Prologue
“Michael? You scared me. What is going on with you?” Mariah asked her brother as he snuck up behind her. She was getting in late from hanging out with her friends.
“You should have been home over an hour ago,” he reprimanded her, and then ran his fingers through his hair. He was breathing heavy and seemed upset, almost in a panic.
“Are you okay?” she asked, letting her hand fall from the doorknob and choosing not to enter their uncle’s house.
He walked over toward the front of the porch and the night sky. He appeared out of nowhere, like a shadow in the night, and without a sound.
His silence put her on edge. It always did, because since he’d retired from the Marines and was working undercover for the police department, she worried about him. Nearly losing him in battle in Iraq was enough to make her protective.
He turned back toward her and reached out his hand.
“Come here,” he whispered, and she immediately walked toward him and right into his arms. Standing at six feet tall, with lots of muscles and an authoritative attitude, he made her feel protected. He was a great big brother, and after losing their parents in a car accident, they had survived because of the strong bond between them.
“I’m sorry
that I scared you. It wasn’t my intention,” he said as she stepped from his embrace, while he caressed her hair away from her cheek. He stared down into her eyes. He seemed different.
“No big deal. You probably miss sneaking up on people, and jumping the enemy,” she teased. He smiled.
He seemed to have a lot on his mind as he looked away from her and then out toward the darkness.
“Mariah, I need to tell you something. I need you to promise me that you’ll never repeat any of this to anyone. Please,” he asked her, and she instantly felt concerned.
“What is it?”
“Do you promise me?” She nodded her head.
“There are things going on with work. Things I can’t discuss, but I need to try and ensure your safety, and Uncle Jeb’s.”
“What things?”
“Just things. Not for you to worry about, but because of what’s going on, I want to be cautious.”
“Cautious? Is it serious?”
“Things are going on. It’s come to my attention that some people I’ve thought of as close friends, really aren’t. I want you to be careful with whom you share things. I mean your emotions, the family events that have taken place. I don’t want you to trust so easily.”
“I’m confused. What would your job and a situation have to do with me?”
“It could affect you. Just please, listen to me. Be careful and wary of those claiming to be friends of mine. I’ve found out some things, and I’m worried about you.”
“Sure does sound like a lot of ‘things’ as you keep calling them are going on. Can’t you completely confide in me?”
“No. I can’t, because I don’t want you to get caught in the middle of something. Can you please just remember this conversation? Remember, people aren’t always who they say they are. Friends can even stab you in the back when you don’t expect it.”
“Okay. I will.”
Mariah felt the tears roll down her cheeks as she recalled the last conversation she’d had with Michael. It had been so cryptic and she couldn’t help but wonder why he’d told her those things. Who was a true friend and who wasn’t? Was there more to his death than what the department was saying? She wondered, and in her mind she prayed that she would find the answers and prove Michael’s innocence.
As she looked around the funeral home as friends and family paid their respects, she couldn’t help but wonder who was faking sadness, and who Michael’s true friends were. Jax and Jameson Spaulding were there. They had been friends of Michael’s for years. Duke, Big Jay, and Sandman were also there. Sandman was a Federal Agent. Perhaps he wasn’t to be trusted? She looked toward the right. Gunner, Garrett, and Wes were there. Gunner was a Texas Ranger. Maybe he knew something, or had been involved? Wes was a football coach. He couldn’t be involved, and Garrett was just too damn nice and worked at Casper’s. No way would he be dishonest. She took a deep breath and pressed her fingers over the bridge of her nose. All this conspiracy was getting to her. She was smarter than this. She knew what she needed to do. Applying for her master’s abroad was her best option. She wasn’t a trained killer. She didn’t have resources like the rest of these men and women did. She only had her determination and her knack for numbers.
Her brother had trained her well, and without anyone’s knowledge of a damn thing. Sure, Michael had trained her for the soul purpose of handling herself and not becoming a victim. But the things she’d learned how to do, and was capable of doing, fell into the category of lethal force. She may not be able to pull a trigger, but she would do what was necessary to seek revenge. She just needed to identify Eduardo DeLacruz.
* * * *
L.T. Montgomery swallowed hard as he waited in line to pay his respects to one of his best friends and fellow troop. They had all been a team in the special service unit for years. When they retired, they retired together.
He watched Mariah, Michael’s sister, as she looked around the room, almost as if she were in another world. His heart ached for her. He knew how much Michael had loved his sister. He had chosen to move closer to his uncle’s house, taking a position in the police department and commuting to the city. In a matter of two years, so much had changed.
Michael had become distant, and their visits with him were few and far between. The rest of the team, Quentin, Deacon, and Axel felt it, too. It seemed that they were the ones who had become dependent on one another and probably to a fault.
Seeing Mariah again brought back the memories of those visits the past two years, and a fondness for her that he really shouldn’t be having.
It was only a year ago that he’d held her in his arms and she’d tried to kiss him. He wanted that. He’d craved it every night thereafter, but he couldn’t let her kiss him. He wouldn’t give into a temptation that would only lead her to heartache. He and his team were one unit. She was young and impressionable, and Michael’s little sister.
But Mariah had that way about her. She was very pretty, but she was also innocent and sweet. Something a man his age, with his history of hard experiences, should stay clear of.
It was his turn to approach the casket, and with one look at Mariah, he felt the emotion clog his throat.
L.T. stared in shock as he knelt in front of the casket. It was closed, and for good reason. The man had been tortured and shot multiple times. They couldn’t let Mariah know the details they’d discovered, thanks to Sandman. His comrade, his best friend, Michael Langcaster was dead. Three fucking years. Three years in that Godforsaken hellhole in the middle of Iraq with mortars firing off around five of us, roadside bombs, sneak attacks by the enemy, and Michael dies on American soil, execution-style? What the fuck?
He looked to the left. There stood Mariah and her uncle, Jeb. Michael’s only family, his baby sister, twenty years old, was dressed all in black, tears streaming down her cheeks, still in shock. They all were.
L.T. glanced over his shoulder as he stood up and prepared to give his respects to Mariah and her uncle, next. His brothers. What was left of his team, Axel, Quentin, and Deacon, lined up behind him to say good-bye to Michael.
“Mariah, I’m so sorry for your loss. I…I just can’t believe that he’s gone,” L.T. stuttered. He was so taken aback by this. He couldn’t believe it.
Mariah nodded her head as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She pulled L.T. into a hug, and he thought he would lose it. She was youthful, beautiful, and so damn sweet and innocent. Michael had protected her like a good big brother. L.T. was worried about her safety now. He and his team would need to ensure her protection. It’s what Michael would have wanted.
“It is a shock, L.T. I still can’t believe he’s gone. Thank you for coming, and for helping out with the arrangements,” she whispered and then pulled back.
He felt a twinge of regret from the loss of her embrace. He wasn’t a cuddling kind of guy. In fact, he preferred remaining disconnected from people. It made things easier when he had to leave on a mission or when the person disappointed him and left. It stemmed from his intense training in the Marines and their special division.
He stared down into her eyes. The color was always so blue and bright, but not today.
She stepped away to give a hug to Axel, as L.T. shook Uncle Jeb’s hand.
Axel was a big man. Six feet three, huge muscles, tattoos down his arm. When that man approached, people moved out of the way immediately. He was the epitome of intimidation. But then again, they all were.
L.T. watched as his men, his good friends, one by one greeted Mariah and then Jeb. Quentin wrapped her in his arms so tightly, he lifted her off the floor, causing her to not quite chuckle, but almost sob. The tears flowed. Quentin was always greeting Mariah the same way, each time they came to visit. Which hadn’t been too often. Quentin was a wild one, and had always had that special charm that all the ladies liked. Mariah wasn’t resistant to it either.