Page 21 of Inevitable Dream

She’s a vision of beauty. Her bruises are fading, but Rod Tyler fucked with my woman, and I can’t let that go. I shut the bedroom door behind me and slip on my boots, then lock the front door behind me. Downstairs, waiting for me, is Falcon, with the car idling.

Once we’re in the car, we take off like a shot, heading across town to the strip joint. “Tell me you’ve got your shit under control,” Falcon says as he glances in my direction.

“I’m fine.”

“Fine to what? Beat the shit out of him?”

“I want to, but I promised to let the cops do their thing. We have enough evidence to convict Tyler, and he’s going to jail.”

“But not before you get in a couple of swats of your own. Right?”

“He’ll still be able to walk when I’m done,” I reply with a grin.

Falcon shakes his head, but I know he won’t deny me a little revenge.

Bull’s waiting for us outside the club, leaning against the brick wall, arms crossed over his chest. Next to him is another man, who must be Slim. He’s not slim. Slim’s well into his forties, with a receding hairline and a beer gut, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and dark sunglasses that are completely ridiculous at this hour of the morning. But if this guy found Tyler, then I’m sending him a bottle of Scotch.

“These your boys?” Slim asks Bull in a husky voice.

“That’s them,” Bull confirms with a nod.

“Hey,” Falcon greets Slim, extending his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Was it your girl the son of a bitch attacked?” Slim asks Falcon.

I step forward and shake Slim’s hand. “That’d be my girl. Thanks for tracking this guy down. Make sure you drop by the office tomorrow for payment.”

“This one’s on me. No man has the right to beat on a woman. Just keep me in mind if you need anyone found. It’s my specialty,” he says with a smile. “I’ll be on my way. He’s the guy at the bar, baseball cap on backward, his eyes glued to the stage. I’m surprised his eyes haven’t fallen out of his head.”

He tips his glasses to the bridge of his nose, his gesture for goodbye, and takes off down the sidewalk. He gets into his Ford F150.

“How do you want to handle this?” Bull asks.

“Bull and I will go in and get him. Rebel, you wait for us here,” Falcon says. I want to go in and am about to tell him so when he says, “If we can get him to confess to a couple of guys he thinks are his new best friends, then this will go a lot faster through the courts.”

“Yeah, okay.” I rake my fingers through my hair. While the two men go into the club, I sit back in Falcon’s SUV, stewing. Surveillance is the worst part of the job. I’ve learned patience on the many missions the team has been on as a unit, until a situation becomes dire. Falcon is the master of patience and perfect timing. He planned our missions down to the very last detail.

I, on the other hand, have a reputation for going in hard and getting out fast when the situation calls for action. “Rebel” fits my personality for many reasons. We can plan all we like to prepare for a mission, but stuff goes awry all the time, and we have no trouble adjusting on a dime and getting results. When a mother and her baby were in the line of enemy fire and their home was torched, they were forced out into the open. The smart thing to do was move back and find another way to the mother and child, but time was of the essence. I forged through the thick cloud of smoke, with Phoenix and Bull at my back and diverting the enemy, while Falcon and Wire took to a higher position to keep the rebel forces at a distance. Archer, our other army brother, had joined the unit by that time. He was beside me all the way. Archer swooped in and picked up the baby boy, and I grabbed his mother. We made it to safety without casualties, but it was a risky move. It was then that Falcon said that my father did one thing right. That was to call me Rebel.”

After Falcon tore a shred off both Archer and me for not following protocol, he slapped us both on the back and told us he was proud of his team.

It seems like I’ve been waiting in the car for a lifetime when I see Bull leading Tyler out of the bar. Falcon is trailing behind, giving me a two-finger salute, his signal that they got him to confess. I sigh a breath of relief, knowing his fate is sealed, but not enough to snuff out my taste for blood.

On the way back to the Storm offices, Rod Tyler sobers up enough to understand why we picked him up. He’s now handcuffed and sitting on a chair in the basement of the building. It was specially designed for just these types of occasions. We haven’t had the chance to break it in until now.

“That’s enough!” Falcon shouts, hauling me back and putting himself between me and the man crumpled on the floor. Falcon lightly pushes me backward, getting in my face. “You got your licks in. Now we deliver him to the cops with the evidence.”

“He fucking beat her to shit!” I roar back, pointing to the dirtbag, Rod Tyler, lying in a heap on the cement floor.

“Is this what Sadie would want?” He lowers his voice and looks into my eyes challengingly, tilting his head to one side. He knows Sadie is my kryptonite. Falcon also knows that Sadie’s brand of justice would be handing Tyler over to the police and letting the justice system prevail.

I fist my bloody knuckles by my sides, close my eyes, and inhale deeply, slowly exhaling to get my fury under control. “Get him out of my sight before I kill him.” Falcon leads me away, leaving Bull with Tyler.

“Phoenix is making a call to his buddy Damian. Damian and his crew are coming to get Tyler. Seeing that Tyler has a long list of offenses, starting in Colorado, we called Damian, and he can take it from there. Go home to Sadie. Let her know that we’ve caught this guy, and he’ll pay for what he’s put her through.” Falcon walks me to his SUV and hands me the keys. “Bring it back tomorrow and be ready, because I’m putting you on the missing data analyst case tomorrow. You and Wire are going to track Mitchell Fontaine’s movements for the last month. I want to know where he’s been, what he’s been doing, everything.” He opens the driver’s door, “Go home. Get your head straight.”

I climb in and drive away. Much as I hate to admit it, leaving Tyler to the cops is the best course of action. The tension eases in my neck, and I concentrate on heading back to my place. It’s early morning, and I’m sure Sadie’s up by now.

Phoenix is leaving the apartment parking lot as I’m driving in. He stops to ask, “Are you okay?”

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