33. Big Bear
BIG BEAR
Jamie
Enzo and I had split up. He’d take out the sniper while I worked my way back down to the cabin, ending the lives of three additional Russians in my wake.
One stuck his head around a tree one too many times.
Another left a knee exposed, and I blew it to smithereens.
His buddy came to help, and I drilled them both.
No bullets chased after me, so I began to sprint the second I cleared the trees.
My breath came fast in white plumes. The silver glinted lake—frozen, silent, untouched to my left, the deck—also silent and ominous to my right.
If not for the bullets wedged into the wood, I’d swear this wasn’t a kill zone. I crouched at the railed steps in front of the deck, finger on the trigger, eyes scanning inside the house.
A chunk of ice exploded inches from my head. I bit out a curse and ducked, heart hammering in my chest.
Another report. This time, not the sharp clap of a sniper rifle. I guessed Enzo got our friend. I rushed up the steps and over the deck into the house .
My only focus—Jordyn.
She was still breathing.
Still fighting.
I refused to let Aleksandr take her. Not again.
But she moved between us—blocking my direct shot—as she drove a knife into his back.
He spun; eyes locked onto her. Gun lifted?—
I crashed through the threshold like a freight train, the business end of the rifle up before my feet cleared the doorway. I dropped sideways, pivoting to line up the shot. And fired.
BAM .
BAM .
Two shots—center mass. The Russian jerked back. His firearm slipped from his grasp, and he crumpled to his knees, planting face first on the wood floor. The butcher’s knife wedged into his spine.
Jordyn remained motionless. Eyes closed.
“Jordyn …” I approached her slowly. In my peripheral, Mam pressed a dishtowel against Brody’s chest. No. His shoulder. Blood was everywhere. But I had to shake my girl out of the shock first. No one should ever live like that. Stuck in purgatory.
“Jordyn, look at me.” I came in front of her.
Chest heaving with each uneven breath, wild-eyed, she surrendered to a panic attack.
“You’re okay—you’re okay, JorJor. Look at me.
” My hand rested on her chest. The powerful, erratic drum of her heart against my palm nearly undid me.
Jordyn flinched, then squeezed my hand, holding me against her.
My other hand rubbed at the bleeding gash over my brow.
The sweat. Not from exertion but the pure fury I’d restrained long enough for the kill shot.
Her voice cracked. “Jamie …”
Eyes closed, she let herself sink into my arms.
Outside, the faint wail of sirens broke through the trees.
Shoot . I had some explaining to do. Before then, something else called to me.
I picked Jordyn up, planting her on the edge of the counter.
I leaned in, forehead brushing hers. I kissed her.
A soft, hungry kiss with unspoken words—regret that this would end in less than a second.
Longing, protection. A promise of forever love.
My hands went into her thick hair. Jordyn’s fingers clutched my shirt like she might crumple into an anxious fit the second my lips left hers.
I kissed her harder. Lost myself in this moment. When we broke, my brain starved for oxygen, but my heart starved for more. My forehead rested against hers. For a nanosecond longer, we had peace.
Then, a police officer shouted over the bullhorn for everyone to exit the house, hands up. Proper protocol. Made sense.
Jordyn shook her head. “Don’t go.”
Mam said, “I’ll?—”
“Nae.” I pressed my lips to Jordyn’s once more. “I’ve got this.”
Leaning heavily on the counter, Brody asked through clenched teeth, “What will you tell them, Jamie?” He now held the towel to stanch the bleeding.
“I’ve just got my son back.” Mam started after me. “You have to be a man. But let me?—”
“This is how things will go. I plan to inform law enforcement that I’m a member of the FBI Fly Team. That I was activated as an embedded asset by my former CO—Colonel Smith.”
“Fly Team?” Jordyn murmured.
“It’s the fed’s small group of counterterrorist investigators. Some of them are ex-special forces like me. I called Smith when we—”I glanced at Jordyn—“sat at that homeless encampment in LA, waiting for the cover of dark. He’s got a friend. A Fed who’ll vouch for me and Lorenzo.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Enzo said, stepping into the living room. “I was about to start sweating bullets after you told me to add the stiff’s body to the pile of Russians. ”
“The stiff?” Mam asked.
“Rocket. Long story short, he didn’t think with his brain last night.”
“Must’ve already had this on your list,” Jordyn added, shaking her head.
“ COME OUT!” Another order came from the bullhorn.
“We got time before Big Bear PD requests SWAT. But let’s make this quick.
As far as the police need to know, Chelomey made me.
Chelomey blew my cover when he came to my family’s vacation home.
So, the Feds will vouch for me and Ferri.
They’ve wanted Chelomey’s head on a platter.
None of their agents could get close enough to the Bratva to arrest him the right way.
That’s the story. The rest of you are just civilians. ”
Brody snorted through the pain. “Aye. I’m just a civilian who almost got his beard blown off. And Justice is gonna bite me head off for getting shot. Thanks a lot.”
Yesterday, it took hours for Dad and the rest of my brothers to breach all the yellow tape the chief of police placed around the cabin.
The chief had a vein ticking from his head when I explained the Feds had operated in his backyard without prior authorization.
He’d viewed the scene while waiting for my CO’s guy from the Feds to arrive.
Later in the evening, Jordyn and I checked into a hotel so the authorities could process the cabin, my family headed down the hill—taking my precious Rebel with them as Camdyn had shared too many selfies with himself and the dog.
All my nieces and nephews wanted to nurse Rebel back to health.
To make matters worse, my shy Rottie was now a social media star. I was gonna slug Rory .
Enzo disappeared sometime in the night, but I’d given him explicit orders to meet at my family’s house today for a barbecue.
Now Jordyn and I had stopped at a breakfast joint tucked away in Lakewood. An understated restaurant in the small town near Long Beach.
I approached the cashier to clear out the tab.
As I signed the receipt, I added extra to the tip.
While we were eating, the server had given us mimosas that she hadn’t put on the tab.
She’d said she loved “BWWM love.” Whatever that meant.
Jordyn winked with her but left me in the dark. Women stuff , I guess ?
I glanced at my watch—10:20 a.m. We’d make it to my parents’ house too soon.
Yesterday was the last day of school before the holidays for all my nieces and nephews.
Maybe I’d take Jordyn to the pier and rent beach bikes for the day?
Get her prepared to meet the rest of Clan MacKenzie.
My cousins would be there, too, no doubt.
I’d marry Jordyn tonight like I promised. That was if she’d have me.
I glanced back at the table. Jordyn had stood but grabbed her Orange Creamsicle mimosa and downed it.
She smirked. “I have whipped cream on my face.”
“Nae.” I reached over and licked the creamy splotch from the cute smile crease at the side of her mouth. And I vowed that the carefree laugh she let out would be the only laughter allowed in the life we were about to make for ourselves.
Hand in hand, we stepped into the sunlight. As we started through the small lot, Jordyn looked at me, brow furrowed.
She let go of my hand and pushed me.
“What’s that for?” With a staggered two-step, I pretended that she had the skills to carry out such a bold act.
“I smell mango. You used my hair grease!”
Here we were in the parking lot of the best, underrated restaurant ever, and she was arguing over hair grease.
A seagull snipped a french fry in the parking space between us as I folded my arms. “ I figured since you chose hair stuff over cramming more clothes into your backpack while we fled Santa Barbara, that?—”
“No. Not hair stuff. Hair grease. My hair grease.” She stepped toward me. The spark in her eyes ruined what could have been a successful intimidation tactic.
“Okay, I own it. Do you want to hear my explanation?” I reached over to pat the top of her head.
Jordyn sidestepped me in the center of the two-row lot. “Alright, go ahead.”
“After shampooing the dye out of my hair five times, it still felt brittle. So yes, I used your mango-scented hair grease. Forgive me?”
“Alright, because I love you, we”—she rose onto her tippy toes, and I met her halfway in a kiss that left her moaning—“can share my mango butter hair grease. Touch my edge control, we’ll have a problem.”
Control what edge ? “I don’t even know what that means.” I fished in my jeans pocket for keys. “But I don’t mind problems. I like when you have, what do you call it an atti-tude?”
“?‘Tude. You’re in for a cultural awakening, big guy.” She laughed, sashaying to Camdyn’s F250 that I’d be borrowing for a while.
Standing there, watching her, a chuckle rode through my abdomen. I followed her, climbing behind the wheel just as she closed the passenger door. I felt good.
So good.
Too good .
The sunlight seemed to dance around us. I tried to slip the key into the ignition. I’d skip this entire step with a keyless ignition. Four attempts? C’mon . Six before it slid in home. Nobody had to know.
“You need help, Jamie?” Laughter permeated the air.
Drat . Jordyn knew .
“Jor … Jor …” My voice sounded off. Slow. I rested my hand on the wheel instead of pulling into reverse. My foot felt too heavy to lift off the brake. “Do you feel good?”
Her fingers massaged her temple. “Yeah. Like I’ve been given happy … drugs.”
“Me … too.” I struggled to shake the warm fuzzies from my head. My vision warped at the edges like summer heat on asphalt. I rubbed the sides of my fists into my eyes. No . This wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be happening.
The driver’s side door opened. My heart raced in slow motion. From my peripheral, a man reached in from my side, and another man opened Jordyn’s door. Lifted her limp body.
“Our drinks,” I muttered.
“ Dah .” The one closer to me affirmed in Russian. “Nighty, night.”
“I told you to give this dude another minute. He’s bigger than the gerl ,” Jordyn’s captor snapped.
“The waitress gave him more.”
“ Khoroshiy, khoroshiy.”
Aware of some Russian, I figured the guy closer to me had said good , good to his partner.
Had Chelomey hired others?