Epilogue
Six months later…
“I have a confession to make.”
Mack and Quinn were in the apartment they shared. They’d just made love more times than she could count. And they were lounging around in their bed. It was a Sunday afternoon and they hadn’t done anything, except make love and drink way too much.
Quinn hadn’t been able to find a job since he was a felon and a notorious one at that. However, between his illicit stash and her salary, they made more than enough money to move out of HQ.
“What?” She rolled over and propped her head on a hand.
“I’ve gone straight now, and I promised I wouldn’t steal anymore, but I had to pick up one last thing for you.”
“You’re on probation!”
“I didn’t forget.”
“Oh my God. What is it?” She was almost afraid to ask.
He handed her a velvet box. Quinn must’ve been hiding it under the pillows. Inside, were two small diamonds, nestled together on the satin lining.
Somehow, they looked familiar.
“Those belong to your mother and grandmother.”
“How on earth did you get them?”
“Easy. I broke into your stepfather’s house and I replaced the diamonds on his ring with cubic zirconia. A friend of mine’s a jeweler and he works fast. Anyway, I left the one he bought your mother, of course.”
“And just how did you get around the ankle bracelet? It tracks your movements.” The government kept him on a tight leash.
“I might have asked Storm for some help.”
“Fantastic, you had a couple accomplices in your felony.” While the gang really hadn’t taken a shine to Quinn, they didn’t actively hate him as much anymore. Considering the circumstances, it was a decent outcome.
“Never mind the legal ramifications. What do you think?” He was almost vibrating with anticipation.
“I don’t know what to say.” Mack ran a finger over both of the diamonds. Having them back in her possession was a relief.
“A thank you always works.”
“Thank you, Quinn.” She laid a hand against the side of his cheek and kissed him softly.
“You’re very welcome. But, you’ll need a larger diamond to sit between those two.”
“What are you saying exactly?” Was this a proposal? Did he just want to get her a shiny diamond? Regardless, Mack got the distinct impression, he was up to something. “And why do you have a wicked gleam in your eye?”
“What if I did one last job? It could last me the rest of my days.”
She rolled her eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“But I am. You know I always wanted to steal some jewels, like a real cat burglar.”
“Do you know how close you came to spending the next twenty years in jail?”
“I know. And I won’t do this, if you tell me not to.” But it was hard to resist the sparkle in those soulful eyes.
“Ugh, I’m gonna regret this.” Mack already knew it was a terrible idea, but she had to know more. “Go on then. Tell me about it.”
“So, I found out Tiffany’s has a warehouse in New Jersey.”
“Let me guess, you want to snatch a diamond for me.”
“How did you know?” Quinn waggled his brows.
“Because I know you.” Mack wished she could say, the idea didn’t intrigue her. “Just one last job?”
“Yes, I promise.” He laid a hand on his heart.
“I’m not saying yes, but I wanna know more about the plan.”
And then he told her everything.
Author’s Note
Thank you so much for reading the Black Star Security series! This is the last book. I can’t believe the end came so fast. However, I am publishing a new military romance series, Kinky Security. Keep reading for a sneak peek!
Blurb
Running away from his troubles
Jacob “Flash” Franklin is a former Navy SEAL with many burdens, but he’s always managed to keep them in his rearview mirror. Until now. The women in his life have a way of ending up six feet under. First his sister, and then his client, the one he failed to protect. For once, Flash is sick of running. He longs to be held accountable for his misdeeds, punished.
Know when you are Beaten
Sage McQueen is a dominatrix, working at a local Kentucky sex club. Men pay for the privilege of bowing down before her and she doles out penance, not pleasure. Flash wants Sage to discipline him, too. But she finds herself drawn to Flash. He’s holding on to a lot of pain and guilt, and she wants to set him free. The fine line between personal and professional gets really blurry.
But what happens when another client becomes obsessed with her? Will Flash keep Sage alive, even though he’s failed before? And will their relationship evolve into something real?
Tie Me Down
“You want us to work for you?”
“Why are you repeating everything I just said? Yes, I’d like to hire Harlow Security.”
Jacob “Flash” Franklin and his boss, Helen Harlow, sat across from Finnegan, the enigmatic owner of a sex club, Edge. Finnegan was so mysterious, he didn’t even have a last name.
Harlow had asked the question, but Flash was having trouble believing it, too. However, they weren’t really in a position to be picky.
Not after my fuck up, anyway.
Jobs had been few and far between for weeks. They’d barely been able to make ends meet.
Harlow blinked. “We’re just havin’ trouble digestin’ it. Can I ask what prompted you to call us?”
“A mutual friend of ours, Storm, recommended your firm.” He smirked. “Actually, the term friend is a bit too strong. He’s an acquaintance, a rather unpleasant one.”
Flash recognized the nickname. Storm and Harlow trained together at The Farm. She was a former CIA agent who’d worked with Flash’s Navy SEAL team to identify targets.
“Are you sure?” Flash asked. “Especially after the incident.” It had made national headlines.
Finn’s expression was grave. “Yes, I’ve seen the news, but I’m a big believer in second chances.” He ran a hand down the line of his elegant suit. “And despite appearances, I’m not perfect.”
Flash didn’t like the man. He was arrogant, irritating, handsome, and he knew it. And he really didn’t like the way Finn was looking at Harlow. The man was practically eye-fucking her. But they literally couldn’t afford to pass up this opportunity.
“Thank you for givin’ us a shot.” Flash couldn’t stand to see his brothers and sisters in arms pay for his actions. He’d tried to resign, but Harley wouldn’t hear of it.
“Besides, you’re in no position to negotiate, so you’re gonna knock twenty percent off your usual fee.”
Flash expected Harlow to argue, but she didn’t.
Instead, she nodded. “We’ll consider your offer.”
Apparently, Harlow Security was a bargain basement firm now. Thanks to me.
Flash scoped out the office while they hashed out the business aspects. It was plush—with thick black carpet, a leather couch, and a massive walnut desk.
Dum Vivimus Vivamus.
There was a framed picture featuring the phrase on the wall. His high school Latin was rusty, but Flash thought it translated to while we live, let us live. The Latin phrase was practically a hedonistic mission statement and it definitely suited Finn. Flash didn’t know the man well, but he made a distinct impression.
“How long will you need security?” Flash asked, tuning in once again since they’d dealt with all the logistics.
“Indefinitely.” Finn rubbed his jaw.
Well, at least they got a long-term gig out of this. He wasn’t looking forward to selling his shit on Craigslist or donating plasma to pay the bills.
Finn rubbed his hands together. “Excellent, since we’ve dispensed with the business aspect of this conversation, we can get down to more interesting matters. Tell me, Helen, are you seeing anyone at the moment?”
“I prefer to be called Harlow,” she said coolly.
“Nonsense, I want us to be on a first name basis.”
“Speaking of, what is your last name?” Flash asked.
Finn shrugged. “Perhaps I’ll tell you one day.
“I’m not sure where this conversation is headed, but just to be crystal clear,” Harlow said. “I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
Finn raised a brow. “Funnily enough, business is my pleasure.” He glanced at Flash, and his perusal was almost predatory.
Is he tryin’ to start somethin’ with me? Because I’m in no mood.
He’d been spoiling for a fight for weeks. Punching this guy might be the cure for what ails me. Flash wanted to beat the tar out of somebody else, if only to have a target for all this rage and pain.
Is that what you really want? Or do you need somebody to punish you…?
The thought made him gasp.
“And what about you?” Finn prompted.
Flash squinted. “I don’t follow.” And then it hit him. “Oh? Are you hitting on me? Because…”
“You’re not gay?” Finn leered. “Neither am I. I’m bisexual and it was just a question.”
“Sorry, I’m not interested.”
The man shrugged, as though it didn’t matter. “I’m truly taken with your supervisor, but you might’ve been a nice bonus. But I guess I’ll settle for a productive partnership.” Finn held his hand out to Harlow.
Harlow stared at his fingers as if they were spiders. “I’m never sleepin’ with you. Ever.”
Finn chuckled. “Check. Make that one job offer and no sex.”
Weird. Finnegan seemed to be delighted by her refusal, rather than upset. Maybe he liked a challenge?
Regardless, if Finn made a move on Harlow again, Flash would take care of it. Harlow could kick ass and take names, but he’d still put the hurt on anybody who didn’t respect her boundaries. Flash didn’t like when men acted like assholes with women. Pushy dickheads gave all guys a bad reputation.
Finn turned to Harlow. “Shake on it?”
Harlow shook Finn’s hand.
And just like that, they were in business. Flash had an ominous notion. He felt as if they’d made a deal with the devil.
Hmph. Maybe we should change the firm’s name to Kinky Security?
About the Author
Cynthia Rayne is the USA TODAY bestselling author of the Black Star Security, Lone Star, and Four Horsemen MC Series. While Cynthia was born and raised a damn Yankee in Ohio, her parents hail from Dixie, and she grew up on homemade buttermilk biscuits and southern wisdom. In her spare time, she enjoys shopping, reading way too many romance novels, and drinking a truly obscene amount of coffee.
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Copyright
© Cynthia Rayne 2018
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review or book discussion, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
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Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s wicked imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and frankly a bit creepy.