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  Secured Wishes

  Book 3: Secured Heart series

  By

  Charity Parkerson

  Copyright Charity Parkerson © 2011

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  The scanning, uploading, and distributing of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Brief passages may be quoted for review purposes if credit is given to the copyright holder. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  --Warning: This book contains graphic depictions of sexual activity including oral sex and masturbation. It is intended for mature audiences not offended by explicit representations of sexual activity between consenting adults.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2011 Charity Parkerson

  Editor: Dionne Lister

  Photographer: pawelsierakowski

  CHAPTER ONE

  October

  An attack on American soil; it was what Jacob worked so hard to avoid. The fact that a bomb exploded outside the same building his sister was working in at the time was a grim reminder of the purpose his team served. Even though he didn’t exactly work for the U.S. Government, he still swore an oath to protect the American people against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and it was a never-ending battle. The war on terrorism was much akin to the war on drugs: if you plucked a drug dealer off the streets, three more would grow in its place; a terrorist was the same. He heard a few different presidents wax poetic about stamping out terrorism over the years, but Jacob knew the truth: that day would never come. The best anyone could hope for were people like him remaining vigilant and willing to do whatever it took.

  It was over a year ago that the F.B.I. headquarters exploded in Abernathy Texas, courtesy of a homemade car bomb. In that time, his sister, Genie, seemed to recover nicely even though he knew she’d never forget; neither would he.

  Jacob adjusted his earpiece beneath the black ski mask that protected his identity.

  “Team one in position,” he said quietly.

  “Team two in position,” was the immediate response.

  All they could do now was wait. A tip from a reliable source and months of planning led them to this dark alleyway. Seventy-five people were massacred inside a local church during Sunday morning services three months earlier and they were so close to having the men responsible that he could taste it. All the chatter indicated another plot in the works, and the level of desperation they all felt was off the charts. The source they were dealing with led them to believe that one of the buildings on this street housed the headquarters to one of the largest terrorist groups active inside the country, and supposedly there was a meeting of the minds scheduled for tonight.

  The organization that Jacob worked for was Safe Haven, a private company in charge of doing things that even the blackest of ops could not, but it took a lot of funds to pull it off. Fortunately, there were lots of rich people out there spending their evenings at fundraisers, paying hundreds of dollars for a plate of food for charities such as the keep America safe project, or whatever sounded good and patriotic. Those people never realized or even cared that their money was funding straight up killers such as him. The best part of working outside the confines of the government was the lack of rules. In his world, there was no Geneva Convention and no water-boarding would be showing up on the news. If you were a bad guy, you were dead, and that was that.

  “Are you still working?”

  Gracie glanced up at Mary’s question before sneaking a peek at the clock. She had a tendency to lose track of time when she began a new creation. If she didn’t finish her sketch before leaving tonight, she’d lay awake all night plotting and planning her next stroke and questioning her amount of detail.

  Mary worked as her assistant a couple of hours a day plus she rented the apartment above her studio, and Gracie was rather attached to the girl. Since Gracie was raised in an orphanage, she didn’t have a family to check in on her and no one expecting her home at night. At twenty-six years of age, it was a fate she had come to accept, and, even though Mary was seven years younger than her, she made it her personal mission to watch out for Gracie’s health and fussed when she overworked.

  “I’m leaving in a minute. Why are you still up?”

  Mary smiled, showing a set of perfect white teeth. “I went on a date tonight, and I saw your light was still on as I walked past.”

  “Ooh a date. Did you have fun?”

  Gracie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a date. What did people even do nowadays?

  “It was okay. We went to dinner and the movies, but he was wearing penny loafers, penny loafers for goodness sake.”

  “Imagine that,” Gracie said, trying to sound understanding, after all, Mary was her friend, but she did wonder why his shoe type bore any weight to the success of the date. Finally, she was unable to withstand her curiosity any longer. She asked, “What’s wrong with penny loafers?”

  “Well, when he asked me out he said we were going for pizza so I wore a t-shirt and tennis shoes, but when I met him at the pizza parlor he was wearing penny loafers and a sweater vest, which left me looking like a fool because he was dressed so nice. Instead of his date, I felt like I was a poor relation he was taking to dinner.”

  Gracie tapped her chin thoughtfully. It was more likely that the guy was super thrilled at the idea of staring at Mary’s boobs all night in her tight t-shirt, but Gracie couldn’t very well say that so instead she said; “Did you ever think he might have felt awkward all night too because he was trying to look nice for you and ended up being overdressed?”

  “Oh, I never looked at it like that.” Mary was such a good-hearted person that Gracie knew she’d call him later tonight to thank him again for dinner now that Gracie reminded her about putting herself in other peoples’ shoes, whether they were penny loafers or tennis shoes. Mary and Gracie kept a good working relationship; Mary made sure Gracie didn’t work herself to death and Gracie made sure Mary didn’t let her beauty overcome her personality.

  Mary possessed more than her fair share of everything in life; looks, brains, and a loving family. If Gracie were a different kind of woman, she’d have to hate Mary on principal alone, but Mary was just too damn nice to hate.

  “Come on, Gracie. Let me walk you out to your car.”

  Gracie rolled her eyes. “And then who will walk you back inside?”

  “It’s only ten steps back inside the building.”

  “Then its only ten steps out to my car,” Gracie countered, laughing.

  “Yes, but then you have to stand there long enough to get the car unlocked and I don’t w
ant you to be out there alone for that long, so I’ll go out with you, and then once you get inside your car you can sit there with your doors locked and watch me walk back inside. How about that?”

  “That sounds like a solid plan, so let’s do it.”

  Gracie stood, wincing at the tightness of the muscles in her back, but she managed to get her supplies put away and gathered up her purse in record time.

  Side by side, they walked through the back door to the alley where Gracie’s car was parked. It was close to midnight and it was a pitch-black night without a hint of moon or stars to alleviate the darkness. Gracie was almost at her car door when a row of headlights began filing down the alleyway, blocking her way. She stepped backwards onto the sidewalk, wondering what she should do, when a movement behind her caught her attention. When she turned her head, she spotted several different men dressed from head to toe in black SWAT gear hiding in the shadows. She knew then that she just stepped out into some shit, but she didn’t know what to do, so she and Mary froze, waiting for a signal to either run or duck.

  The whole thing was a setup, a fuck up from the very beginning. They were the ones being targeted and their cover was already blown. The two women stepped into the alley changing the entire game plan. The first woman’s long, dark hair fell in waves down her back, and she bore a pixie like form. The second woman’s shoulder length red hair stood out in a riot of curls around her head. They looked as surprised to see Jacob as he was to see them, and they immediately stopped at the sight of his team members. Even the air seemed to hold its breath as they stared at one another. Then the world exploded into a hail of gunfire. The once quiet back alley now resembled a warzone—even the air smelled the same as it did when he fought in Burundi.

  The dark-haired woman proved to be the smarter of the two, as she quickly dropped to the ground, recognizing there was no place to run. Her friend wasn’t as smart or as quick. She jerked in surprise as the first bullets entered her body, and time seemed to freeze as she slowly melted to the ground, landing solidly on top of the other woman, her body protecting her friend from further harm.

  “Everybody fall back and regroup. We’re heading underground. Hit the tunnels. I repeat hit the tunnels.”

  The broken words echoed through Jacob’s earpiece and he fired off a few more rounds before running at a crouch to the women’s side. A burning sensation tore through his arm and he knew immediately that he was hit. He had never allowed such a thing to slow him down before tonight, and he wasn’t about to start now. He rolled the dead woman’s body away and snatched up the one that was still breathing. She was covered in so much blood it was impossible to tell if she was injured in any way. He cradled her to his chest just in case she was wounded. He didn’t want to jar her or make any injuries worse. However, nothing was worse than dead, and that’s exactly what she’d be if he didn’t move his ass now.

  Their dark clothing served its purpose well, helping them to disappear into the night. Caleb covered their rear, making sure they weren’t followed. Once he was sure there was no one on their tail, he opened the hatch, accessing a series of underground tunnels that led to the team’s many safe rooms. They also came out at different areas around town, making for an easy escape. It had taken years for Safe Haven to develop this complex system: a building was easy to find and not without weaknesses. While a person could locate the tunnel system, they could also just as easily be stuck wandering them for years without finding a thing. Each member of the team knew what to do should things fall apart the way they did tonight. When they reached the halfway point, they’d split up, making it harder for them to be tracked, and they would meet back at a later time once it was deemed safe. At the first check-point, Caleb slid away a section of wall before disappearing behind it. The wall slid back into place seamlessly, hiding his escape. Jacob was the next to file out, leaving him alone with the woman. He kept up a steady pace, barely registering the wound across his arm or the extra weight he toted. At his touch, another section of the wall slid away revealing a safe room. Each safe room came fully equipped and well stocked for a long stay. Jacob needed to check in and find out what the fuck was happening out there, but first he needed to make sure the woman wasn’t bleeding to death in his arms.

  ***

  Wire covered lights that hung from a concrete ceiling were the only part of the tunnels that registered in Gracie’s fog-filled brain. She tried to count them as they flew past, in attempt to cling to reality, but no matter how hard she blinked her eyes they refused to focus. The man who carried her in his arms was wearing black SWAT gear, and not an inch of his skin was showing. Finally, he stopped. She tried even harder to bring the world into focus but one section of her brain recognized that something horrible lurked on the other side of her shock. She continued to shy away from acknowledging it.

  “Sorry about this, but I need to check you for injuries.”

  His voice sounded soothing as he laid her gently on the floor and started stripping her out of her clothes. She barely registered the cold air as it hit her skin. She recognized she should be feeling embarrassed, or even outraged, but not a single feeling could penetrate her mind. He reached up, pulling his ski mask over his head. Then the sound of ripping Velcro rent the air as he tugged off a bulletproof vest. His eyes appeared wonderfully sweet, and she focused on their amber color, as if she were dangling from a lifeline.

  “I’m Jacob Cook. Do you know your name?”

  “It’s Gracie St. John,” she forced out the whispered words, and he nodded.

  “Gracie, you didn’t take any direct hits but you’ve been grazed twice. It doesn’t appear to need stitches—it’s more of a severe burn mark. I realize you’re in shock and probably won’t be able to stand, but I need to get this blood off of you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He left the room and she started to scream for him not to leave her, but he was back as quickly as he left. He lifted her nude body into his arms and carried her into the bathroom where he had turned on the shower earlier. Then, in a move she wasn’t expecting, he stepped into the shower with her in his arms—fully dressed in combat boots and all. He tilted the water so she got the majority of the stream. He slid her feet to the floor while holding her tightly to him with one arm. With the other hand, he squirted some body-wash onto her and began scrubbing off the dried blood. She gasped out loud when he washed her wounds, but other than that, she stayed quiet and still for his ministrations. He massaged shampoo into her hair, using his fingers to remove any tangles. She began shaking, her teeth chattering with the violence of it; even though the steam rolling through the room told her brain the water was hot, her skin felt chilled.

  “It’s a side effect from the shock,” he told her, making her feel as if he were reading her mind. “It’ll wear off in a few minutes.”

  Jerking a towel from the nearby rod, he dried her before wrapping the towel around her hair. Grabbing another dry towel, he enfolded her in it, lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. After he tucked the covers tightly around her body, she relaxed slightly and imagined this was what it felt like to be wrapped in a cocoon. Buried deep beneath the covers, she finally began to warm up. She looked around. The large underground area reminded her of a studio apartment because, with the exception of the bathroom, it was one large room comprising of an all-in-one bedroom and kitchen. The only furnishings were a king sized bed and a small table with two chairs. Jacob sat on the edge of one of the chairs, trying to unlace his boots. Finally he managed to tug loose the wet laces. Toeing them off, he peeled away his wet socks before trying, without much success, to remove his shirt.

  She watched him struggle for a moment before she realized his problem. He’d been shot.

  She gingerly slid from the bed, half expecting her legs to collapse from underneath her, but she remained upright. Tucked the towel more firmly to her body, she made her way over to him. He watched her approach without a word, and when she motioned for him to show her the wound
, he did so without argument.

  “Do you have a first aid kit?”

  He nodded towards the bathroom. “In there, under the sink.”

  Gracie followed his directions finding the first aid kit easily, and she dug around until she found a pair of scissors. Back at his side, she cut the shirt away until his upper body was bare and she was able to start dressing the wound. It looked as if the bullet sliced his arm open, leaving behind a deep gash.

  “It probably needs stitches but there are these butterfly thingies in here if you want to try those instead.”

  He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, and she stuck a couple of them across the wound after pulling it tight. She was no expert in dealing with serious cuts so she wasn’t sure she was doing it right, but he didn’t correct her or utter a word of complaint.

  Her eyes were a light green and possibly the most beautiful thing he could ever remember seeing. That’s what he concentrated on while she tugged and swiped at his arm. It hurt like a motherfucker now that the adrenaline was wearing off, but he refused to flinch away from her touch.

  “I’m sorry about your friend,” he said in order to distract himself.

  Gracie blinked rapidly as if she were holding back tears. It was strange that she hadn’t uttered a word of complaint when he stripped her naked, but she didn’t want him to see her cry as if it would leave her too exposed.

  “What will happen to her body? I don’t like thinking about her lying out there all night.”

  “That won’t happen,” he reassured her. “My people will have already reported it as a drive by shooting. She’ll be found quickly.”

  “A drive by shooting,” she repeated woodenly. “But that’s not true.”

  “What is the truth, Ms. St. John?”

  She threw her hands up, nearly losing her towel in the process and almost poking his eye out. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

  Instead of answering her question, he asked. “How long do you think it will take those men to find out who you are? How long do you think it will take them to wonder if you’ve seen their faces or our safe house?” he said, gesturing to the room at large. Then, shoving his face close to hers, he added. “Or if you’ve seen my face?”