The two FBI techs at the boxing ring rushed forward. One carried a small object in his hand, the other a tablet.

  Mark motioned to the device. “This camera has audio.”

  The tech cut a button off Chance’s suit coat. He replaced it with the camera hidden inside a button.

  “It’s got enough battery to record you dropping off Brick at the hospital and talking to Nolan,” Mark continued, “but don’t expect it to last all night. We’ll be watching in the van, so we’ll know when we should move in.”

  I swallowed at reality smashing my euphoria to bits. This was it—the last hurdle. By sundown tonight, I’d be deliriously happy, or my heart would be broken beyond repair.

  Mark pulled a folded white paper out of his inner coat pocket and thrust it toward Chance. “While I can’t comment on an active investigations, this is a high-level list of suspected crimes we believe Nolan’s had a hand in. Either he ordered these deaths or he killed the victims himself. If you can get him to admit to even one, we’ll be beyond golden.”

  Chance opened the document. A bullet-pointed list filled the entire page with the cause of death listed after each name.

  My stomach lurched, and my hold on Chance’s shoulder tightened. How could I let him go through with this, go back into that monster’s home and face him alone?

  “I’ll be fine,” Chance murmured, obviously sensing my spiraling panic.

  “Get in, get the confession, get out.” Mark pointed at Chance. “If you don’t think you can make him say anything, don’t push. Your safety comes first.”

  “Yes.” I pinched Chance’s bicep. “Please. Don’t be a hero.”

  “But I am.” He grinned and winked.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Seriously,” he murmured, rubbing my thigh. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Chance.” I lightly ground my forehead against his. “Don’t take any risks. I’ve got big plans for us. You hear me? The house, the tire swing, and don’t forget…” I ran my fingers up his thigh, barely grazing his cock. “This.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Chance grinned so wide, he showed most of his teeth. “I’ve got a few ideas of my own, but we’ll talk about them when I get back.”

  I forced myself to slide off his lap. It took everything I had to stand back and watch Chance drive away in Nolan’s SUV with Brick.

  19

  CHANCE

  Itromped into Nolan’s office with my shoulders slumped, feigning dejection and disgust. I’d never been much of an actor, but I had plenty of motivation to get into the role of beaten, loser thug.

  “Chance,” Nolan beamed, dropping a legal-sized file onto his desk. “How did it go?”

  Shuffling to the desk, I held up a set of papers. “It could’ve gone a lot better. Travis knocked Brick out.” I rattled the wrinkled documents. “I dropped him off at the ER. These are the intake papers. He’s probably got a concussion or something.”

  Nolan’s eyes narrowed onto my hands. “Is that the only thing you brought back?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I hope you have a good insurance plan⁠—”

  “Where is my money?” Nolan stood and tossed his fancy pen down, all traces of his earlier smile now gone.

  I shuffled my feet, adding a gulp to sell it. “I, uh, didn’t get the money.”

  “I see.” Nolan stared at the surface of the desk for a full minute. Rounding the massive furniture, he sauntered closer to me. “You take out two of my men with no problem, but you can’t handle one guy, even with backup?”

  “I didn’t think you’d want Brick dying⁠—”

  “I don’t give a damn about Brick,” Nolan thundered, his skin flushing red. “He can be replaced.” The loan shark inhaled and seemed to count in his head or some other Zen exercise. “Maybe I haven’t properly motivated you.”

  Papers crinkled in my tightening fists. “I don’t need motivation.”

  “Excellent.” Nolan pointed to the door. “I’ll give you one more shot to collect what Travis owes. Ms. Loomis may have slipped my men earlier, but it won’t be hard to draw her out by capturing her roommate.” His gaze bore into me. “Since you’re not understanding, maybe you’ll grasp this. Once I have them, I’ll sell the roommate to the highest bidder, and give Ms. Loomis back to you one piece at a time. Is that clear?”

  I swallowed again. This time, I didn’t need to call on any acting skills. Nolan wouldn’t know that my trembling wasn’t fear, but rage. “It’s clear,” I said once I’d forced my teeth to unclench, “but you don’t really have connections in human trafficking, right? You wouldn’t really kill Mandy either, would you? I mean, I get that you want to make sure I have an incentive, but that seems extreme. You’re a businessman, not some killer.”

  “Chance,” Nolan chided, shaking his head. “You’re not that naïve. Being a businessman means I have friends in all kinds of low places.” His green eyes sharpened. “I kill people who step out of line. I order their loved ones’ deaths by way of motivation.”

  “Like that story I heard in the news?” I asked. “What was his name…? He had a mob moniker.” I pretended to grapple with my memory. “Pinhead…no, Pencil. No, wait—that’s not right either.”

  “Pauly Pincher,” Nolan supplied, referring to the man who enjoyed dismembering his victims with long-nosed pliers. He was listed as a suspected associate of Nolan’s. “Yeah. I’ve worked with him. He’s my cousin’s man. Does some work for me if my guys are tied up. He’s a bit messy for my tastes. I prefer a cleaner death.”

  “I agree.” I forced my muscles to relax and leaned forward in a confidential pose. “A gun’s too impersonal and a knife can have you soaked in seconds if you do it wrong. But a garrote.” I smiled wide as if picturing the device. “That’ll challenge your will to kill your target against the victim’s will to live.”

  Nolan’s face lit up. “Exactly. I feel the same way!”

  Bastard. One of the victims on Agent Butler’s list had been killed that way. I worked hard not to show the disgust on my face.

  “I had this one woman,” the loan shark continued, without me having to prompt him. “Sheila Myers.” His expression turned dreamy, making me sick. “She was a fighter.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I had to punch her twice to get her to stop flopping around so I could finish the job.”

  And with that, I had the golden ticket. I had everything I needed and a cherry on top. This asshole was going away for life.

  “I’ll head back to Travis’s tonight.” I edged toward the door, unable to stomach another second with this miserable excuse for a man. “I bet he won’t be expecting a second visit so soon. I’ll get your money.”

  “You’d better.” Nolan lost his smile. “Ms. Loomis’s life depends on you.”

  A loud crash echoed beyond the sheer-curtained windows.

  Nolan snatched the black phone on the desk up and punched a button. After a few seconds, he slammed it back down. “How hard is it to answer the phone?”

  “I wouldn’t think it’d be too hard.” I took another step.

  Knock. Knock. Knock. I opened the door before Nolan could say a word. Three FBI agents in full body armor poured into the room, aiming AR-15s at the loan shark.

  “Nolan Nickel,” Agent Butler shouted, “you’re under arrest.”

  I was turning to leave when I heard a creak. Whirling, I yanked the knife out of the sheath strapped to my forearm. I flung it almost reflexively, nailing the thug sneaking in through a hidden passage in the side wall. The knife buried itself in the joint of his shoulder, and the rifle he’d been toting dropped to the floor.

  One of the FBI agents broke away and ran to the newly revealed door. “Come out,” he yelled. “Hands on your heads.”

  Two men complied and lay on the hardwood floors on their stomachs. I studied the rest of the room, but nothing else moved.

  Another unit of FBI agents swarmed into the office with their weapons up, searching for threats.

  Seeing they had everything covered, I strolled through the mansion’s first floor and out the front door. More agents were milling around outside, but I didn’t care about them. All I needed was Mandy, the love of my life. Was she here? I couldn’t see her.

  “Hey, Chance,” Mark Butler called out, walking Nolan outside by his cuffed wrists. “You looking for a job?”

  A small group of agents moved, revealing Mandy striding up the walkway. I exhaled, my relief at seeing her healthy and whole hitting me hard.

  “I’ve already got one,” I answered, locking eyes with my future. “I don’t have plans to leave it. Ever.”

  EPILOGUE: MANDY

  I swirled my finger over the tattoo on Chance’s chest. Adjusting my head against his shoulder, I purred, “I don’t think I can walk.”

  A low rumble vibrated in my ear, and I grinned at his sexy laugh. “I’m not sure I can either. You’re insatiable, woman.”

  “I had to burn off that adrenaline somehow,” I sniffed. “I can’t stop picturing you all beastly sexy, beating up those thugs in your slick black suit⁠—”

  “Beastly sexy?”

  I lifted my chin and winked. “You look like a caveman with all that scruff on your chin. And you act like one too, in a fight. And in bed. What would you call it?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’d use almost any description but that.” He lazily stroked my spine.

  “Chance?”

  “Um-hmm?”

  “Are you…your brothers are off having an adventure…” I stumbled to get my question out, terrified of the answer. “Are you planning on joining them?”

  “No.” He shrugged, my head rising and falling with the movement. “I’ve had all the adventure I can handle for a lifetime.”

  “So, you mentioned trying to figure out where you want to settle down. Have you come to a decision?”

  His breathing paused, and my mouth instantly went dry.

  Chance slipped out from under me and sat up. Without a word, he pulled a pair of shorts on and left his bedroom.

  Oh no. This was it. He loved me, but he couldn’t stay. It was happening all over again.

  Tears filled my eyes and I fell back against the pillow. Agony like I’d never known suffocated me.

  “Mandy,” Chance called. “Come out here, please.”

  No, I silently answered. Unable to move.

  “Mandy,” he said again, his voice a bit sterner. “Please.”

  I kicked the sheet off my feet and blindly reached for my shirt and shorts. Tears blurred my sight to the point where I wasn’t sure if I had my shirt on backwards, but I managed to put it on. Stumbling from his room, I used my hand to guide me down the hall to the living room.

  “Sweetheart,” he begged softly. “You’re killing me. Wipe your eyes and look at me.”

  I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. Blinking, I gazed ahead and froze.

  “I didn’t want to do this in bed.” Chance smiled up at me from bended knee. Bruises bloomed over his face, chest, and knuckles, but I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

  He held a black velvet box up, then opened it. “Amanda Loomis, from the first day I met you, you stole my heart. We’ve traveled a hard road to get here, but I cannot picture a future without you in it. You once told me that you dreamed of owning the garage and marrying me. I hope to God you still want that.” He lifted the box higher. “Will you be my wife?”

  Tears fell from my eyes, and I clapped a hand over my mouth.

  His expression slipped. “I’m not making assumptions about the future. I swear. I’m asking you what you want, but I’m really hoping you want to be with me.” His words rushed together. “I can’t answer your question about where I want to settle down yet. We can buy out my brothers and live here, or live at your house, I don’t care. I only know I want to help you run the garage and live in Springwell, and maybe open a gym like Travis’s, but without that stink⁠—”

  I rushed forward and tackled him.

  He laughed nervously from flat on his back. “Does this mean yes?”

  “Yes, you silly man.” I kissed him hard. “I’ve been waiting for twelve years.”

  He chuckled and pulled the solitaire, round-cut diamond on a silver band out of the box. “Would you hate me if I told you I’ve had this ring for twelve years?”

  “What?” I pulled back, balancing with a hand on his meaty chest.

  “Saved every penny I earned in the garage for a year and bought it in Columbus so you wouldn’t find out.” He chuffed as if remembering. “The day you broke up with me, I had it in my pocket.” He lifted my left hand. “I was about to ask you to marry me when you told me never to contact you again.”

  “Oh, Chance!” Horror filled me.

  “I didn’t want to enter the Navy without you, and the only way we could stay together was if we were married.” He sat up, taking me with him. Nestling me on his lap and in his arms, he kissed me gently. “Since I’ve always imagined being your husband, I couldn’t wait to drop to one knee.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything.” He slid the ring on my finger and somehow it still fit. “I meant what I said earlier, I would have made you miserable if I’d stayed, and you would have hated leaving your dad and the garage if I’d convinced you to leave. I’m proud of who we are now and I’m impossibly more in love with you than before.” He squeezed my fingers. “I know what home means now, and you’re it for me. No matter where we live, I’ll be home.”

  My heart sang—home, that was it. A place to feel safe. A place to live and grow. Chance was all that and more, and we’d found our way back to each other at last.

  END OF PROTECTING MANDY

  SPRINGWELL SERIES BOOK ONE

  BLURB

  I’m not too proud to admit, I’ve fantasized about Rachel Winchester for years.

  But even in my wildest dreams, I never imagined that after a rough night of drowning my sorrows, the tattooed beauty would approach me at the bar, offering comfort.

  Solace I’m only too happy to accept. I mean, the woman is an absolute knockout.

  It can’t go any further, though. Having Rachel in my life is not part of the plan.

  I’m a Marine Raider on leave, ready to head back into the fray. And Rachel doesn’t need me, anyway. She runs a successful bed and breakfast, that according to local legend, contains a hidden pirate’s treasure.

  Rachel scoffs at the story. But not everyone thinks it’s a tall tale.

  Like Rachel’s estranged mother who shows up with a treasure hunter in tow wanting to turn the grounds upside down searching for the lost booty.

  And they’re not the only ones. It’s becoming clear that someone wants Rachel dead. Something I can’t allow to happen.

  Especially when I find out she’s carrying my child.

  1

  HARRIS

  Islapped my empty long-neck bottle onto the scarred wooden bar. The bartender didn’t notice, run off her feet. Between off-duty Marines, local civilians needing to forget their days, and the loud music shaking the walls, I’d be waiting until hell froze over before I caught her attention.

  The noise came in bursts, harsh in my ears. A game of darts bubbled over into laughter and shouts. A tray fell—more laughter, and muffled groans. In the dive bar’s main dining area, a young woman called for a toast. Her friends broke out giggling as she raised her glass, then they all clinked and downed their shots. Some shuddered, unused to the cheap whisky burn. The rest smacked their lips and called for more shots. Four guys in a booth, in worn fatigues, watched the party with interest, gauging their moment to swoop in on the fun.

  I snorted. I knew this game too well. The Marines would have no problem horning in on that particular party. These women were classic tag-chasers—women who went after military men in hopes of leading them by their dog tags straight to the altar. Why else would they choose to hold their party in this crappy dive bar, if not to tempt the Marines who traveled across the bridge from Parris Island?

  Marines such as me. I stifled a groan. God, I was twenty-nine, but I felt about fifty. I slumped down on my stool and slid my empty bottle next to its equally empty buddy. Should I have another? Hell, yeah, I should. How else was I going to get mind-numbingly drunk?

  I waved at the bartender, but couldn’t catch her eye. Shocker. Searching for the waitress who had served me my previous two beers, I spotted her tied up with a party taking up three of the five tables in the bar area. Shit.

  My heart ached dully, a deep, distant pain, buried in layers of numbness about a mile deep. That numbness had served me well out in the shit, let me shut down my feelings and get the job done. Back in the real world, it felt strange and wrong, a thick layer of bubble wrap between me and my life. Between me and Dad’s funeral, and Shawn’s before that.

  I hissed through my teeth. I’d come here to forget, not to dwell on the past. To close my eyes and see darkness, not that godawful flash—Shawn’s stupid smirk before he’d turned, and then boom. A cartoon explosion, red flames, white light. A damn IED, and my teammate was gone. My best friend blown to pieces in some Colombian hellhole. Hearing about Dad’s death on top of that had felt like a joke, a bad joke, a sick one, too cruel to be true. I’d got the news the same day I’d landed stateside. Taken the call right there on the tarmac, watching as Shawn’s casket was wheeled off the plane.

  I stared at the bar top, but no tears came. No lump rose to choke off the curse in my throat. Shawn was gone, Dad was gone, and that was just…that. I’d come closest to losing it when I’d realized I’d have to choose—Dad’s funeral or Shawn’s? But in the end, it’d been no choice at all. My brothers would need me, and family came first. I’d put in for bereavement leave, got a thirty-day pass, and made arrangements to head home to Springwell, Georgia. Tomorrow, we’d all be home, me, Chance, and Lee. Back in the house where we all grew up.