Page 2 of Blackstone's Heart
“I’m okay Daddy.” Krista said quietly.
“I know baby. This whole mess has me a little overprotective of you and I won’t apologize for that either.” Nick stated.
Nick released Krista and moved back to his chair while Jerry and Krista sat in the two chairs in front of his desk. Once everyone was reseated, Jerry pulled out the copies of the letters from his briefcase and laid them on the desk.
“Here’s the copies. Jimmy and Cain say the handwriting looks the same as the others. The postmark was from San Antonio this time.” Jerry began.
Nick took one while Krista took the other. Nick frowned as he read the words.
My Dearest Kris,
Why are you ignoring me? We are meant to be. You knew it as I did the first time we met. I don’t like that those F.B.I agents are trying to keep us apart. No one can keep us away from each other. You are mine and I am yours.
We will be together and you will see my love. I am the only one who truly understands you. There’s no point in delaying this Kris, you can’t stop fate.
Nick laid the letter back on the desk and ran his hand over his face. He had no desire to read the other letter. He knew it would read much the same. When he looked up again he found Krista looked pissed and was putting the letter he had just read on the desk. Guilt suddenly filled Nick.
There had been a change in her stalker case yet it was a change only he knew about. He was still weighing his options about how to handle this change. Once he made a choice he would tell her. He looked at his only daughter and her best friend and agent.
“This is getting ridiculous! We have no leads, no idea who this is and personally I’m getting pretty sick and tired of looking over my shoulder every time I step out of my damn house!” Krista hissed as she stood and began pacing.
Jerry rubbed his chin. “Nick, what else can we do? I mean, we’ve got the Feds involved, Austin PD are a doing drive-by every few days, I can’t think of anything more we can do about this.”
Nick leaned back in his chair, feeling much older than his sixty-four-years. “I can’t think of anything else we can do Jerry. Waiting always seems to be the hardest part.”
“I’ll say.” Krista mumbled, dropping back into the chair and slouching.
“Just be patient honey. That’s about all I can think of to tell you at this point.” Nick said sadly.
***
Ethan jerked awake, cold sweat trickling down his neck. Breathing heavily, he swiped a hand over his face as he tossed back the sheets, biting back a curse and rose from the bed. Silent as a shadow, he moved to the window, staring out over the back of his property watching dawn break.
Slowly his breathing returned to its normal pattern. Yet the sadness and guilt remained like a landmine in his gut. It was nearing the two-year mark of the death of several of his teammates and brothers in some Iraqi desert. Even now he could still feel the heat of the desert, smell the burning Humvee and burning flesh.THE SMELL OF DEATH.
'Christ! You have to put this shit behind you, man! Pull yourself together, Blackstone.'He ordered himself.
Taking a deep breath, Ethan turned from the window and headed for the shower, stripping as he went. He reached into his glass enclosed shower and turned the knobs. While waiting for the water to heat up, he moved to the sink and stared at his reflection. His grey-blue eyes seemed hollow. This was nothing new whenever he had dreams of that final mission. He didn’t dream of it often, but for the last year they seemed to happen more and in an infrequent pattern. He couldn’t figure out what was triggering them now, other than the three-year anniversary of the event.
When the steam began wafting out of the shower, he climbed in under the scalding water. As the water beat over him, he pressed his palms flat against the tiled wall, hanging his head as the memories of the last mission replayed in his mind. The day had been bright, clear and hot as the blazes of Hell itself. The intel they had received seemed promising. He had been the last of the MARSOC team to load into the Humvee. Ethan and his men were ready for anything. Anything except the ambush that had awaited them in that Iraqi desert.
Ten minutes later, feeling more like himself, he exited the bathroom and began dressing for the day. He pulled on black tactical pants and a drab green t-shirt. After he was clothed he then sat on the bed to pull on his combat boots. He had just grabbed his cell off the charger when it rang in his hand.
"Blackstone."
"Hey boss man."
Ethan smirked at the southern drawl of his second in command, Gage Carson. "Whatcha need, Carson?"
"What I need you can't give me, sweet cheeks."Gage joked.
"Asshole." Ethan laughed heading downstairs for coffee.
"Yeah, love ya too. Anyway, just got into the office and found the esteemed District Attorney Nicholas Jameson waiting outside your office."Gage stated.
Ethan stopped dead in his tracks. "What?"
"Yep. Says he'll only talk to you, boss. He looks, well, I'd say scared."Gage reported.
