Protecting Mari (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Counterstrike Book 1) Read online

  “She’s coming home with me. None of the safehouses have security.”

  “Neither does our place,” Milo replied.

  “We’ll be there. That’ll do until we can get a bead on systems.”

  “Guess this favor for Tex is a bit more involved than we realized.”

  That was an understatement. “Her ex is a cop from what I gathered. We need to get more from Tex.”

  “We’ve got data coming in.” Milo paused. “He’s a sergeant in Homicide. Divorce was messy, restraining orders.”

  “Kids?”

  “No,” Milo responded. “Her status?”

  “A battered face and a couple of broken ribs.” He paused his pacing and growled the rest into the phone. “Bite marks on her breasts and chest area. Potential hairline fracture of her forearm. She was taken to x-ray to confirm the arm and ribs.”

  “Did they call in a crime scene unit?”

  “Yes, grudgingly. They collected her clothing and are processing the apartment for prints.” Ethan stared down the hall where they’d taken Mari.

  He should have insisted on remaining with her. She’d slipped in and out of her head since his arrival. One minute she was alert and standing her ground with the cops and the next she was zoned.

  Shock.

  “Will she be okay at our place with just the two of us, or should I call Jen and have her get a guestroom at her place next door ready?”

  Their little sister, Jen, lived next door in a small three-bedroom bungalow. They’d acquired both properties and spent a small fortune overhauling them. Given their location within highly sought-after Hyde Park, it had been a great investment.

  He and Milo had gone into business with Jen to form Counterstrike after they’d left the service a year before. Though they were still getting situated, they’d managed to solidify themselves within the Austin metroplex as the best nonprofit resource for victims of domestic violence, and anyone else needing help in situations where they were the underdog. No one should suffer because they couldn’t afford help.

  “We’ll likely need her help at some point, but don’t wake her until I assess the situation closer. So far Marisol’s not exhibiting signals she’s nervous around me. I think we’ll be fine. Get the guest room on my floor ready, though.”

  “Will do. I’ll send a couple guys over to the apartment after the cops are finished. We can get Jessica to run prints and evidence we gather, as a secondary precaution.”

  Jessica Randolph was a family friend who’d started a private crime lab a few years earlier after her sister’s murder investigation was botched because of faulty evidence handling. She left her cushy job in California as Assistant Chief Medical Examiner and founded Second Trace with a couple of her associates.

  She offered pro bono work to them as her time permitted, which was often since she was a workaholic dedicated to helping people uncover the truth she was denied.

  Movement in Ethan’s periphery drew his attention. He tracked Marisol’s progression down the hall and toward him. Shoulders drawn inward, eyes cast downward, she trudged alongside the nurse, who seemed more impatient than situationally aware.

  The woman in pink scrubs spoke fast and loud, but Ethan doubted Mari had heard a single word. She stopped when the nurse put a hand on her arm. Blinked.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  Mari shook her head.

  “I’m going to need you to go over everything again with me,” Ethan ordered. “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s in shock. She won’t remember much of what you said.”

  “And you are?” The older woman peered at him over her glasses.

  “A friend,” he replied.

  “Do you know him, ma’am?” The woman looked at Mari, who shuffled toward Ethan the moment he outstretched his arm.

  She curled into his side and settled her head on his chest. Protectiveness swelled within him. He didn’t know why she trusted him enough to do it, and he didn’t much care. He’d fight the entire APD to keep her safe if that’s what was needed.

  The nurse sighed and went through the discharge paperwork a second time. Prescriptions in hand, Ethan made quick work of getting Mari out of the hospital and situated in his truck. The sooner he got her home where she could rest, the better. Sleep might prove difficult for her, but it would help her bruised body begin the healing process.

  Chapter 2

  A thud woke her.

  June Bug was up to her troubles again. “Not now, June Bug, Momma needs her rest.”

  Mari reached out to stroke June Bug’s soft fur. Her fingertips brushed across warmth. Hot, smooth skin. Weird. She stroked down, traced the distinctive curve.

  Fear ignited her pulse as she yanked her hand back.

  An ear.

  She screamed.

  Mari woke with a start. She pivoted out of the bed and crashed onto the floor. Pain rolled through her in angry, stab-like sensations along her side. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her pulse thrummed in her ears as her gaze flitted around the room.

  Not her room.

  “The lamp beside you is touch activated.” The voice made her jump as she angled to her knees and peered toward the light spilling in from the doorway. A large shadow stood there, but the voice continued, stilling her thoughts. “You’re safe, Marisol. I’m Ethan, we met at your place a few hours ago.”

  A few hours ago.

  Right.

  He’d taken on Paul and then insisted she go to the hospital.

  Everything after that fuzzed in her brain. How had she gotten here? Where the heck was here?

  “You fell asleep in my truck. You’re at my house, in a guest room. You’re safe, Marisol.”

  He repeated the latter once again, as if book ending the fact he’d started with. She focused on it, repeated it in a loop as she stood and looked down at the scrubs she barely remembered changing into after they’d taken pictures.

  Pictures of the bite marks. The bruising—what little there was so far. The nurse said it’d take a while for the worst of them to show. She’d given Mari a number of where to text pictures of them when they did.

  She’d have to send pictures of her naked, bitten to hell, bruised breasts to a stranger’s number. She swallowed and forced her mind away from those particular thoughts.

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she whispered, unsure exactly how that had happened. She’d thought she’d never sleep again, yet she’d literally gone so comatose she’d fallen asleep in a stranger’s truck.

  He’d freaking carried her into his house, or she assumed as much since she had no clue how she would’ve gotten inside otherwise.

  Adrenaline surged within her as her fight or flight response kicked in again. The damn thing activated instantaneously. Slow reactions resulted in pain, and she’d never been a big fan of that.

  Chester wouldn’t be too happy that she’d filed a police report. He’d send someone else to hurt her. That someone would hurt anyone between her and him. The thought spiraled her mind onto a new path.

  Ethan had been nice, he’d gotten her away when she needed to go anywhere but where she was at. But she couldn’t let him or anyone else get hurt by Chester and the assholes who did his bidding.

  “I should go.” She yanked on the bottom of her scrubs even though everything was hanging where it should. The sooner she got away from Ethan, the better for him. “Thanks for your help.”

  He angled away from the entry, as if offering her room to pass. Arms crossed, his full lips thinned into a grim line. “You’re not leaving, Marisol.”

  “Mari,” she corrected. “Friends call me Mari, and anyone who stands up against my ex’s asshole friends gets to be mine, whether they want to or not.”

  “Well, Mari, I was raised to believe friends didn’t abandon friends having troubles. And you, sweetheart, have a big pile of those slithering all around you like an angry nest of vipers.” He took a couple steps into the room, toward the curtains and pulled them open. Sunlight filtered in from
the outside, bathing the area in warm, refreshing rays. “There’s a bathroom behind you. My sister Jen lives next door. She brought over some clothes for you to use, but the pants might be a bit long. She’s taller than you.”

  Mari glanced over at the pile of clothes on the edge of a gorgeous cherry wood dresser. Shock coiled through her as June Bug crawled from underneath the bed and wound around her feet. She fell to her knees and hugged her kitty close as moisture burned within her watery gaze.

  “I asked Twitch to bring her here, figured she’d be happier with you,” the man commented. “And seeing a friendly face when you’re waking up somewhere strange is always welcome, especially after you’ve had a scare.”

  She looked around the immaculate room, then down at her long-haired menace. To say June Bug was a troublemaker was an understatement. “Thank you. I’ll make sure she behaves. I can keep her locked in her carrier.”

  “There’s no need. She’s already explored the whole house while you’ve been asleep. She and Chompers have reached a tentative understanding.”

  “Chompers?”

  Ethan whistled, low and long. The click clack of nails across hardwood floors echoed from down the hall. She drew June Bug closer and stood as a massive German Shepherd entered the small bedroom. Tongue lolling to the side, Chompers sat on his ass at Ethan’s feet and stared at Mari and June Bug.

  She rubbed June Bug’s head and took a step closer to the gorgeous dog watching her with such curiosity and enthusiasm, his entire body trembled. He whined low but remained in position. Ethan made a gesture and the animal rose, taking a step to close the distance.

  And sniffed her outstretched hand. A few ear scratches later and she and Chompers were the best of buds. June Bug, on the other hand, wasn’t a fan. She hissed and growled her mock anger.

  “Don’t mind her, she’s always growly at first, then she adapts,” Mari commented. “I foster dogs and kitties waiting for permanent homes quite a bit.” She bit her lip as regret filled her. “Or I used to.”

  “We’ll get you back to the life you deserve to have and away from the one you’ve been forced into, Mari. It might take some effort, and fuck knows it won’t be pleasant for you, not by any stretch of the imagination.” Ethan took a couple steps forward, reached out and ran a hand along the side of her face.

  The tentative graze of his fingertips sent a shockwave of awareness rippling through her. The gentle glide along the undamaged portion of her face made her heart thud hard in her chest. June Bug began purring in her arms.

  “Whoever did this,” he whispered, “will pay tenfold. No one strikes a woman and gets by with it.”

  God.

  The fierceness and ironclad confidence he exuded tumbled from him in thick, comforting waves. He had no doubt he’d find the bastard who’d hurt her. For the first time since she’d been woken at 3:04 a.m., she had a firm grip on hope. Determination. Resolve.

  It would be okay because her brother’s friend Tex had made it so by calling Ethan Davenport, aka Gemini. She swallowed the thank you lodged in her throat. She’d already expressed her gratitude and knew that if the man before her was anything like her brother, he wouldn’t want to hear it too often.

  You don’t thank a man like me for doing my job, sis.

  She’d find a better way to express her gratitude somehow. For now, she’d graciously accept the help he offered, whatever that might be.

  “I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen. You okay with omelets for a late brunch?”

  Her stomach rumbled. Heat rose in her face as he flashed a sexy grin that singed her clear to her toes. Damn. Ethan Davenport was dangerous to the senses, the kind of temptation she’d been sorely lacking in her life for months.

  No, years.

  Awareness beaded in tiny goosebumps along her arms as he took June Bug from her, like he’d been a lifelong friend to the finicky feline and not a total stranger. Any apprehension she’d had about Ethan died when the cat rubbed her head against the man’s hand.

  June Bug had always hated Chester. He’d been a kitten back then, one she’d saved from a watery grave. It’d been by a twist of bad luck she’d met Chester, who’d been doing a brief stint in the Animal Cruelty unit of APD to help cover a shortage. Going out for coffee with him had been the first big mistake of her life.

  Marrying him had been the biggest mistake of the century.

  She pushed back the unwanted memories and padded into the bathroom. The sooner she showered and changed, the sooner she could figure out what the hell to do. Someone had broken into her home.

  Hurt her.

  At least you weren’t raped.

  The nurse’s comment from earlier echoed in her brain. Yeah, she hadn’t been raped by the bastard. She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the massive shower. Warmth seeped into her as the water sprayed downward in a soft, slow patter resembling rain. She reached up and adjusted the showerhead until it became a torrential downpour that more matched the emotional upheaval rising in her throat.

  Arms curled to her bite-riddled chest, she cried.

  Alone in a stranger’s shower, she sobbed and silently thanked whatever divine fate had finally given her a semblance of assistance in the form of a stranger named Tex.

  And Ethan Davenport.

  She hadn’t divulged everything to the officer who took her statement earlier. She hadn’t been ready, and she’d doubted he would have bothered to write it down.

  But she needed to give the truth to someone. She wasn’t just guessing that the bastard who’d broken in was sent by her ex. She knew. The bastard who’d hurt her made sure she knew who to thank for his arrival in her nightmares.

  Chester says hello, cunt.

  She’d locked away that portion of the hell deep, tucking it away so she’d survive the ordeal with the APD. No one there would give a damn or believe her, not when their golden boy Chester was involved.

  Sooner or later she’d have to share the truth with someone or move the hell on. She couldn’t give her asshole ex-husband the satisfaction of winning this battle, not when he’d won almost every other one so far. She may have divorced him, but he was never, ever going to leave her be.

  “You want me to go in there?” Jen asked quietly as she came to a halt where Ethan stood just outside the hall.

  He’d returned to make sure Mari found the towels, but the sounds of her violent sobs filtered into the hallway. He shook his head. The woman needed help, but for now, she needed time alone to come to terms with the fact the war she waged was no longer solely hers.

  “I need to make a call.” He pulled out his cell and headed downstairs before he lost all semblance of control and went into the bathroom. The urge to draw the beautiful woman into his arms and hold her was damn near impossible to ignore.

  “I’ve got a friend digging into Chester,” Tex said the moment he picked up. “Say the word and my buddy in the Texas Rangers will be all over this asshole.”

  Although Ethan would love nothing more than to sic the Texas Rangers on Mari’s ex-husband, he wanted to play this smart in a way that would give the woman a permanent exit from the bastard. “We need a firmer grasp on what this assault was. I want that bastard first, then we’ll deal with the asshole ex.”

  “The two are likely connected. Either that or she’s the unluckiest woman in Austin,” Tex commented. “Three cars vandalized, two totaled from the damage. Two break-ins at two other apartments—all in the span of a year and a half since the divorce finalized. The bastard kept her in court long enough to chew through her savings. Credit cards are maxed. She’s working two jobs, neither pay anything close to what she needs to tread water.”

  “How much?”

  “I’m not giving you this so you can wash it away courtesy of Davenport dollars,” Tex replied.

  “I’m not sitting back and letting her drown when I can clear the debt with a day’s worth of interest off money I couldn’t care less about.” He glanced at his brother, who froze mid-chop. “How mu
ch?”

  Eyebrows raised, Milo made no qualms about the fact he was listening in. Ethan pushed the speaker button so Tex’s voice boomed within the area. The money wasn’t just Ethan’s, which meant he owed Milo a chance to weigh in.

  “You do this, it can’t be undone.”

  “Break it down for us,” Ethan requested.

  “Legal fees alone are well into five figures, but there’s a mountain of credit card debt. Beth’s pulling the details. Some scumbag fly-by-night lawyer has her bent over with a twenty percent interest rate from what we’ve dug up,” Tex said. “All together, we’re looking at close to sixty. She’s done a hell of a job trying to keep her head above water, but she’s drowning. And from what I can see, her bastard ex is holding her head under to make sure she does it quick.”

  Ethan’s gaze flicked to Milo, whose jaw twitched. Lips thinned, he offered a brief nod, then went back to chopping with more force than necessary.

  “Wash it away, whatever it takes. You’ve got access to what you need.”

  He, Milo and Jen had agreed Counterstrike was the best way to use the old man’s blood money. Mari’s situation involved an abusive cop, though, which meant things had ramped up to an entirely new level of potential problems, one they’d needed to address long ago.

  The security systems they used were total shit.

  “We’ve avoided an overhaul of our security systems long enough, Tex. I need to know who’s the best. No expense spared.”

  “It’s about time. Dinosaurs had better systems than that shit your mom’s buddy installed.”

  Ethan couldn’t argue.

  “You’ve got a few options, all top of the line,” Tex commented. “I hoped you’d want to take this plunge, so I looked into an option too good to pass up a couple weeks ago.”

  The man’s voice was hesitant, an uncommon occurrence. “And that is? Spit it out.”

  “The Mason brothers are running a new operation, three hours south of you, in Resino where they grew up. They’re solid in a way no one can deny.”