stupid, and yet I would go back for more, faster than a blink of an eye.

  I groan because here I am, wanting to know everything about a man who is haunted by a past I don’t even know how to tiptoe around. I can’t comprehend the pain he’s endured and will throughout his life as he continues to live without them.

  “You need to stop, Emmy. Give the man the space he needs.” I’m smart enough to know when I’ve pushed a little too hard and stepped over boundaries that are not mine to explore.

  I leave the kitchen and head down the hallway to my room and shoving the thoughts of the day to the back of my mind. I kick off my shoes once I’m inside the large walk-in closet then place my gun case on the top shelf. My mood is shit, so I pull a yellow jersey wrap sundress off the hanger and make my way into the bathroom to shower before going to see my mom.

  After turning on the shower, stripping my clothes off, and stepping in to let the water beat down my back, I begin to slowly relax. My mom is quick witted and smart as a whip. She will pick up on my frustrations if I don’t wash them away. So that’s what I try to do. I shampoo and condition my hair, wash away the scent of sex and everything Beau, and try to finish quickly.

  I pick up my dirty clothes after deciding to let my still wet hair hang loose down my back, knowing if I put it up, it will take forever to dry. In less than a half hour, I’m walking across the compound in a pair of flip-flops, a bottle of chilled wine in my hand, and a smile on my face.