His Hart's Command (Nothing Special 6)

“No. No one will know.” Hart leaned down and hugged her tightly. He felt her sigh and squeeze him back. He dropped his head and whispered against her temple, “You’re gonna be fine, Mary. Whatever your new life is, try to embrace it. Okay? Don’t fight it and you’ll be just fine.”

She smiled somberly. “Yeah. I’ll try my best.”

Hart pulled back and nodded once to the FBI Agent waiting to take her to the airport. Where she’d land, he didn’t know. He returned her wave as the unmarked car disappeared from his sight. Hart got into the passenger seat of the armored truck and motioned for his team to move. “Let’s roll out. Time to go home.”

“Big roger on that, Captain,” his sergeant responded happily, maneuvering the huge APC—armored personnel carrier—out of the parking lot. An unnerving anxiety settled over Hart as they merged onto I-75. There was a certain individual back in Atlanta who he was dying to see, but he was unsure what the hell he was gonna say when he saw him. It was about time he stopped being coy. A grown ass man—a single man—at age forty-four should be able to go after what he wanted.

“So, Cap. What exactly did you do for Ms. Maryanne last night that made her so damn appreciative?” Fox asked him.

Hart didn’t bother to look at his lieutenant. He was sure Fox had that annoyingly sly smile on his face, and he wasn’t in the mood to slap it off. “You’re all animals, including you, Dinah.”

“Hey. I didn’t ask the stupid question, Fox did. But, inquiring minds do wanna know,” his sergeant chimed in. Dinah was a beautiful black woman with long black and blonde dreadlocks that she kept pulled up into a large, complex bun at the base of her neck. She was a gorgeous scorpion with a vicious sting. And Hart fully relied on her and his lieutenant to help him manage a high-demand SWAT team.

“Inquiring minds? More like nosy minds wanna know. Trifling minds wanna know. Crass minds wanna—”

“Oh come on. We’re not any of those things,” Fox said from the rear. “But, you can’t expect a woman to confess those kinds of sentiments in front of all of us and we not ask about it.”

“True. You were in her boudoir for a long time, Cap.” Dinah chuckled, pushing the diesel truck hard down the interstate.

“‘Boudoir’?” Hart laughed.

Dinah rolled her brown eyes, “You know what I mean. In her bedchamber.”

“I wasn’t in her boudoir or freakin’ chamber. I was in the witness’s room comforting her.”

A loud round of cheers and “ohs” followed.

“Sometimes I wonder how old you all are,” Hart grumbled. “I didn’t mean that kind of comfort.”

“She sure was comfortable putting her hands on you,” Fox added.

“He’s so big and cuddly,” Dinah said, trying to reach over and squeeze his shoulder.

“Okay, enough. Just get us home safely, Dinah,” Hart ordered. He knew his team was giving him shit, they often did, but he didn’t want to joke about what had happened last night.

The woman had recently lost her husband and child. He’d provided her with nothing more than a friendly ear and a shoulder to weep on. The trial was over and she’d needed a long, cathartic cry. It hadn’t been until Maryanne had wept herself to sleep on his chest that he’d finally pulled the covers over her and slipped out of there at four in the morning. He’d ignored the disapproving glances he’d gotten from the two agents posted outside her door as he made his way back to his team’s area of the safe house.

Dinah pulled the truck into the station’s underground garage a little after ten a.m. They were all exhausted from having been up most of the night, then traveling for the last five hours. But, there was no rest for the weary. They had to get all their gear catalogued and stored in their armory. Get showered and be back in uniform and at their desks, ready to report. Then the commander would make his way over and demand an immediate debriefing. All this was to be done before he’d even be allowed to eat breakfast. It was the life of a SWAT officer.

His team came through the precinct doors, still in full gear with their special operations assault rifles laid across their chests. The bullpen came alive with shouts as fists pounded on desks, and chairs squeaked as the precinct stood to welcome them back. Hart nodded at a lot of the officers as they made their way to the elevators, even accepted hugs from a few of the female staff.

“Glad you guys are back, Hart!” Captain Myers called from his office. “Damn good job out there.”

More cheers rose from the officers. It was a great day for Atlanta and it was huge recognition for the department that they’d gotten another gang off the streets. Hart nodded in the captain’s direction then turned and looked toward his friend God’s narcotics department.