Page 37 of Hot Shot

“Now I’m kind of excited. I need to talk to Beck about this.”

Our wedding conversation continues over another cocktail, until Hayden frowns and says, “Jeez, where are those guys? They’ve been gone awhile.”

“True.” I haven’t even seen them.

“Come on, let’s go find them.” Hayden hops off her stool and I follow her down the hall to the office from which the three former SEALs run their business.

They’re all behind a desk, scowling at the computer. They look up as Hayden and I enter.

“Hey, baby.” Beck stretches out a hand to Hayden.

Marco’s hot glare lands on me and makes my nipples tingle. He’s so intense.

“What’s taking so long?” Hayden asks.

“We’re looking at the video from the new security camera.”

“What are you seeing?” Hayden leans over to peer at the monitor.

“We got an excellent view of the fucker,” Marco snarls. “Look.” He nudges the monitor.

I move around behind the desk also to watch the grainy video the security camera captured.

A smallish person with a baseball cap, clearly a young teenager, paints with abandon. In a way, it’s kind of beautiful, the way he uses the spray cans of paint to create an image, taking his time to study the wall and the picture he’s creating. I get that the guys are unhappy with this, though.

I tilt my head, frowning faintly as I watch the graffiti artist, realizing it’s a girl, not a boy, and the movements look vaguely familiar. Then the girl takes off her cap, a fall of blond hair cascading down her back as she studies her work, and the camera catches her face clearly.

“Oh sweet baby Jesus!” I gape at the screen, blinking.

Every head swivels to look at me.

“What?” Marco barks.

“Oh no. Oh my God,” Hayden breathes, also recognizing the girl.

I close my eyes. “This can’t be happening.”

“What?” Marco asks again with increased roughness. “What is happening?”

I set my hand over my mouth and meet Marco’s eyes. “That’s my niece.”

9

MARCO

“Your niece?” I scowl at Carrie, trying to ignore how fucking edible she looks.

She lifts a shaky hand to her mouth, eyes wide. She just stares back at me, saying nothing.

“You sure?” I growl.

Carrie glances at Hayden, who grimaces. “It looks like Julia. Of course, I haven’t seen her for a while.”

“How old is she?” Beck asks in a gentler tone than I did.

Carrie swallows. “Fourteen. She’s been going through a rough time lately. Her parents—my sister and her husband—recently separated.”

“I’m calling the cops.” I reach for my cellphone.

---