Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Trooper
When I dropped off Shea at work, I waited until she was safely inside and indicated the coast was clear. Then I directed a quick salute of appreciation in Viper’s direction, tucked in a back corner of the parking lot. He nodded, returning my acknowledgment.
Maintaining this level of protection for an extended period of time was a lot to ask of my club, and I was well aware of that. They wouldn’t raise a fuss or complain though. Because that’s what you do for your brothers. We’re family and we protect our own.
Until that damn butterfly showed up on Shea’s windshield. Maybe it was a fluke, I reasoned. In early June, bugs would get stuck on her windshield all the time. That was nothing unusual.
But I couldn’t quiet the nagging voice of doubt in the back of my mind.
We needed to do more. For Shea’s sake. And that’s why I called in a favor.
Iron Forge Security Agency was founded by one of our members, Gil “Nitro” Mullins, as a part-time gig on the side. For a while, he didn’t even have an office, operating out of his private home instead. He started it for women who needed protection and couldn’t find it anywhere else.
The agency expanded into an old warehouse on the outskirts of town. Nitro got married and started having kids, so he had his hands full and hired a few employees to run the place for him.
A few of my ex-military buddies were on the payroll now. Ethan "Charger" Caldwell agreed to meet me within the hour after I explained the situation with Shea.
When I pulled into the gravel lot and parked outside the rusted warehouse, Ethan stepped out to greet me. One of his rescue dogs shadowed at his heels—a senior malinois with a gray muzzle and a limp in his right foreleg.
“It’s good to see you, soldier,” Ethan said.
His dog circled around me, sniffing my boots. I reached down to scratch his ear but he shied away.
“Here.” Ethan dug in his pocket and tossed a small dog treat to me. “Ares doesn’t like most people. He’s deaf in one ear, too, and it tends to make him extra skittish. But he loves some duck liver.”
Crouching down, I held out my palm and offered the treat. Ares eyed me warily, then slowly approached and lapped at my palm. He nuzzled against me for more, pushing into my chest with insistence. I laughed and rubbed his ears.
“Is he a new addition to the family?” I asked.
Ethan nodded and crossed his arms, watching us.
“I picked him up two weeks ago, so he’s still settling in. He used to be part of the K-9 unit with Denver police, but he’s getting old. Arthritis is slowing him down. So, he’s retired now and living out the rest of his days with me.”
Ares wagged his tail and rested his chin on my knee.
Ethan was a dog-handler in the military.
When he got out, he devoted his free time to rescuing working dogs, honoring their years of service.
There was always a dog or two at his heels everywhere he went, and I knew he had at least a dozen more at his home in the mountains.
“Come in, have a seat,” Ethan said. “There’s fresh coffee. I ran a background check on that guy you told me about, Kyle Ritter.”
“Any hits?” I asked.
He arched an eyebrow and gestured to the warehouse.
“Let’s just say it’s not good news.”
Swearing under my breath, I followed him inside.
The warehouse’s interior was well-lit, open, and spacious. Off to my left was a homey sitting area for guests, with a couch, a few chairs, and a throw rug. There was a side table with snacks and drinks, a cart with games and toys for kids, and a small television set.
On the opposite side of the warehouse, a partition had been raised. Ethan led me past it and into an office setting, with four desks, a wall of computer monitors, and a locked cage full of gear and weapons.
Once we were settled at Ethan’s desk with coffee, he pulled up a file folder and held it out to me.
“Kyle Ritter has a history of stalking and harassing women for over a decade, starting at eighteen years old. I try not to make assumptions, but I’ve seen enough men like this to take an educated guess that these are only the documented reports. There’s likely more that we don’t know about.”
I flipped through the file, feeling queasy.
“Is he violent?” I asked.
Ethan scrubbed a hand over his mouth, weighing his answer.
“I found no evidence to suggest he is. But that doesn’t mean anything. Victims can be silenced. Reports can be lost, destroyed, or never filed in the first place.”
I clenched my teeth, resisting the urge to jump on my bike and race back to Shea immediately.
“What’s your professional opinion?” I asked.
Ethan leaned back in his chair, reaching out to Ares who sat beside him like a sentinel. He threaded his fingers through Ares’ fur, adjusting his collar.
“My professional opinion is the same as your gut instinct. Ritter means trouble. But you’re not asking this just for shits and giggles. Did he lock onto someone you care about?”
I closed the file and handed it back to him.
“Yeah, she’s…”
A friend would have been my answer before.
But now…I found myself on the verge of saying something else.
“She’s my girl,” I said softly.
Fuck. Shea is my girl. The love of my life.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Ethan muttered with a low whistle. “I had a running bet with the boys that you would be the last bachelor standing among us. Never could have guessed that you would be the one to fall first.”
“I’m not sure she feels the same way about me though,” I replied.
Ethan winced in sympathy.
“That’s rough. So, you’re really thinking about the whole package deal with this woman? Getting married, having a couple kids? Changing diapers and soccer practice every Saturday morning? PTA meetings? All that jazz?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, shaking my head. “I just…want her in my life. Whatever that might look like. I’ll take it. As long as it means waking up to her by my side every day.”
Ethan nodded and gave Ares a treat, then commanded him to lay down.
“What does your brother have to say? Now that he got hitched, I imagine he would have a few insights.”
I hesitated, fiddling with a pen on Ethan’s desk. My brother had enough on his plate already. Especially if his wife was pregnant with their second child. I didn’t need to burden him with this.
“Don’t let her slip through your fingers, buddy,” Ethan said quietly. “I made that mistake myself, and I’ve regretted it ever since. If you have a chance at happiness, you deserve that, and you better fight for your motherfucking life to keep her.”
A beat of silence fell over the room. When Ethan joined the military, he had a falling out with his high school sweetheart.
They used to be so solid, so deeply in love that it seemed nothing would shake them.
Then he found out that she married someone else.
And it nearly broke him. He never really got over her, dedicating himself to work instead.
He cleared his throat and gestured to his desk.
“We should discuss protection. And surveillance.”
I straightened in my chair, eager to have a task to focus on.
“For the past two weeks, I’ve had one of my club brothers tailing her everywhere she goes.”
Ethan hummed in thought.
“That’s fine for now, but I recommend stronger measures. I’ll call Casper and Bulldog in. They should be free. Everyone else is on assignment, or out of town. Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to keep your girl safe.”
Nearly two hours later, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders and I could breathe a little easier. On more than one occasion, I had trusted these soldiers with my life. They wouldn’t let me down this time either.
Returning to my bike, I called Shea and relayed the good news. Although I skipped the part about Ritter’s history of stalking. She didn’t need to know that when she was rattled enough as it was.
“You’re going through a lot of trouble for me, Theo,” Shea said, her voice low and soft.
“Does that surprise you?”
She made a non-committal noise. The drone of conversation echoed in the background on the phone, punctuated by Raine’s laughter.
“I guess I’m just not used to it,” Shea admitted at last.
A gust of wind blasted against me. I stumbled back a few steps to catch my balance and glanced up.
Dark clouds roiled on the horizon, followed by a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder.
Riding a motorcycle in a storm was not a pleasant experience.
I could wait it out here at the agency, or I could hit the road and race back to the clubhouse before the rain started.
“Your dad was an asshole, Shea,” I said. “But I’m not him.”
“And your parents chose to marry the wrong person,” she countered without missing a beat. “But that doesn’t mean you will do the same.”
“We’re not talking about me right now,” I protested.
“If you’re going to drag me into the spotlight and prod at my goddamn abandonment issues, I’m taking you with me. You’re just as fucked up as I am.”
I breathed a faint laugh.
“You don’t pull any punches, do you?”
“Nope,” she replied lightly. “That’s what you love about me.”
I raised my eyebrows and my heart skipped a beat.
“Oh, shit,” Shea muttered. “I just realized what that sounded like.”
I chuckled, climbing onto my bike as the first fat drops of rain began to fall from the sky.
“For the record, you’re not wrong.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said.
I paused, turning my face into the oncoming storm. The rain was cool against my skin and the wind tugged at my clothes.
“I’m scared, too, Shea,” I said. “I’ve never…pictured a future with anyone else before. Just you. I know we’re both a nightmare when it comes to commitment. But I’m stubborn and you’re stubborn. And if we really want this, I fully believe we can find a way to make it happen.”
Shea said nothing for so long that I thought the call might have dropped off. The wind picked up speed, howling through a patch of nearby pine trees.
“Buy me a drink tonight,” she replied. “Make it something strong. Then we’ll talk.”