Blake (Blue Halo Book 3)

“She’s given us the locations of two other homes her husband owns,” said Steve, their FBI liaison, as he shuffled papers. He was on the smart projector screen while they all sat at the Blue Halo conference room table. “As well as the names and locations of two of his brothers, both of whom he’s close to.”

Blake nodded. Aidan, Flynn, Callum, and Tyler also acknowledged Steve’s words.

“And we definitely trust her?” Aidan asked. It was the same question that had been festering in Blake’s own head, and no doubt everyone else’s.

Steve didn’t hesitate. “I trust her. The woman has looked terrified since she arrived. It’s a reaction I don’t think she could fake. I’ll send you a recording of her talking to an FBI agent so you can see for yourself. Her medical report showed a lot of past injuries, as well as present. From everything we’ve learned, the marriage was forced upon her and wasn’t a happy one.”

Blake’s fists clenched. Even more reason to hate that scumbag Ahmad.

“I think she also has strong fear for her daughter,” Steve continued. “That she may be sold off to someone. Exposed to the same abuse she’s endured.”

Another shard of hate trickled through Blake.

“Did her husband ever talk to her about his plans?” Callum asked.

Frustration washed over Steve’s face. “No. She says her husband didn’t let her in on ‘the business side’ of his life.”

If the asshole forced the marriage and was beating her, that wasn’t a surprise. He clearly didn’t see her as an equal.

“How would you like us to proceed?” Blake asked.

“I’m going to send some of my guys to watch the locations she’s given us. If we catch a sighting of him in any of those places, I’ll send in your team.”

“Done.” Flynn reached for the connected laptop. “Keep us informed.”

“Will do.”

When the call ended, they all leaned back, taking a breath. Failing a mission was never easy. Especially when that failure meant dangerous men had the freedom to plan attacks on American citizens.

“He was found once, he’ll be found again,” Tyler said with a nod.

“I’m counting on it.” Blake tapped the desk before standing. “All right, well, if we’re done here, I’ve got to call Bert, get this car stuff sorted for Willow.” He was about to step out when he stopped and turned. “Almost forgot, you’re all required at my house this Saturday, ten a.m.”

Flynn raised a brow. “What’s at ten?”

“My daughter’s fifth birthday party. The theme is Frozen. Feel free to dress up as a snowman.”

Callum frowned. “Frozen?”

He almost rolled his eyes. “Yeah, the movie.” He’d watched the thing so many times, it was almost unimaginable that someone hadn’t.

Flynn looked at Tyler. “You’re younger, you should be up with the kid stuff.”

Tyler tossed a pen at him. “I’m only two years younger than you, asshole. And I don’t make a habit of watching animated shit.”

Callum, the biggest man on the team, lifted his large shoulder. “Maybe you should. You could use some wholesome entertainment in your life.”

Aidan smirked. “And maybe you should dress up. A six-and-a-half-foot snowman would make Mila’s day.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Callum smirked. “Maybe I will.”

Blake grinned. “Don’t be late.”

Leaving the conference room, he walked down the hallway and into his office. They’d only opened the security business a few months ago, but already it was feeling like home. As well as their off-the-books jobs for the FBI, they offered whatever their clients required, whether that was private or corporate protection agents, consultation on personal security, or self-defense education.

He sat behind his desk. Today, he was the unlucky bastard dealing with their admin duties. Their last receptionist hadn’t ended so well, so none of them were in a rush to hire a new one.

He was just lifting his cell when the very man he was about to call popped up on his phone.

“Got some good news for me, Bert?”

The mechanic grunted. Blake tensed his jaw to hold in his laugh. The older guy didn’t mince his words. Rough around the edges didn’t even begin to the describe him. Blake liked that. You got what you saw.

“Depends on what you call good news. Her car belongs in a junkyard. It’s a hunk of shit.”

Yeah, Blake knew that, and he was kicking himself for not replacing it earlier.

“I have a list a mile long of things that need replacing and fixing. I haven’t started on it yet because it’ll probably cost more to repair everything than the thing’s worth.”

Blake ran a hand over his face. “I suspected as much.”

“That other car I told you about, the one I have for sale, is ready to go if you want it.”

He should probably talk to Willow about it first. But the newer car was expensive, and he knew her funds were low. She’d opt to either wait for a cheaper car or just fix the one she had. And there was no way he wanted her driving it again. Bert was right, it was a hunk of shit. Even if he fixed everything, there was still a chance something else could break. And what if he was away and couldn’t help next time? What if Mila was with her?

Blake sighed. “I’ll buy the new car from you, Bert.”

Willow smiled as she watched Omar read the sentence out loud. She’d been tutoring the kid for over a year now, and the progress he’d made was out of this world. He lived in Egypt and spoke Arabic, but his family wanted him to be fluent in English. He was well on his way, by far the quickest learner she’d had, and so advanced for his ten years.

He looked at her through the screen, the smile on his face wide. “How was that?” He said each word slowly and carefully.

She leaned forward. “Omar, you’re doing an amazing job!”

She closed her tutoring book, their hour-long session now at an end.

The ten-year-old beamed back at her, dipping his head. “I have been practicing. And I have also been, ah, watching American TV.”

Excellent. That had been one of her recommendations. Not just American TV, but any English-speaking shows. “And what have you been watching?”

“Hm…” His little brow furrowed. He did that a lot when he was trying to think of a word. Lord, he was a cutie. “Riada…” He shook his head. “Sport.”

She nodded. He was good at correcting himself when he slipped up. Another thing to commend him for. The kid was motivated and enthusiastic. “And what sport have you been watching?”

“Everything. Kara al-sala. In English, you say basketball. And kara al-qudam. Football. I have also been watching some movies.”

She wasn’t a big sports fan. Movies, on the other hand…heck, there was once a time when she’d loved a good romance flick with popcorn.

These days, it was Frozen or CoComelon.

“My daughter loves her movies and TV shows too.” She smiled. “Well, I would ask what my new word is this week, but you just gave me three, riada…sport. Kara al-sala,” she said slowly, “basketball. And kara al-qudam. Football.”

Those last two were tongue twisters, that was for sure, and she’d need to practice if she wanted to remember them.

She always ended her sessions by asking her students for a word they could teach her in their language. It allowed the student to feel like the teacher for a moment. Plus, she got to learn a heap of new words.

“Thank you, Miss Cross.”

“Keep up the good work, Omar. I’ll see you next week.”

Clicking out of the screen, she leaned back in her seat, stretching.

Sweet Jesus, her neck was tight.

The only downside to her job was having to spend so many hours sitting in front of the computer screen. She tried to take a break between sessions, get outside as often as she could and move, but some days it was impossible.

Standing, she headed to the kitchen, swearing she could hear each and every bone in her body creak and groan. Lifting the kettle, she was filling it with water as her phone buzzed with a message. When she looked at it, she froze.

Janet.

She’d assumed she wouldn’t be hearing from her again—or anyone else in her study group. Not with them thinking the father of her child was something other than human.

She was almost tempted to ignore it, but reluctantly clicked into the message.

Janet: Hey! Are you coming to our study session tomorrow night?

She frowned. For a moment, words were completely lost on her. Was the woman joking? Of course, she wasn’t going. Did they think she’d just forget what they’d said? How they’d acted?

Willow: No, I’m not, Janet.

If she was a confrontational person, she would have written more. A lot more. But she wasn’t, so she left it at that.

She was just grabbing a tea bag when her phone buzzed again.

Janet: Okay, I should have prefaced my last message with this—I’m sorry. We all are. We were just shocked. Please come so we can apologize in person.

Willow paused. If it was herself they’d said hurtful things about, then forgiveness would probably be easier. But it wasn’t. It had been about Blake. And it had been so unfair and uncalled for. He hadn’t asked to be kidnapped. None of the men had. And to speak about him like he should now be an outcast in society, like people should actively fear and avoid him, was just wrong on so many levels.

Willow: I appreciate the apology, but I think it’s best I don’t come to any more study sessions.

The second the message was sent, it felt…right. Would she miss having people around to bounce ideas off of and motivate her? Yes. Was she disappointed that she’d started to consider the three of them friends and had already lost them? Definitely. But she didn’t want to be friends with such narrow-minded people. She couldn’t. Even though Blake and her weren’t together, he still was, and always would be, the father of her child. He was family. Heck, they were still married.

The day after they’d found out they were pregnant, Blake had given her a ring. And a week after that, they’d eloped, just the two of them. It had been…perfect.

The word whispered in her head. So much of their relationship had been perfect before becoming parents. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t divorced him. She couldn’t be with him right now…maybe not ever…yet the idea of breaking those vows still tore at her chest.

When the phone didn’t buzz again, she grabbed a mug from the cupboard, dropping her tea bag in before filling it with boiling water. She was just about to step into the front yard to get some fresh air when the phone rang, Janet’s name on the screen.

Oh jeez.

For a second time, she considered ignoring the woman, letting the call go to voicemail. Maybe listening to it sometime in the future. Or maybe just deleting it.

Then she gave herself a quick shake. No. Best to deal with it now and get it done.

She waited until she’d stepped outside, under the sun, before answering. “Hi, Janet.”

“I’m sorry. Really sorry. We just…we didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to say.”

Yeah, well…what she’d gone with certainly hadn’t been a winner. “He’s the father of my child, Janet. And he’s a good man. Life has thrown a lot his way. He didn’t ask for any of it.”

“I know.” She took a quick breath. “But I’m a small-town girl, you know? Everything tends to stay the same around here. So when we heard what happened to those guys, and that they were living so close to us, we got scared.”

Willow’s fingers tightened on the phone. They thought he was dangerous despite not even knowing him? Blake had never, and would never, hurt an innocent. He was a protector. Always had been, always would be.

“Scared because we don’t know them,” she hurried to add. “Scared of the unknown. But we’re getting to know you, and we’d like to continue to get to know you, and if you say he’s a good man, we’ll believe you.”

“They all are,” she said quietly. “Good men.”

“Well, it’s fortunate we met you then. Please come. Study with us. Tell us about him.”

She shook her head, walking around her small yard, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face. It probably wasn’t Janet’s fault that she was afraid. The media had reported the facts, emphasizing the physiological changes in the men. What should have been emphasized was that they were heroes. Men who’d dedicated their lives to protecting others. Men who still dedicated their lives to protecting others, even after what happened to them.

“Please?”

Willow sighed. Maybe it would be a good idea to spend time with them. Affirm that they had nothing to fear. “Okay.”

The sigh was loud across the line. “So you’ll come tomorrow night?”

She looked at her empty driveway. “I still can’t tomorrow, sorry. My car broke down last night. But even if it hadn’t, I’ll have Mila tomorrow night.”

She’d been planning on asking Blake to take her while she went to the session, but truth be told, she wanted Mila with her. She missed the kid enough on her days with Blake.

“Okay, what if we came to yours?” Janet asked. “What time does she go to bed? We could do an hour or two while she sleeps. We’re quiet.”

Willow nibbled her bottom lip. Having them around would make writing her essay quicker and easier. The three of them were smart, and whenever she got stuck, they always had the answer or the reference or whatever it was she needed. And some company while she studied at night wasn’t terrible.

“I can bring snacks,” Janet added.

Willow chuckled. Janet always brought snacks. She was the snack queen. She brought everything from Red Vines to carrot sticks. “Okay. I’ll send everyone my address and we can cram in a couple hours.”

“Oh, great! It will be so fun. I can’t wait.”

Willow was just saying goodbye when a truck stopped on the road in front of her house, closely followed by a red Ford sedan, which pulled into her driveway.

Her mouth dropped open. She watched Bert climb out of the Ford. The old man walked up to her, holding out the keys.

“Ah, hi, Bert. What’s this?”

“It’s your car, love.” When she didn’t reach for the keys, he pushed his hand out insistently until she took them.

“No, it isn’t. My car is a little beat-up Subaru called Gigi.” She didn’t know why she added that part. Maybe because she was in a shocked state of confusion. “This thing is new and shiny.”

And probably out of her price range. Way, way out of it.

“The Subaru is being sold for parts. The parts that I can salvage, that is.” He muttered the last words under his breath.

Turning, he walked down to the truck, and Willow hurried to follow. “No, Bert, I can’t pay for this. I need my car.”

He was already climbing into the passenger side. “Blake paid for it.”

Then the door closed and they were driving away.

Willow stood like a statue, holding her tea in one hand and phone and keys in the other, mouth hanging wide open.

Blake bought her a car?