SEAL & Veteran Series: The Complete Series Page 10

  Her gaze shot to his and the confusion slowly bled to ire. “How do you know?”

  Chance cleared his throat. “Because I, uh, saw it on your phone.”

  He’d be crispy right now if flames truly shot from irises.

  “Are you telling me you read a text from Walter,” her tone so low and lethal he winced, “on my phone, then deleted it?”

  Chance adjusted his weight over his boots, bracing for impact. “Yes.”

  “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Mandy paced, her flip-flops snapping so hard, he feared they’d fly off or break.

  “I have a plan—”

  “I asked you for one thing,” she barreled over him, still pacing. “I asked you not to do anything without talking to me first.”

  Guilt swamped him like a heavy blanket but he stood by his choice. “I have a plan,” he repeated. “I’m not going off half-cocked on my own. I called Agent Butler. The one you spoke to in the FBI—”

  “I thought you understood,” she continued, pain lacing the furor in her tone. “Anything you do will have consequences.” She slapped her hands on her hips and faced him. “I thought we were a team—”

  “We are a team,” he countered, stepping forward but halted when she backed up. “But we need help from a bigger team. We can end this—”

  “Stop.” She held up a hand. “I can’t…I can’t listen to you justify going behind my back right now.” She turned and stormed out the door.

  He jammed his hands into his hair and pulled. Fuuuuuck.

  Inhaling, he forced his blood pressure to stop redlining and pulled out his phone. First things first. He had to update Agent Butler. They had a first name now and an allusion that Nolan might be part of the mob if Walter’s definition of “connected” was the same as Chance’s. Then he’d see what he could learn from Unibrow’s phone.

  14

  Mandy slammed the front door shut and had the urge to open it back up and slam it again. The pictures on the walls rattled, but she didn’t care.

  “Of all the…” Mandy stomped into the living room, then paced.

  “Mandy?” Pepper hustled from the bathroom to stop well out of range. She only had one eye made up and her hair in rollers. “What happened?”

  Mandy continued to pace.

  Pepper put her hands on her robe-clad hips. “Your dentist is going to kick your butt if you don’t stop grinding those teeth.”

  “Walter came by the garage,” Mandy snapped, pausing at the end of the couch.

  Color leached from Pepper’s face. “Chance. Is he okay?”

  Mandy snorted. “You should be asking if Walter and his two thugs are okay.”

  Pepper blinked, then a slow grin spread across her face. “Chance kicked their asses?”

  “Completely.” Mandy placed her clenched fists on her throbbing temples. “When I walked in, one was down, screaming and clutching his knee that wasn’t supposed to bend that way, the other was holding his crotch with blood pouring from his nose.” Mandy wrinkled her nose at the memory of the sight. “And Walter’s probably going to have a black eye tomorrow.”

  “Oh my.” Pepper fanned her face. “That is so frickin’ hot. I’m having a delicious fantasy right now imagining those muscles rippling while he beat them up to protect your honor.”

  “This isn’t funny,” Mandy barked, straightening.

  “I didn’t say it was.” Pepper dropped her arm. “But, come on, you were there. You can’t tell me you didn’t find it even a little bit hot that your man took out three thugs with no problem.”

  “Fine,” Mandy begrudgingly agreed. “It was hot.”

  Pepper hummed.

  “But that’s not the point,” Mandy rallied. “I asked him to talk to me first before he did anything.” She jabbed her finger in the air. “You know what he did instead? Erased a text from Walter and met the weasel himself without telling me.” She couldn’t keep still, so she paced again. “I’ll be lucky if the bookie doesn’t order Walter to firebomb the garage in retaliation. I mean, seriously. What was he thinking?”

  “He was thinking of you,” Pepper answered the rhetorical question. “Mandy,” she chided. “The man’s a decorated SEAL. Of course he’s going to protect the woman he loves.”

  Mandy’s heart panged on that blunt pronouncement but she pushed it aside.

  “He knows you’re in trouble,” Pepper kept going. “He’s going to do whatever it takes to make you safe.”

  “By lying to me and going behind my back? He’s supposed to talk to me,” Mandy mumbled.

  Her roommate padded into the room, forcing Mandy to stop. “And if he had, you would have tied his hands. Forced him to do nothing out of fear while Walter continued harassing you and taking all your money.” She let out a small laugh. “Remember that time when Chance nearly broke Wade’s arm when we were freshman because Wade threw a rock at Lee’s head?”

  Mandy snorted. “The whole school wouldn’t stop talking about it for months.”

  “Yeah, and this is way bigger than a rock to the head.” She enveloped Mandy’s hands. “Your father’s debt is not your fault nor should it be your responsibility, but you’ve been paying the price since he died. Chance is not going to sit by and watch you suffer.”

  “I couldn’t live with myself if he got hurt.”

  “And he couldn’t live with himself if he did nothing to help you.” Pepper squeezed her hands. “Mandy, he’s got training and skills in warfare. He probably knows fifty ways to kill a man with tweezers. It’s not such a bad thing that Walter and this bookie know you’re not alone anymore. That you’re not going to be an easy target.”

  “But going after them like this won’t do anything but piss them off.”

  “And placating them the way you’ve done for two years hasn’t done anything but cause you misery and fear,” Pepper shot back. “I applaud Chance standing up for you. I think it’s time for Walter and this bookie to get the message you’re done playing by their rules.”

  “Chance did mention he’d talked to that guy at the FBI,” Mandy admitted, still hating that Chance had opened himself up for risk. No, that her father put them into this situation in the first place.

  “See!” Pepper clapped her hands. “He’s trying to do this the smart way. Now what are you going to do to help him?”

  Book him on a one-way ticket to Paris? she silently retorted. God, she wanted him safe. But that couldn’t happen until they resolved this debt issue once and for all. Together. As a team. If she could get him to remember that she’s a partner in this, and keep him from going behind her back again, then she’d do her best to be open-minded about whatever scary plan he had cooked up.

  Hugging Pepper tight, she whispered, “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  “Damn straight.” Pepper returned the hug, then pulled back. “Let’s de-stress with a mani-pedi and maybe some Mai Tai’s at Lunar Brewery for Happy Hour. Or,” Pepper wiggled her eyebrows, “we skip the drinks and hit the mall in Columbus for lingerie. Your man deserves some extra special sexy times after beating up three guys for you.”

  Mandy rolled her eyes, then stopped. “Okay. Maybe I could use your help with sexy underwear. You’re way more versed than me, and I would love to see Chance’s tongue hit the floor.”

  “This is going to be so much fun,” Pepper squealed and clapped her hands. “I can’t wait to get you out of those ugly, economy-pack, cotton panties.”

  Mandy flipped through the gossip magazine, not really interested in the pictures. Her mind continuously chewed on Pepper’s words at the house. Crystal, the middle-aged pedicurist, patted Mandy’s foot, and she dutifully dunked it back into the swirling hot water.

  Pedicures were an indulgence she rarely participated in but she had to admit, she didn’t mind being pampered. Maybe the Barbie-bots were onto something with all their primping…nah. Mandy had no desire to stand in front of a mirror slathering on make-up and spending hours taming her hair. And wearing sandals with heels. She sh
uddered.

  “So, Jack switched my schedule,” Pepper announced, resting her magazine on her tanned thighs. Her tiny red shorts and matching red and white flowered tank put Mandy’s T-shirt and plain khaki shorts to shame. “Which is total BS,” she continued to rant. “I have seniority. I should be working tonight. I get way more tips on a Saturday than Sunday.”

  “That’s good,” Mandy replied absently.

  “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?” Pepper accused.

  “Not really,” Mandy admitted sheepishly.

  “It’s new love,” Crystal inserted sagely. “Well, I guess in your case it’d be rekindled love. But it always addles the brain when it first hits.”

  Mandy blinked. Did everyone think she and Chance were in love? Was she in love? Did Chance think they were in love? He’d never said the words. Then again, neither had she. She still hadn’t decided if it was nostalgia or him she loved.

  Liar.

  “And from what I hear about Chance stocking up on supersized boxes of condoms in the pharmacy,” Crystal cackled while shaping Mandy’s toenail, “she’s lucky if she can remember her name. That boy…” Crystal licked her lips and made yummy noises. “Came back mighty fine.”

  “Right?” Pepper laughed and slapped her thigh. “All three McCallisters are too hot for their own good. And Harris…” She fanned herself with the magazine. “Dear Lord in heaven. He already knew what to do with a woman’s body, but let’s just say he gained a few more skills along with those muscles.”

  Taffy, the woman working on Pepper’s feet, exploded with laughter and high-fived Pepper, then Crystal. “I’m so jealous.” She pulled out a different type of file from her tray. “I should have hunted Lee down before he left on that road trip. Those amber eyes,” she shuddered with naughty memories filling her irises, “gorgeous and so intense when they latch on to you.”

  Taffy had been two years behind Mandy and Pepper in school, which meant she was only a year younger than Lee. Mandy agreed about Lee’s eyes. The color was so unusual. Yet they didn’t fascinate her the way Chance’s did every time she—

  The bell rang at the front of the store and for some reason the hair rose on Mandy’s arms.

  “Hey!” Wanda, the owner of the salon, shouted. “You can’t barge in here.” A chair scraped across the tile. “Hey! I’m talking to you.”

  Mandy snapped her gaze toward the front of the store and blanched.

  Two men in black suits barreled past the stylist’s chairs, heading straight toward her.

  Wanda raised her arm and chased after them. “You need to make an appointment if you want to be back here.”

  They ignored her.

  Mandy swallowed hard and the magazine crinkled in her tightening fists. Shadows loomed, blotting out the florescent lighting overhead, and they stopped beside her chair.

  “I’m talking to you,” Wanda snapped, worming her way in front of the men.

  Peering around the owner, Left Thug with chocolatey brown eyes announced in a dead monotone, “Mr. Nickel would like to have a word with you.”

  “Who the hell is Mr. Nickel?” Pepper barked, jerking forward.

  Left Thug ignored her roommate, his attention focused solely on Mandy. “He’s a busy man. We’ll take you to him now.”

  “Who do you—”

  “It’s okay, Wanda,” Mandy cut the proprietress off, her heart lurching to her throat. “Pepper, it’s okay. I’d love to talk to Mr. Nickel.”

  The overwhelming urge to retch from terror belied her words. She had a feeling she knew exactly who Mr. Nickel was. And it was time they had a face to face. Besides, it was clear that she’d be going with these men whether she wanted to or not. If she went quietly, maybe no one else in the salon would be harmed.

  Bravados R Us, her mind snarked as she pulled her other foot from the water. Maybe she could reason with the bookie and find a solution that didn’t endanger Chance or herself and end this once and for all.

  And maybe she’d find a ’63 Corvette Stingray convertible in her garage when she got home. Neither were going to happen.

  15

  At five o’clock on the dot, Chance locked the front door and clomped to the register. He’d fixed the wiper blade display and mopped up the blood on the cement floor earlier. No one would know anything had happened by looking at the place.

  A flash of Mandy’s enraged expression parked in his mind, front and center. Shit.

  He had to figure out how to fix the damage he’d done. She hadn’t called him or responded to the text he’d sent this afternoon. Rooting inside the left pocket of his coveralls, he carefully extracted a three-by-three photo.

  His talisman. His one piece of home he never went anywhere without.

  The photo he’d cut to fit in his gear showed him and Mandy during the town’s Fourth of July barbeque celebration the summer before his senior year. He had his arm slung around her shoulders and she’d wrapped her arm around his chest. With their cheeks pressed together, they’d grinned at the camera Lee was holding like they hadn’t a care in the world. So in love it radiated out of them. Sunlight beamed off the grass in the background and glistened off the freckles on the bridge of her nose. Beautiful. He’d always wondered how he could interest a goddess like her, but he was never stupid enough to ask, afraid she’d wake up and wonder the same thing.

  Gently rubbing his thumb across the front in a familiar path, he stared at the picture he’d carried every day for twelve years. In every mission and every deployment, he’d kept this photo as close to his heart as possible. It had brought him luck, and it had both warmed and haunted him.

  And all that time, he’d loved her every minute of every day, even if he hadn’t been brave enough to admit it to himself until now.

  He had to find a way to make her listen. He could free her from the bookie’s hold if she trusted and believed in him. Doing nothing was not an option anymore.

  His cellphone rang, and he put the photo away and fished the device out of his other pocket.

  “Agent Butler,” he greeted, his heart thumping. Please be good news.

  “Chance, I got a hit on that name you gave me.” Mark Butler dove right into the topic. “Nolan Nickel is based in Atlanta and has been suspected of organized crime for a while.”

  Everything in Chance stilled.

  “Law enforcement on all levels have been investigating him, but no one’s been able to get anything to stick,” the agent continued in his no-nonsense way. “The few times charges were filed, witnesses always ended up backing out, leaving the district attorney with just circumstantial evidence. Nothing that could convict.”

  “You won’t have that problem with me,” Chance stated, meaning every word. “I want that asshole away from Mandy and behind bars.”

  “You and me both,” Agent Butler retorted. “But to do that, we need proof Nolan’s the one who has been sending his thugs to collect the money from Mandy. If we can prove he’s threatening her, we can go after him.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” he promised. Fingers crossed his asking for her help with a plan would smooth things over. “Once we have something, I’ll call you back.”

  Hanging up, Chance stuffed his phone into his pocket and debated whether he should go to her house or wait for her to approach him—

  Thunk. Thunk-thunk. Thunk.

  Chance snapped his head up at the car doors shutting and growled. Walter led four thugs toward the front door.

  Unwilling to let them tear up the shop again if it got ugly, he grabbed Unibrow’s phone from beside the register and met the unwelcome committee outside.

  “Yikes.” Chance purposefully studied Walter’s swollen left cheek with a darkening black eye. “That’s got to hurt, although it improves your looks drastically.”

  Someone snickered and Walter glowered at Chance, then motioned to Buzz Cut thug.

  Buzz Cut swiped his phone awake, then held it up for Chance to see.

  Mandy sat in a chair wearing the sa
me clothes as earlier. Fear had leached the color from her skin and her eyes seemed to beg Chance for something. His caveman side interpreted it as her begging him to save her.

  Chance’s mind quieted, and he instantly went to the place inside he reserved for missions. Men were going to die today, and he’d be their grim reaper. It wasn’t a part of the mission he liked, but when it was necessary, he would do what needed to be done.

  He had planned to obtain evidence for the FBI. Planned to use the courts to enact justice. But that was before they declared war. Before they took his woman. Before Chance had to stare at a picture of Mandy with fear in her eyes.

  They all died. Every. Last. One.

  He snapped his eyes up and Buzz Cut and three other thugs stepped back.

  “Who touched her?” he asked in a low, lethal voice, measuring every goon’s expression.

  Two of them swallowed hard and shot each other a look.

  You two die first, he promised them.

  “You can’t touch us,” Walter sneered, obviously too stupid to understand he’d already condemned himself. “You do anything,” the collector pointed at the phone still raised in Buzz Cut’s meaty hand, “your girlfriend pays the price.”

  You die next, Chance pledged to Walter. In fact, you die the slowest. He’d make sure Walter lost his voice from screaming in pain before he ended it. Chance owed him for two years of terrorizing Mandy.

  Walter lifted his chin but his tremoring body belied his bluster. “You’re coming with us.”

  “Am I.” Chance didn’t ask, he challenged.

  “Mr. Nickel wants to talk to you.” Walter shifted, his feet fidgeting as much as his fingers. “If you’re good, you can take that bit—Mandy with you if Mr. Nolan lets you leave.”

  “First, you touch Mandy.” Chance adjusted his weight over his feet. “Then, order me to come with you. Now, tell me I might not come back.” Cracking his neck, he squared his shoulders. “Not really seeing the incentive to play nice.”