Kill Shot (Code 11- KPD SWAT Book 6) Page 2

  I laughed. “Yeah, I’ll take you up on that offer…later.”

  Then I skirted around the dog pile, squatted down until my knees were straddling a face of some man with a black hat, and started pushing bodies to the side until I got to the woman’s body.

  Lucky for me, the first thing I came to was the thigh, which worked well enough for me.

  “Bottoms up,” I declared, then stabbed the needle home.

  Then she started to buck, making the men under me buck as well.

  With quick thinking and ingrained muscle memory, I flicked the safety cap onto the needle and tossed it into the corner of the room just in time.

  The head that was very nearly between my legs became officially acquainted with my lady parts, and I went flying on top of the pile.

  I laughed the whole way as I landed, rolling until I was on my ass near the doorway.

  Paxton was laughing when he helped me to my feet.

  “Jesus, you find the weirdest things entertaining,” Paxton rolled his eyes.

  I winked at him and watched the last struggles flitter out of the woman as the Narcan I’d just injected her with started to work.

  Then all her struggling just…quit.

  She was so still, in fact, that the men on top of her didn’t trust it.

  I did, however.

  “You can get up now,” I yelled loudly. “She’s done.”

  “How do you know?” One of them asked cautiously.

  “Because I shot her up with some Narcan. She’s sober as a motherfu…uh, nun,” I amended.

  Cautiously, they stood, one by one, until they were all looking down at the woman on the floor.

  “Why is it always the ones that are the strongest that fight the most? Jesus, every fuckin’ time!” What looked to be the oldest of the group growled, tugging his shirt down and tucking it back into his pants.

  “Because they’re inconsiderate assholes, boss. Always out to get you,” a red head quipped as he, too, fixed his shirt.

  Bennett, though, was the one to hold my eyes as he stood, looking at me like I was a crazy loon.

  “You do realize that you’re about a buck ten and a fourth of this woman’s size, right?” Bennett clarified, gesturing to the prone woman with a finger.

  I looked behind me, checking to see if he might be speaking to the person at my back, yet I saw nobody there.

  “Are you yelling at me?” I asked innocently.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, Mizz Jane, I sure am. That was incredibly idiotic.”

  I blinked, surprised that he’d actually said yes.

  The nerve!

  I was a grown ass woman! If I wanted to wade in with the men, I sure as hell could! I could do anything a man could do…within reason.

  “Yeah, whatever,” I said, twirling on my feet out of the room. “She’s all yours, Paxton. Mr. Alvarez, let’s get you sewn up so we can get you home.”

  I didn’t wait for him to follow me, instead going to the nursing station and charting the shot I’d just given the dumb woman that was probably going to be extremely sore in the morning.

  “I think you made the big man worried,” Melissa laughed lightly as she passed me.

  “Yeah, I get that. I’m not his responsibility, though. That’s my job,” I sighed.

  Been there, done that. I was over having a controlling boyfriend.

  And one Bennett Alvarez resembled my ex in the worrying department.

  No thank you.

  I didn’t care how hot he was!

  Chapter 2

  Sometimes success is just getting the clothes from the washer to the dryer without having to rewash them.

  -Fact of life

  Bennett

  “If you throw food one more time, Reagan Rose Alvarez, I will beat your ass. And I’ll do it in front of the entire freakin’ restaurant,” I growled softly to my daughter.

  The food that was in her hand and ready to launch, did.

  But at the snap in my voice, she jerked around to look at me, causing the food not to go at her cousin, but over her cousin’s right shoulder and straight to the booth beyond.

  I froze as an angry, “What the fuck!” sounded over my shoulder, and I closed my eyes in dismay.

  What the fuck, was right.

  I stood up, brought my body around, and looked over my shoulder, all the while apologizing profusely.

  “I’m so, so, so sorry,” I apologized profusely, standing so I could get a better look at the people that were now most likely not very happy to be wearing my daughter’s leftovers.

  Except when I turned around and got my first good look at the man that was behind me, I blinked in surprise.

  Because it wasn’t a man. It was a woman.

  Two women, to be exact. And one of them was not very happy with me.

  “You,” Lennox hissed, pointing down to her pants that now had a huge stain on them from the ketchup covered French fry that my daughter had thrown.

  It was in a very precarious spot, as well, looking to be as if she’d had a rather unfortunate accident.

  I opened my mouth to apologize once again when the next thing that came out of her mouth had me snapping it right shut again.

  “You did this, you awful, awful man!” She declared loudly.

  The other girl that was in the booth with her, a beautiful brunette that looked somewhat familiar said, “Here!”

  Then proceeded to slap a wet napkin on Lennox’s pants and rub at her crotch furiously.

  But after an embarrassing minute of everyone watching the girl go to town on her pants with relish, she leaned back in dismay. “Well, that won’t come out. You’re going to have to dry clean them and pray.”

  Lennox, flustered beyond belief, started to fume.

  I could see why she was upset.

  Now instead of a small red stain, she had a large red stain. One that took up both legs and looked even more authentic, if you catch my drift.

  “I’m sorry,” my daughter’s apologetic cry underneath my arm had us both looking down at her, teary eyed and full of shit.

  Reagan was a fucking pro, and she’d learned every single bit of it from her cousin and my sister.

  The masters.

  Lennox’s eyes dimmed in their anger as she looked down at my demon spawn.

  “You’re sorry for what, sweetheart?” She asked, leaning down until she was face to face with Reagan.

  “I threw the fry at you and I’m very sorry that I did it. Those were beautiful pants, and I’ll use my Tooth Fairy money to buy you new ones,” she whispered.

  Oh, she was laying it on thick.

  She didn’t have any tooth fairy money. Nor did she have any intention of paying for anything.

  In fact, she’d done way worse and hadn’t given a shit before, so I was wondering what she was playing at.

  Then Harleigh, the spawn of Satan, poked her little nose into the mix.

  Harleigh was Max and Payton’s eldest child, and you’d never know that she was born nearly four months premature.

  She was just as big as Reagan was, and had an attitude as wide as the day was long.

  I didn’t know how Max could put up with all that was Harleigh. Then to add his wife, my so called sister, into the mix…well, let’s just say that it wasn’t fair to the man and leave it at that.

  “You have beautiful hair, ma’am!” Harleigh said in her syrupy sweet, southern accent.

  Lennox fucking melted under the little hands of two eight year olds.

  My God, but she didn’t even look mad anymore!

  Clearly I was using their powers of persuasion for all the wrong things!

  “I’m here, now let’s get this party started!” A loud, very obviously gay man, announced loudly.

  He had a gift bag in one hand, and a cake box in the other, eyes on the scene in front of him.

  When Lennox turned around to confront the newcomer, his eyes swept the
length of her, and stalled on her crotch.

  “Wow,” the man said. “What’s going on with your vagina?”

  Lennox growled at him in warning, causing me to nearly laugh.

  Yet, I somehow held it in, which was a good thing seeing as she turned around in a whirlwind of brown hair and anger.

  “Let me have your shirt!” She ordered, gesturing to my chest.

  I looked down at my KPD polo, and then shook my head. “No way. I’m not wearing anything underneath this.”

  She hissed, then her eyes lit on my KPD windbreaker that was lying on the seat of the booth, and she snatched it greedily before wrapping it around her shoulders.

  It swallowed her.

  In fact, it looked like a nightgown. Yet, I guess I could see why she’d need it. I wouldn’t want to walk around with that, either.

  Once she had the jacket zipped up, she looked back at me smugly.

  “I’ll get it back to you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”

  I shrugged.

  I had two more of them at home, so it was no skin off my nose.

  She could’ve at least asked, though.

  “Whatever,” I said, turning back around and taking my seat once again.

  The girls moved around as well, reclaiming their seat and looking quite contrite.

  “Daddy, I…” I held my hand up before Reagan could finish her sentence.

  “Not another word. Eat your food and we’ll be leaving. Not another word,” I snapped.

  Reagan scrunched her nose up but, nonetheless, started eating, and I was grateful.

  I loved her to death, but there were times when she was extremely trying.

  Reagan had been born when I was seventeen.

  She’d never had a mother figure other than her Aunt Payton and my mother, and had always gotten anything she’d ever wanted. She was a spoiled brat, and I had no one to blame but myself.

  As I finished my steak, wondering why the hell I’d said yes to watching Harleigh on my only night off this week, and then had made the second mistake of taking the two of them to their favorite restaurant, I studied my girl.

  She was the spitting image of her mother.

  Which was nauseating at times.

  Corrinne, Reagan’s mother, was the first love of my life.

  I’d thought we had something good until, one day, I’d gone to a party looking for her, and found her passed out with two guys that had been in the process of trying to take advantage of her and another girl.

  Yet, what I didn’t know, at the time, was that Corrinne had been part of the act, and had been fully aware the whole time.

  She was just one hell of an actress.

  When my sister had tried to take her to the hospital and get her to report what had happened to the police, her conscience had gotten the best of her, and she’d explained what had really happened.

  After I’d found out, I’d broken up with her, but there’d be one tiny detail that would bring us back together and force us to make nice when I wanted nothing to do with her.

  Reagan Rose.

  If Corrinne had had her way, Reagan wouldn’t even exist today.

  I’d convinced her to have Reagan, even though her parents had been telling her to have the abortion.

  Once Reagan had been born, Corrinne had changed her mind and had tried to keep her. I’d fought her for nearly four months, but before Reagan was even in the picture I’d signed up for the Navy. And I’d had to report to boot camp before the final judge’s decision had been announced.

  I’ll never know what divine forces had been at work at that time, but I thanked the Lord every day for my beautiful brown headed girl. For all the people that helped me bring her home.

  I loved the little girl to death, even when she was being a turd like she had been tonight.

  “How do you know that lady, Uncle Benny Bear?” Harleigh asked.

  I winced.

  Payton had taught all of her kids to call me that, and I had a feeling it would forever be my name, no matter how hard I tried.

  It was bad enough that all of the men at the station were calling me that, too.

  Yet, Payton didn’t seem to care how embarrassing it was.

  “I met her the other day when I got my stitches,” I explained patiently.

  Harleigh nodded.

  “Do those hurt? They’re going to scar,” Harleigh observed.

  “No, they don’t hurt. And yes, they’ll probably scar,” I answered as I tossed the last piece of steak into my mouth.

  Eight year old girls were incredibly curious, yet these two didn’t act like most eight year olds. They were little tom boys that acted more like a male child would, rather than a female child.

  I could see how mine was like that, seeing as it was just me and her. Harleigh had her mother and two sisters at home.

  “You know you make my momma cry when you get hurt,” Harleigh accused.

  I blinked. “I do?”

  She nodded sagely. “Yep. And daddy has to tell her to get a grip.”

  “Hmm,” I said dryly. “Your mommy needs a little help in that department. Maybe next time you can tell her to take a chill pill.”

  “Do you have a gun on?” Harleigh asked.

  Always so curious.

  “Yes, I do,” I answered honestly.

  I was a cop. And I was a SEAL before that. I didn’t go anywhere unarmed. Ever.

  “Where is it? Can I hold it? What kind is it?”

  Harleigh smiled, looking exactly like her mom, and I sighed.

  “Alright you two, if you’re done, let’s get going. I have to be at work right after y’all have to be at school in the morning, and I have a shit ton of stuff to do,” I said to the pair.

  “Mommy also says you have a potty mouth,” Harleigh said, grabbing her tea and scooting out of the booth.

  “That’s because he does have a potty mouth,” Lennox tossed over her shoulder.

  I hadn’t realized she’d sat directly behind us, and I wondered how much of our conversations she’d heard.

  “Let’s go girls,” I said, putting a hand on each of their heads and steering each of them out of the crowded restaurant and to the parking lot.

  All the while I felt the watchful eye of a woman who most likely hated my guts.

  Why, when I hadn’t done anything to her, I didn’t know. But, oh well. Wouldn’t be the first woman that disliked me and definitely wouldn’t be the last.

  By the time I got home, twenty minutes later, the two hellions in the backseat were knocked smooth out, and I was thinking that they used to be a lot easier to get inside and tucked into bed when they were smaller.

  Pulling in and shutting my truck off, I got out and motioned one of the men over that was outside tinkering on his bike over.

  “What’s up?” James asked as he walked over.

  I pointed to the two sleeping girls in the backseat.

  “Grab one, would you?” I asked quietly.

  James placed his beer on the side of my truck and scooped the girl closest to him up while I got the other.

  “You want them both in Reagan’s bed?” James asked me as I held the front door open for him and Reagan.

  “Yeah, that’s fine,” I said, following behind him.

  Neither one of us bothered to turn any lights on, both knowing our way just as we all did throughout everyone’s house.

  James was on the SWAT team with me, and he also lived in the same little compound as I did.

  I’d moved into my sister’s old place when I’d gotten out of the Navy, happy to have a safe place among friends and family.

  The compound was founded by Sam Mackenzie, and he had made a place where his entire unit could stay on the same piece of property.

  They used to all live in separate duplexes, but over the last few years, they’d all built their own houses interspersed across the property.

  I had taken over
the duplex that Payton and Max had occupied, although I hadn’t planned on making it permanent by any means. However, it worked for us.

  I was called out often to come in for SWAT related calls, or at times to cover a shift if needed. It was always nice to have family around at the drop of a hat that could watch Reagan for me while I was working.

  And I’d do the same for Payton, Max, or any of the men that lived there. Kind of like James.

  We were a tight knit family and I counted myself lucky to be there.

  “Hey, I tried calling you a few minutes ago. I need to go out tomorrow and pick up a new gun. Do you want to come?” James asked once he laid his charge down.

  James and I didn’t keep our conversation down.

  The two girls were heavy sleepers. They had to be with all the activity that paraded around them on a daily basis. All of the ‘Free Kids’, as I liked to call them, were close in age. And it wasn’t unheard of to have them all running in and out of your door at any moment in time.

  It was a distraction, yes, but I enjoyed it.

  “You tried to call me?” I asked, patting my pockets for my phone.

  Then I groaned, remembering exactly where my phone was. As well as my pager.

  “Mother fucker,” I growled. “Can you watch them while…”

  James’ pager went off and I growled in frustration. “Never mind. Looks like you can’t. And it’s a good thing I was with you.”

  ***

  Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

  “What is that?” Paxton asked, looking around the room for the foreign sound.

  I, on the other hand, was busy searching through the various pockets in the windbreaker I’d taken from cantankerous man who couldn’t control his kids.

  He did make some cute kids, too. His wife was a lucky woman.

  Because, fuck if Bennett wasn’t hotter than hell.

  He’d probably be a beast in the bedroom, too.

  But then he’d open his mouth and it’d lost all appeal when his caveman, me man you woman, act started to spew out.

  “Check inside,” Melissa said, gesturing to my coat.

  I did, and finally found the pocket that he’d hidden his things in.

  Cell phone, a set of keys and a pager.