Page 15 of Crossing Lines

“I know, I miss you, too. When we get back, I’ll take a few days off, and we can just hang out at the house. I’ll even let you choose the movies we watch.”

My grin grew. “Deal. Now, let me sleep. Be safe.”

“Always. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.” When the line went silent, I closed my eyes again.

I really hated him being out there somewhere. Without me. At least when I was on ops, even if I wasn’t actively involved, Ialways knew if he was safe. If something bad ever happened, I’d be there for him. I trusted him to keep himself safe, though.

I yawned and tugged the blankets up with me as I sat up. I needed to get up and do something. It was time to stop feeling sorry for myself. I’d had a fabulous breakfast earlier which, thanks to my little one, was lost not long after. If I was going to beat my brothers tonight at game night, I needed my strength. Which meant food.

I got up, managed to get a quick shower, without getting my hand and arms very wet, and without face planting in said shower. Though, there was a close call…or two. I pulled on my undies and a dress Anna had brought over. It had a built-in bra because, let’s face it, there was no way I could get one on, and I sure as hell wasn’t asking for help from anyone in this house. I wasn’t a big dress fan, but I could deal for now.

I left my room, padded down the hall, and peeked in on Carter. His nose was buried in a text book. Poor kid, it was hard being smart. I grinned as I moved down to the stairs, taking them slowly so I didn’t roll down them. The kitchen was empty when I entered it. I hadn’t seen Daddy upstairs; his bedroom door had been open and the room empty.

The fridge was calling my name. Spaghetti was good for lunch. There should have been some left from last night. Daddy always made sketti on Tuesday nights. And we had a winner. I did a little dance until I had to figure out how to move the big ass glass baking dish from the fridge with only one hand. With two hands, it was heavy. I didn’t want to bother Carter though. I sighed and shook my head. I’d just eat something else.

I dug around and found a bag of grapes and a block of cheese. I turned to shut the fridge door and stepped back with a yelp of surprise. “What are you doing, you brat?” I glared at the grinning jerk.

“I saw you looking in on me in the mirror, thought you might need help.” He chuckled and took the cheese from me, put it back in the fridge, and pulled out the spaghetti. Okay, so I forgave him. For now. “Go sit. Eat your grapes, and I’ll bring you a bowl.”

“Bossy little shit,” I muttered as I went to the table and sat. Carter got three bowls out and put one in the microwave before he went to the back door.

“Dad! Lunch!” his voice boomed out across the yard. I watched him as he moved around the kitchen. He’d grown into such a good young man. I smiled and nodded. I’d helped him grow to be a good person; I could do that with my baby too. I’d have it no other way.

Chapter 7

Tracey

Being stuckin an emergency room in Springfield, Missouri sucked. What sucked more—I’d have to tell Stel that I got hurt on this op.

I wasn’t the only one, but she would only be focused on the bandages I wore. This should have been an easy op. We had two bond jumpers, brothers who couldn’t be bothered to show up for court. This was their second bail jump in as many years. I’d agreed to tag along with Chip because I knew the boys with Davenport Bail Bonds, who had asked for help, well. He’d been offered a pretty penny to assist in this capture too. It was going to be a joint effort, so that should have said more to me than it did. It should have been an in-and-out.

I never expected it to go up in the air the way it had. We got lucky no one died, on either side. Talk about a grade-A FUBAR situation.

“All right, this is what we have. According to the mother, who has now removed herself from this situation, they’re probably inside the building. The images on this tablet are from a week ago, though we’ve had eyes on them since then. They’re going torun and fight. Be on the lookout for weapons, and whatever you do, don’t underestimate these boys. Going to jail for a harder crime won’t bother them. They’ve spent most of their lives in jail. Jail doesn’t scare them.”

We all nodded, looking over the images of the guys we were after.

I checked my gear again. My taser, which was my first weapon of choice in these situations, went on my right hip. I had my Walther PPQ 9mm pistol on my left. It shot rubber bullets, and if I needed, I had a cartridge of chalk balls. They both would hurt like a mother fucker but wouldn’t cause any lasting damage. I had my tactical knife on me, but that was only for a close encounter emergency. It wasn’t my only backup piece. Oh no, my 45 went into its hidden back holster. If these boys were as dangerous in person as they were on paper, I was going in prepared.

I had zip ties, extra cartridges for my taser, a spare clip for my 9mm, chalk bullets, and a clip of .45. A few cans of pepper spray were stashed in various pockets on my vest as well.

The words “Bail Enforcement” were printed on the front of my vest in bright white lettering. The back read “Daniels” and under that the words “Daniels-Jones Investigations & Bail Bonds.” Chip and I noticed earlier that the others wore similar vests, so at least they were taking this seriously. I pushed a small flashlight through the hoop on my vest and rolled my neck. I had a larger Maglite flashlight clipped to the back loop of my cargo pants. They had a double purpose. Not only would they give light, they made a helluva makeshift weapon. If you got hit with one of them, you’d feel it for days.

“We ready, boys?” I shook my hands out then slid on my fingerless gloves.

“Yep, let’s do this. Remember, watch each other’s backs. This scrap yard is dangerous enough on its own. Thankfully it’s a small, confined space, but that in and of itself could be trouble.”

I nodded as Josh spoke. This was his case, his bounty. We’d follow his lead.

As a group, we moved through the cover of the early morning darkness into the gate marking the scrap yard. Cars were stacked along one wall; old fridges and washers had their own stacks. This place puts off so many shadows with the crappy security lights and their bad angles. I kept waiting for the sound of a dog running at us, but there weren’t any. That was a bad sign in my book.

We rounded one of the many maze-like paths through the scrap yard heading for the back building. Each one of us had an integral part to play if this plan was going to work. The silence had my instincts screaming at me. Something was wrong. There should at least be the songs of the bugs and frogs around here. Right? I mean even at 4:00 A.M. bugs are out. The only time bugs were silent it meant trouble was afoot.

I let out a small, bird-like whistle, attracting Chip’s attention. I gave a hand signal to which he nodded. He had noticed what I had. I ducked and ran to the other side of the aisle. The sound of a big machine turning on drew all of our attention. We were looking around when a big ass wrecking ball swung my way. I dove to the ground and rolled out of its reach.

“What the fuck!” I snarled. I pulled my .45 from its holster and while on one knee called out the only warning this asshole would get. “Bailbondsman, turn off the vehicle! Now, or I open fire!” He didn’t take my warning. I didn’t take into account what would happen when I shot the bastard. It all happened in slow motion. He didn’t back down, the ball swung out at Chip and me again, so I opened fire. He grabbed his shoulder andslumped forward. I jumped up, ready to run for the machine when the ball made contact with the wall of scrap in front of us. We dove toward the opposite side as debris started to fall. Something slammed into me, propelling me into a pile of scrap. Shouts rang out through the night as the world around me exploded in pain only to go dark.

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