PI AND SECURITIES FIRM

Hearing heavy footsteps approach from the hall, Flynn finally came into view. He was my right-hand man, my second in command. And my best friend, the guy who had anchored me through so many storms.

“The men are ready, sir.”

I nodded. At this time of day, the men were ready, eager for their assignments like clockwork.

My team consisted of twelve men, all handpicked by me, according to their own unique and specialized skills. I asked for their loyalty, and their pledge to justice. All brothers who promised to leave no man behind. They were men who walked between the lines of black and white when no one else would. The old warehouse appeared abandoned, but nothing could be further from the truth. You wouldn’t find a company name on our building, or the internet. It was strictly referral only.

“Good morning,” I greeted them as I reached the conference room. I had my file in hand and was prepared to put the new plan in place.

“Industrial espionage,” I began. “Our new client: Morton Software. We believe the primary target is an individual who has infiltrating this particular company, by gaining employment and obtaining privileged information, and then selling the information to the highest bidder.”

Tapping the papers on the table, I allowed them to fall in an organized manner.

“Flynn has secured three positions within the company to investigate the premises. Bradly, you will be tracking the data theft and monitoring any breaches within the network. Elliot, you’re in human resources to analyze the source through any suspicious employee activities. Finally, Travis, you are our new maintenance man. Travel from office to office, focusing on unattended computers, documents left on desk, even wastepaper baskets. The objective is to narrow down the source of the intrusion.” My eyes searched the men, one by one. “Any questions?”

My phone vibrated in my pocket, so I reached for it. The screen said unknown, but this was common in my line of work. I held up one finger to the men.

“Steel Archer,” I answered.

“Mr. Archer, this is Jordan Mitchelle. Do you remember me?”

I felt a punch to the gut as I was catapulted back to that night. A hostage scene, a shooting, one man down, but the victim survived. The thought was sobering, but I recovered quickly. I covered the phone, telling Flynn to proceed.

“Of course, I remember you, Ms. Mitchelle.”

I rounded the corner and disappeared into my office, but, the constant flow of memoires continued. I remembered taking out the threat and pulling her out of the darkness, out of the clutches of that pariah. Her gaze had locked on mine, her amber eyes soft as I protected her within my arms.

“I wanted to thank you.”

I could hear the hesitation in her voice.

“Can I take you to dinner, to show my gratitude?”

“Dinner?” The thought caused a prickling sensation. Dating and relationships didn’t coincide in my line of work. “It’s unnecessary, Ms. Mitchelle. Really, I was just doing my job.”

“I insist, Mr. Archer”

“Fine, dinner, but call me Steel.” I responded, my tone a bit clipped. Then I recalled her pleading eyes as they had zeroed in on mine with such intensity.

“Shall we meet tomorrow at Palmer Steak House, at seven?”

“Tomorrow, then.”

I understood my own reluctance. Women just didn’t fit in my world.

I returned to the room to find twelve pair of eyes on me, and I knew what they were all thinking. My patience grew thinner.

“Dismissed. I’ll meet you at the training field in thirty.”

As I drove into the mountains, my sanctuary, I had found a sense of peace there in the secluded cabin with the lake view. It was nestled under the radar, and fully secured for obvious reasons.

Just as I had anticipated, my focus surged back to Jordan Mitchelle. She was the type of woman who could bring a man to his knees, and I knew I wouldn’t be immune to her charms if given the chance—just the opposite. But there was a reason I don’t date women like Jordan Mitchelle: they wanted the one thing I couldn’t give. Commitment.

Maybe I was jumping the gun. Perhaps I had nothing to worry about. It was just dinner, and she was sincerely grateful. I tried to bury any concerns I had and focus on the several days of downtime I had this week. The team worked in shifts, so there was perpetual coverage twenty-four seven. But with a team of twelve, plus myself, this allowed my men time to recharge. And as I opened my front door, I knew that this was the place where I would restore my humanity. My private side was hidden behind the watchful eyes of security, and now I could let down my guard and really unwind.

I received a text from my neighbor. He could drop Whiskey off, if I was going to be home. I eagerly answered yes. My beloved German shepherd, vile creature that he was, had brought me pure joy these past several years

 

Hearing the knock, I called out, “Come in!”

Whiskey made a dive for me, all slobbery and wet, his tail wagging happy to see me. “Hey, boy! Go sit.”

“Thank you, Mr. Carlson.”

“Always a pleasure. Bring him by any time, Steel.”

I had grown up knowing Mr. Carlson. My parents had owned this cabin for years, and when I lost them, I moved in immediately. Mr. Carlson’s wife had died recently, and he was thrilled to take on Whiskey, sometimes for weeks at a time.

Mr. Carlson knew what I did for a living, and he also held secrets he swore he’d take to the grave.

“Stay for dinner?” I asked. “Your favorite; ham and beans. I was about to bake some corn bread.”

“You’re cooking?”

I glanced over my shoulder as he took a seat at my kitchen island.

“I promise to keep the arsenic out this time.”

“There goes the flavor.”

Smart-ass.

Mr. Carlson loved to hear of my past assignments and the exciting missions. His curiosity was piqued by the thrill of danger, even when I was only giving him the PG version.

Special Forces was extreme in their own right, but it was the GWOT—Global War on Terrorism that held my interest. It was the most exciting, and the most intense. It had also been extremely dangerous and unpredictable. I lived for it.

“Where did they send you?” he asked, although I’d told these stories to him on more than one occasion

“Libya, Yemen, North Africa, and South East Asia, just to name a few. That’s when I received my martial arts black belt, a sixth Dan.”

The conversation easily triggered memories long forgotten. I had walls in place for a reason. One in particular, under this very roof. I had enlisted in the army to escape the thought of being shackled to a desk eight hours a day. I couldn’t tolerate that long-term. I knew I would suffocate, choking on the very surroundings that I was forced into.

No, I was made for this life instead. It was in my blood, and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. No one understood it, really—certainly not my family. Their idea of success boiled down to money. The almighty dollar ruled the world, and if I wanted to be a success, their path was the only way to achieve the American dream.

I had always been driven by some unknown force; at times wild an unpredictable. That’s certainly how my family saw it.

But, I’d chosen for myself I knew where I belonged. The adrenaline buzz, the anticipation, the training, and preparation all came into play with each mission. It fed my mind, body, and soul. It also fueled me to greater things. Jumping up the ranks, I grew up and became a man, a brother, and a leader. I had to admit, it was addicting,

It had its negative factors, too, but any successful soldier would own up to that. Years of banishing any trace of emotion catches up to you at some point. There had never been room for a life outside my profession. No room for love or having a normal family. It was a liability I couldn’t afford to indulge in, a real threat that potentially could be used against me. I knew safety within my unit, my team, and the men I stood beside, and that’s where it ended.

I also acquired skills no man in my position should be without. Every muscle in my body instinctively warned me of danger, like a sixth sense cautioning me of what’s to come. I could foresee the enemy’s next move with razor-sharp accuracy. It was a far more primal life, akin to a wild predator who lived life on the edge.

Then a series of events involving betrayal and costly mistakes ended the lives of my fellow soldiers. It ultimately ended my stint in the military, too. I still had respect and loyalty toward the service, and my country. But I wasn’t as naive as I once was.

My team was my family now, the only family I knew.

Palmer Steak house: seated at 6:45 p.m. The plan: to observe subject from afar, utilizing the opportunity to analyze the target while preoccupied with mundane thoughts, allowing me a split second of silent scrutiny.

Jesus, I’m fucked up.

I inhaled a much-needed breath and forced my heart rate to slow, reprimanding myself for my moment of insanity. Once the calm settled, I waited patiently and let my mind wander.

And then, in walks Jordan Mitchelle. She moved as if in slow motion, her face framed by strands of gold streaking through her long auburn waves as they skipped in rhythm with her gait. My gaze slid down her body; her curves were utterly sexy. Her confident, long-legged strides were striking, and I was her intended target.

Her glance met mine, causing a smile to spread across my face that I didn’t realized I owned. She returned it gracefully as my pulse quickened.

Her beauty was more defined as her approach grew closer with each intended step. I stood to greet her. Suddenly, without warnings he launched herself into my arms, now wrapped around me, her cheek resting on the nape of my neck. Her body pressed against mine, her softness against my hardness. I was frozen in place, my breath trapped in my chest. I jolted my brain to respond as my arms naturally snaked around her small waist.

Her warm breath was buried against my neck as she whispered, “Thank you.”

Then she slowly pulled away, but only enough for our eyes to meet for a brief, fleeting moment. I instantly recalled the night they tore me apart. Her intense amber eyes still held a mystical power. Her scent was drowning me, and I was going under quickly. I broke the connection first.

She took her seat as if nothing extraordinary had happened. I was left standing like a buffoon, finally taking my seat, completely flustered.

“You must get that all the time,” she says with a bit more shyness.

Clearly not.

“Sometimes, but it’s rare.”

“Good,” she says. “I like to stand out.”

The slight wiggle in her seat was adorable.

“You do, without even knowing it.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, and I studied her carefully. She intrigued me.

“So, Steel Archer, what do you do for fun?”

Fun?

“Clean my revolver?” She laughed, and now I was focusing on that full mouth. “Seriously, my time is well spent with my team of men, and the work we do.”

“That’s admirable, saving lives and putting the bad guys away. That’s important work.”

We’re interrupted when the waitress approaches to take our drink order.

“Water with lemon,” she says.

“Heineken for me.”

“Don’t drink?”

“Not tonight.”

Why not tonight? My need for liquid courage was evident. I wanted to know more, and as the room faded away, it felt like there was just us. She was definitely a game changer.

“So, work keeps you busy, any family?”

“There’s Whiskey.” I was surprised by my omission, but it’s followed by the slightest tug of emotion. “I would consider him my best bud.”

The beer arrives just in time, and I take a long pull of courage.

“German shepherd.”

“Ah, so compassion is your weakness.”

Nothing was my weakness, but in reality, she was right. Man’s best friend applied in this case. The mutt had tugged on my heart strings.

“I admit, this ole dog is something special.”

She looked at me with longing, and I desperately wanted to keep it there for as long as possible. I had underestimated her effects on me, and I felt slightly off-kilter, I knew social skills were required tonight, but I was revealing much more personal qualities than I’d intended.

Under normal circumstances, I was seen as a cold, indifferent man, walls firmly in place. But in this moment, they had vaporized instantly when she walked through that door.

After we ordered, there was a slight shift in the atmosphere, a moment of silence that wasn’t uncomfortable. Just the opposite: I felt an unspoken surge of energy, catching me intimately off guard, a rarity in itself.

“You saved my life,” she said, as an odd sensation came over me.

My heart cracked open just enough to allow her in. I swallowed slowly as the heat rose between us. It was far from innocent for me.

“My training kicked in. It was a natural instinct to react to a dangerous threat.”

“You’re being too modest. I saw how you reacted, remember? That type of courage comes from somewhere deep within you. You were absolutely fearless.”

“You’re giving me too much credit. A life was at stake, so I responded accordingly.”

Then the waitress stepped into our conversation. “Ready to order?”

It was a welcome distraction. All this hero talk was making me uncomfortable.

Jordan ordered the petite filet, and I settled on the T-bone. And once again, the edges blurred as I focused solely on her, whisked back to our solitude. It felt like we were letting the world disappear around us.

Enough about me.

“Tell me. How are you doing since the incident?”

“There was no way I was going to remain a victim,” she confessed. I felt her strength and how she conquered her fears and she seized power—especially over me. “That’s not my style. You can choose to let the darkness in, but I chose to live in the light.”

“I can see that.”

Our plates were sat in front of us. We ate, but the conversation never lapsed. In fact, it grew. We shared our stories: her work and mine, where we lived, how we both lost the family we had. It was easy—too easy. We finished with a cup of coffee, sharing a piece of caramel praline cheesecake.

“So good, it’s almost sinful,” she said between bites.

The sighs that escaped her lips were my undoing.

“My treat.” I quickly snagged the bill.

“I invited you. If there’s a next time, it will be your turn.”

An open invitation, clear as day. “Hand it over.”

“Well, thank you.” I wasn’t thrilled about her paying, but I let it slide. If I was lucky, I’d return the favor. “I’ll escort you out.”

Her combination of strength and vulnerability turned me on as much as her physical appearance. I walked her to her car, a black Mercedes which lit to life with the press of her fob.

Whatever shred of decency I had faded as I drank her in. Her eyes locked on mine, and my eyes darkened, like a starving man. Kiss her, the devil said. With utter confusion came another voice. Not yet, warned my conscience.

My silly fascination had become a force all its own. The light breeze was tossing her fiery red stands of hair across her face. I reached for a stray curl and rubbed the velvety texture between my fingers. It was soft to the touch, and the scent of something floral floated in the air, sweet and tempting.

I leaned in, pressing one hand against the car. The evening’s light had vanished, yet the amber color still gleamed in her eyes, under the stars. My gaze drifted lower as I ran my thumb over her plump bottom lip, the color of honey. Should I? I lowered my head slowly, barely grazing her lips with mine.

Her palms slid up my chest, twisting the fabric. Answering my question, my mouth fell on hers in a hungry kiss. My fingers griped her soft waves in my hand as I devoured her sweet mouth.

With a thrill simmering below, she was well aware of her effect on me. The need to barge ahead was calling me, I had her pinned and helpless. But I knew what control meant, and how to holster it.

I pulled back briefly, adding one last kiss. Yet, when I stepped back taking in the view. I witnessed a flash of regret. Then it disappeared instantly. When it came to relationships, I wasn’t in tune with the female psych’.

 

I opened her door and marveled at her gracefulness. As her dress rose high on her bare thigh, I couldn’t look away. Our gaze locked, and the sweetest smile appeared on her face. “Goodnight.”

Then the engine kicked over then slowly she rounded the corner and drove off into the night. I was left standing, knowing all the obstacles working against us.

Circumstances being what they were, I was unsure about everything. I intentionally avoided this type of situation for well-founded reasons. But with one touch, she had lured out my emotions, setting off warning signals I knew all too well.

I looked down and rubbed the back of my neck. I spent several moments reflecting, then came to the conclusion that I would be a fool if I let her go.

Approaching the Escalade, I pushed away the doubts, avoiding any lingering concerns, and decided I wanted to see where this could go. My heart skipped a beat at the thought, a stark contrast of what my life has looked like for the past several years.

My phone rang as I reached the highway. It was Flynn, so I picked up immediately.

“Steel, something’s happened.” His voice was grim. “You need to get to Norman Software. It’s Travis.”

“What’s happened?”

A sick feeling rolled through my gut as I anticipated the worst.

“He’s been killed.”

I heard his bold words, but I couldn’t get my mind to stop spinning long enough to process them. Shock rippled through me. Not once had any man gone down under my watch. In war, I anticipated casualties, but not now. Not here. Not with this team.

“What do we know?”

“You need to see for yourself.”

His ominous statement left me cold as my imagination spiraled downward. I sped away, pushing the limits of my Escalade as it roared under my command. I arrived to a screeching halt. My heart was beating hard and fast beneath my chest and sweat trailed down my spine as I reached the entrance where Flynn was waiting.

He locked the door behind me and escorted me to the elevator. Once we reached the bottom floor, we had to take the stairs to reach the basement. I sensed the silent fury within him.

I slowed to a steady pace when I saw my men’s hard expressions, all laced with horror and distress. As I tried to decipher what had happened, the men parted and I stepped into hell. The realization sent a shiver through my spine as I held back the roar of anger simmering inside of me.

Travis lay on the floor of the elevator, side by side with his maintenance cart. His throat had been slashed.

“Son of a bitch.” My breathing quickened at the sight.

“You haven’t contacted the authorities?

“Not yet. I want our team on it first.”

I could see the flashes of light from the camera behind me.

Focusing on the brutal weight of reality laid out before of my eyes, I didn’t have time to dwell on it, so my instincts took over.

“Give me the facts.” I found myself unable to look away from the gruesome scene. “Do we have a time line?”

“Recent. Two to four hours, if relying on rigor mortis. This particular elevator is reserved for staff only, and it’s the only one that reaches the basement. Whoever is responsible, knew this.”

“We have an obligation to inform the authorizes.”

I turned to face Flynn.

“Sir, there’s extenuating circumstances.”

“Such as?”

“His chest.”

I sunk to my knees and knelt beside Travis’s body. Then I opened his torn shirt. Carved on his chest was the number one. With a stone-cold expression, I looked over my shoulder at Flynn.

“This is personal.”

He shook his head in agreement.

Sounds faded, leaving only the buzzing in my ears. The hunter in me was fueled by revenge, a rage that couldn’t be pacified seethed. The killer would pay, I decided, as vengeance brewed calmly within me. Retaliation would be ugly, brutal, and ruthless. But, in the end, I would even the score.

“Gather the men.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Once you’ve collected enough evidence, call it in.”

I had no intention of handing this over entirely. I would put a special unit together. We had the evidence, and the crime photos. We would cooperate with the homicide unit fully, but this was my man, and I would ensure my own brand of justice.

“I want his killer found.”

The lethal edge in my voice didn’t go unnoticed. From savagery, justice would be born.