Chapter 1

Mid-August

The gun weighed heavily in Gabe’s hands. He gripped the cold steel, braced his feet, pulled back the trigger and released it. Bang, bang, bang. The rapid fire continued until he’d emptied his Sig Sauer.

Whipping off his noise-canceling headphones, he pressed the button on the wall to his right and the target zipped toward him. All chest entry points. Ninety percent into the heart. Huh! He had to get the accuracy up. Nothing short of perfection was good enough when Gabe went on the Presidential Protective Detail next week.

He was due at the White House before the new trainee class started here at the James T. Rowling Training Center, forty minutes from Washington, D.C. So he had no time to waste.

Outside, the hot August air hit him in the face. He slid into the van he’d driven over, rolled down the windows and headed away from the Wilkie Indoor Firing Range. Luckily, he liked sultry weather, as the morning temperature was already in the nineties. He entered his office five minutes later, whistling.

Seth Lincoln had let himself in with the key Gabe had given him when he’d agreed to take over the directorship of the training center. “You’re happy today,” Seth said, an odd tone in his voice.

“Yep.” He smiled at his colleague. “I’m heading out of here and I got a crack agent as my successor.”

Seth frowned. “About that.”

Gabe stilled. His gut told him this wasn’t good. Taking a seat behind the desk, he summoned his sensitive side. “What is it, Seth?”

“My wife has breast cancer. It’s stage two, so we caught the disease early and surgery is scheduled for next week. I had some pull at the hospital because I work for the government.”

Gabe crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry to hear that. And glad the cancer hasn’t spread too far. Please tell Louise I’m thinking of her.” He struggled to sound sincere. “What do you need?”

“Time off for the surgery and the treatment. I’ll take the furlough I’ve accumulated and then a leave of absence if I have to.”

Waiting for the rest, Gabe nodded.

“Chemo is six weeks. Radiation five. Recovery after that will take a while.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I was MIA for a lot of our marriage when I was an active agent, and we even separated over my absence. I can’t miss this, Gabe. I have to be there for her.” He shrugged. “And I have two kids to take care of. They’re in high school, but they’ll need me to help them through this and take the burden off her.”

The divorce rate in the Secret Service, mainly because of the agent’s long stretches of time out of town, was 85 percent. In the past, the agency recommended a female not take her husband’s last name, but of course, that was a moot point now as women didn’t seem to consider the change anymore.

“Of course you can have furlough. To the first of the year?”

The guy’s light complexion reddened, making his freckles stand out. “I hope that does it. But who knows if I’ll be able to take over here then? Your job is a lot of responsibility. And Louise might not be well enough. Or, God forbid, she could have a recurrence. You can’t really count on me.” Seth shook his head. “I know this puts you in a bad position.”

“Your family is more important than my immediate future. Besides, my transfer will work out. When do you want to leave?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Then, go today. I’ll cover for you. Marilyn will be able to step up to the director position here.”

Another sigh from Seth. “I talked to her before I came to meet you. She said I could tell you this, but she’s coming in later to discuss it with you.”

Gabe’s scalp itched. “Tell me what?”

“Marilyn’s pregnant. And because she’s in her forties, this is a high-risk pregnancy.”

You gotta be kidding me.

“That’s joyous news, Seth.”

“It is, but her situation knocks your plan back further. The doctor said she has to take it easy. She can’t run a rigorous training camp for almost five months.”

Gabe stood and circled around the desk. “You don’t have to concern yourself with all this. Go home and take care of your family. Do you need anything from me as far as getting the time off, with insurance, anything like that?”

“No, Gabe. All I needed was your understanding. Thank you. And I hope the PPD works out for you.”

“Keep me updated.”

Seth left the office.

Gabe walked to the window to look out at the 493 acres he’d hoped to leave behind very soon. His father used to say, Man makes plans and God laughs. Right now, Gabe heard guffaws coming from above.

* * *

Macy Stevens was at her wit’s end, not uncommon in her dealings with her ten-year-old son. “Simon, you know I have to work at four. I can’t take you to the park today.”

“You always work. I hate the restaurant.”

As owner and manager of Macy’s Place, she had a lot of responsibilities, but she also had three employees who helped run the restaurant and bar in Maryland.

“Maybe I can call Gabe.”

Her son scowled. “I don’t wanna see him. He’s leaving us.”

Simon’s child psychologist had said to tell Simon the news of Gabe’s departure from the training center ASAP because he’d have trouble dealing with it. Gabe could help with that if he was around. But Simon had refused to see Gabe after he’d given her son the bad news.

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about us.”

Simon shook his head vehemently. Some of his blond locks fell onto his forehead. “Yes it does, Mom.” His voice rose on the last word and he hurled the glass he held to the floor. The whole thing shattered.

One, two, three, four, five. Not enough. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

“Go to your room young man and think about what you’ve done.”

Leaping off the chair—thank God he had sneakers on—Simon landed right in the middle of the glass with a crunch, spreading the shards even farther. Before he reached the doorway, she said, “Stop.”

He whirled on her. As calmly as she could, Macy walked to him and gave him her best Mother Look. “Take your shoes off or you’ll track glass into the rest of the house.”

Mutiny, thick and ugly, burned in his eyes. Though she knew better than to blame herself for her son’s behavioral issues, she couldn’t help the negative thoughts that claimed her. What had she ever done to deserve this from Simon, except love him with all her heart?

* * *

“Fuck. Shit. Goddamn it.” Simon used every bad word he’d ever heard and ones he found on the Internet. He hated her. He hated his life. He hated his dead father.

But most of all, he hated Gabe. The shithead.

He flopped down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling of his room. His mother had painted a picture of the sky with stars there after they moved into this crummy apartment. His father died and she found them a new home.

His father.

Take care of your mother for me.

Simon had said yes, not knowing he’d have to do it forever. Not knowing some asshole would take his dad out when he was guarding a hotshot in a foreign country.

“Shit,” he said turning over and burying his face in the pillow. “Shit, shit, shit.”

* * *

Gabe walked into Macy’s Place a few minutes before the restaurant closed. The space was homey, open for food until 8:00 p.m. and drinks for two hours after that. Gabe wanted to spend time with her and was hoping she had some to give to him. The woman had a centering effect on him, a way of putting things in perspective.

Two agents got up from stools at the oak bar. Adjacent to that were ten tables made of the same heavy wood scattered on the floor.

The agents both smiled at her. “Thanks, Macy.”

“See ya, sweetheart.”

Everybody flirted with Macy Stevens. Except Gabe. He valued her friendship too much, and besides, what did he have to give her but more of the same stuff that had gotten her husband killed?

She caught sight of him. God, she was pretty, with her strawberry-blond hair back in a braid, her hazel eyes bright. She even had freckles. The typical girl next door. Not for the first time, he wondered how Spike Stevens had ever won her over. The guy could be a nasty son of a bitch, though he was a solid agent.

“Hey, handsome.” She smiled until he got closer. “What’s wrong?”

“Long day.”

She checked the clock. “It’s closing time. We can go back to the apartment.”

Macy and her son lived in a surprisingly large space behind the restaurant. Having a business with a residence was convenient. There was even a yard for Simon, where Gabe had played catch with him.

He rolled his eyes to the pitched ceiling. “You see right through me. That’s what I was hoping for.”

“Want something to eat? There’s some spaghetti left over in the fridge from dinner.” The restaurant served only one entree a night.

“No, but I’ll take a beer.” When she retrieved a bottle, he reached into his pocket.

“Don’t even think about paying. With all the time you spend with Simon…”

“I don’t want anything in return, Macy.”

“Yeah, I know, and that’s the best part.”

Ducking under the bar, she crossed to the front door, locked it and turned off the outside lights. He wondered if she liked her lifestyle. Macy had worked here part-time since she and Spike moved to Maryland. After her husband had been killed in the line of duty, she’d bought the place from the owner. She’d renovated the interior with part of the death benefit she received from the Secret Service and life insurance. The rest of that hefty sum she was saving for Simon’s school.

He followed her back to the living quarters, which she’d redone, too. A plush leather chair, two earth-toned couches, and hardwood floors took up the main room. There was a kitchen separated from the living area by a long counter with stools butting up to it. Two bedrooms flanked the other side. He and Macy dropped down on the same sofa.

She tucked her knees under her and turned toward him. “So how’s the new appointee to the PPD doing?”

He took a sip of his beer. “The move got very complicated today.”

“Is this still about taking your brother’s place?”

Gabe had had a hard time with the fact that he was replacing Nick on the PPD. Nick had tried to set him straight, that he was leaving the detail for his wife and family, but it must be difficult to watch Gabe ascend to that coveted position in the Secret Service.

“No. You helped me rethink those feelings. Two other things happened today.” He told her about Seth and Marilyn.

“Wow, a double whammy.” She was thoughtful. “There’s got to be a way around this.”

“No one else can take my spot at the center.”

“You have other trainers, don’t you?”

“Of course. The closest to promotion is Dave Franklin.” A former agent who’d been injured and come on board last year. “But he’s not prepared to take on the directorship or the full training class that’s coming in next week.”

“Damn! Then your move will have to be postponed.” He liked how she took a positive attitude toward things. To him, the events of today were bleak.

“God, I hate to ask for that. I already got the position as a favor.”

Her light brown brows furrowed. “You got this position, Agent Marino, for cracking wide open the ring of dirty cops that had resurfaced, and in the process, you saved the life of the president’s sister.”

“Yeah.” She always made him see the bright side of things. “I guess I did.”

“So tomorrow, you’ll call Jimmy”—he’d told her how all three agents in the family got a kick out of hearing Nick and Isabelle call the president by his nickname—“and tell him the circumstances. My money’s on his total understanding.”

Maybe. Nick was still on protective detail, planning to quit when Gabe arrived next week. Something might be able to be worked out. Gabe studied the woman before him. It seemed like even a mere conversation with her could make him feel better.

“All right. I’ll talk to the president.” He sighed. “Enough about me. How’s our boy?”

Her eyes shadowed. “Today was a bad day.” She shook her head, loosening tendrils from her braid. “He wanted me to take him to the Breezy Waters. I said no because I had to work. But also because we’d gone there last weekend. He got furious and smashed his glass on the floor.”

“Seriously? He hasn’t had an outburst like that in a while, has he?”

“No, but this is his Oppositional Defiance Disorder kicking in.”

“I’m sorry. You know you could have called me. I would have taken him when I finished work.”

She just stared at him.

“Ah, I see. You thought of that, but he said no.” The boy was pissed at him for leaving. When Gabe had delivered the bad news, Simon screamed at him, called him names, then collapsed in his arms, crying.

“I know that hurts you, Gabe, but he’s got to face reality. You were planning to leave next week. He won’t have you in his life to count on.” She sighed. “I’m not sure how your relationship got so far anyway.”

“After Spike died, all the department wanted to help.”

“And Simon took to you.”

“I know me leaving is hard for him, but I’ll only be forty-five minutes away, and I can come back as often as I want to do things with him. I’ll have shifts off from the PPD. And when I train, I’ll be back here in Beltsville for several days.”

Though it changed at times, most PPD agents worked two-week shifts during the day, then went on night shifts for that amount of time. There was also training and, of course, traveling with the president.

“You’ll build a new life.” She leaned over and socked him in the arm. “You’ll probably meet some gorgeous blonde, get married and have kids of your own.”

“I highly doubt that.” He watched her. “Mace, don’t count me out yet. Let Simon try to deal with his issues. Talk to his psychologist.”

“Do you think that’s best?”

He liked that she relied on his opinion about Simon. But God, had he inadvertently hurt her by befriending the boy? “For now.”

“I’ll do that, then. But you call the president. Tell him your circumstances.”

“It’s a deal.”

* * *

Macy crawled into bed at 1:00 a.m. almost too tired to sleep. What a day. Simon had thrown a tantrum, even though those outbursts had lessened over time. Then she’d talked with Gabe. But the hard conversation had to take place. Not only was Simon going to be overwrought when Gabe left, but so would she. Somehow, she’d managed to maintain a platonic relationship with him despite the fact that she’d always thought, even when she was married to Spike, that Gabe was about the sexiest guy she’d ever met. Something about his quiet ways, his intense concentration when he focused on you made him super-attractive. Then, there was his dark hair, crystal-blue eyes and a trainer’s build.

Which sometimes made her antsy at night. Like now. After being with him.

But she’d squelched her attraction to him with a ruthlessness she hadn’t even known she had, because it was obvious to her that if she couldn’t keep her husband happy, interested and wanting to be home more, she could never satisfy a man like Gabe. On that ugly thought, she turned over and willed herself to sleep.

* * *

The next night, Gabe walked into Nick’s new house in Maryland, not far from the training campus. The two-story, three-thousand-square-foot home, nestled in a typical suburban area, had four bedrooms and three baths, a finished basement, hardwood floors and skylights. The American-dream house. They’d bought the place with the money Isabelle had gotten from the sale of her lake property and her share of the bookstore as well as Nick’s profit on his condo in D.C. In all of Gabe’s wild imaginings, he couldn’t see his brother ever settling down like this. The reason for the change in Nick came out of the hallway to the foyer.

“Gabe, how good to see you. Nick said you were coming for dinner.”

He kissed Isabelle Marino. She was a beauty. Light brown hair. Green eyes like the president’s. Her code name, the ones the agency gave to the president and his family, was appropriately Fair Lady. “Hey, gorgeous. My brother treating you well?”

She beamed. “The best.”

“Of course I am.” Nick entered through a side room off the foyer. His shoulders were relaxed, his face unlined and his smile quick. “Nice to see you, bro.” They hugged. Another new thing. Though Gabe was naturally affectionate, Nick had always been more standoffish.

“Where are the guys?”

“They’re with Whitney and Max.” His cousin and her sometimes partner in the Secret Service. They primarily worked in the Threat Assessment Center but also took specialized protective detail. They were still guarding Isabelle and the boys when Nick wasn’t home since the Blue Shadow roundup wasn’t finished. “They all went to a movie.”

He stuck his hands into his pockets. “Can we talk before dinner?”

“Want to come in my den?”

“No, this concerns both of you.”

They settled in a nook in the kitchen, full of warmth and sunshine like the rest of the house, with its fans circulating the air coming in from the outdoors. “Something’s come up at the training center.”

Nick nodded. “Okay.”

Gabe explained how his situation could affect Nick’s tenure on the PPD. “But Nick, you don’t have to stay on. The president can replace me permanently. I’ll find something else in protection.”

Husband and wife exchanged looks.

Nick spoke. “I don’t think you would necessarily lose the PPD if I left. The president could get a replacement for a few months.” He grasped Isabelle’s hand. “But I do have to leave. We have some news of our own.”

“Yeah?”

“Hmm.” Isabelle’s smile was broad.

Nick grinned like a man who’d been given the moon. “Isabelle’s pregnant. Twins again.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. She already has twins, and Mom’s a twin, so we’ve both got it in our genes.”

“That’s such good news.”

“And they’re girls.”

“Holy shit. I want the details. When do they come? What do the boys think? Did you know when you bought this big house?” After much discussion of their coming babies, Gabe sobered. “No matter what happens, you have to get off protective duty.”

Nick agreed again.

Isabelle squeezed Gabe’s arm. “Why don’t you talk to Jimmy? See what he can come up with.”

“I will. But don’t worry about me, especially now. I came here to tell you in person I won’t let you down.” Like he did when he was disgraced—the situation had caused some self-imposed alienation from his family. Thankfully, that was changing.

“Gabe, you’re a skilled agent and a great brother. You have nothing to worry about where I’m concerned.”

Dinner was a happy time, discussing what Nick would eventually do when he went off the detail, how they would handle living with two sets of twins. But mostly, watching the married couple together brought joy to Gabe’s heart.

And some envy. He thought about the woman he’d married when he was twenty-five, foolishly thinking she could handle his job. She couldn’t, but he didn’t blame her.

He blamed himself for that—and a lot of other things.

* * *

Simon got a text from Gabe. He wasn’t gonna read it. He hated the guy. So he threw his phone on the bed, kicked the drawers in the dresser and swore again. He’d been pissed off last night, but he had to make himself mad this morning.

“Shit.” He walked to the phone and picked it up, clicked on.

Hey, buddy. Simon liked when Gabe called him that. I want to talk to you.

His fingers worked fast on the keys. Nope. You’re leaving me.

You know I’ll be around after I quit the training center.

Mom doesn’t think so.

I told her I would be last night.

I’ll think about it. But I’m still pissed at you.

That’s okay. But see me and we can talk.

A knock on the door. I gotta go.

He clicked off. Another knock.

“What?” he called out rudely.

“Simon, I need to take you to school now.”

“School doesn’t start for weeks.”

“We have a meeting with your teacher and classmates about Camp Stepping Stones.” The school held a week-long camp right after school started for the students to get to know each other. Simon liked the trip last year. There were lots of sports and activities and he got to stay in a cabin.

“Simon, say I can come in? I won’t discuss this with you through wood.” They had no lock on the door because his mom worried he’d hurt himself sometime if he closed himself in, but she’d promised to get his permission.

“You can come in.”

She pushed open the door. And made him feel like shit. She looked terrible. She probably hadn’t slept because he’d been bad yesterday. So he didn’t say anything mean to her.

“We don’t have to discuss Gabe, Simon. But we have to address your outburst yesterday. And then we have to go to the meeting about the trip.” She arched a brow. “If I let you go.”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“You know very well what I mean. We talked with Greg about consequences of your actions.”

Greg was his counselor. Who was cool. “He said you should be strict with me and not let me get away with murder.”

“He also said there had to be repercussions for your actions.”

“I wanna go on the trip.”

“Then I strongly suggest you talk to me.”