Hot SEALs: SEALed Fate (Kindle Worlds) (Deep Six Security #0) (12 page)

Like the fact she wasn’t wearing the vest he’d given her.

“Where’s your vest?” Jax demanded, moving to the first stair to block her exit.

Fallon’s eyes widened and she wrinkled her nose, but with a sigh spun on the stairs.  The guys whistled again, and Jax growled at them over his shoulder. 

“Just get her in the van and I’ll get it,” he said sharply, glaring at her as he shot past her to hustle up the stairs.  Fallon Sharpe was going to wear that damned thing if he had to glue it on her beautiful body.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Fallon breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind Jaxson and she was inside the federal courthouse.  He pushed her with his hand at the small of her back, and she walked down the long hallway toward the door to her chambers at the end.  After they’d passed three thick-necked, stiff-backed and stone-faced guys in nondescript black suits with wires hanging out of their ears who wouldn’t make eye contact, Fallon asked, “Is the men-in-black convention being held here today?  Did I miss the memo?”

Jaxson didn’t laugh.  “I asked the FBI agent I spoke with this morning for additional coverage inside the building.”

“Good to know,” she said, blowing out a breath that did nothing to settle her nerves.  Jaxson was so damned serious and uptight he was
making
her nervous.  But not nearly as nervous as seeing the huge weapons Chris and Rick grabbed when Jaxson stopped the black
armored
van they rode in a few blocks from the courthouse to let them out.  They looked ready for a war, acted as if one was imminent, and Fallon was more scared than she’d ever been during this whole ordeal.

She reached the door to her chambers, turned the knob and walked inside.  The leather and wood scent comforted her, as did the soft feel of her wool robe as she slid into it.  She didn’t have to remove her suit jacket, because she hadn’t been able to fit it on again over the bulky vest that Jaxson made her put on inside the van.  She also didn’t try to remove it, because she knew he wasn’t going to let her.  Her comfort was not his concern, her safety was.  That is what Jaxson told her very quickly when she griped about how uncomfortable the
body armor
was.

When she turned to go to her desk, he was right there blocking her. “Would you please give me a little breathing room?” she asked, pushing against his chest.

“I want you to
remain
breathing so I’m your shadow, babycakes.”

Fallon spun at the corner of her desk to put her hands on her hips. “Do
not
call me—” she started, but her door opened and her baliff’s shoulders filled the doorway from jamb to jamb.

Lawrence Bolton, the giant chocolate teddy bear who’d worked with her for two years smiled.  “Looks like we have the day off today, Judge Sharpe.  The clerk just notified me that your trial today has been canceled.”

“
Canceled
?” Fallon repeated, the hair at the back of her neck raising along with her anger.  She was about tired of the yo-yo game that shouldn’t be happening with a
regular
case that had been impartially assigned to
her
bench.  There was
zero
reason for them to recuse her involuntarily.

“Yes, ma’am.  She said something about a meeting of judges to talk about the case,” he replied with a shrug, before he backed out of the office and closed the door.

Well, this judge hadn’t been notified of that meeting, and Fallon was going to find out why from the horse’s mouth.  The chief judge owed her explanations, or the en banc panel he’d assembled did more likely.  Moving back around her desk, Fallon flew past Jaxson to reach for the doorknob but he grabbed her arm.

“Let’s just leave.  This is for the best,” he said gruffly.

For the best? 
Tingles pricked at the base of her neck as Fallon spun to stare into Jaxson’s eyes, speechless.  Then her mind clicked through other things he’d said to her just this morning that left her with a similar feeling. 
I’ll give you everything I have if you change your mind about going to the courthouse today.
And another piece fit into place
.
I thought about it and it might be better if you bow out.  Let your father handle it and the FBI will only have more evidence to nail him. 
But he couldn’t convince her to agree so the final piece fit perfectly into place then.
I asked the FBI agent I spoke with this morning for additional coverage inside the building.
And planted the other seed in the agent’s head which led them and the chief judge to this decision
. 

A gavel slammed inside her skull and caused her brain to throb.  The guilty look on Jaxson’s face when it finally came into focus again said she was right.

“You did this,” Fallon accused, pointing her finger at him. 

Jaxson’s jaw tightened, and a muscle worked in his cheek but he didn’t deny it. 

Feeling weak in her knees and sick at heart, Fallon walked back over to her desk and sat down behind it.  She knew now there was no reason to see the chief judge, the clerk or anyone else.  The FBI had requested this change, because Jaxson Thomas suggested it to them.

She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, then laced her fingers together to stop the shaking as she placed her hands on her desk to pin him with her eyes. 

“Well, Mr. Thomas, it appears you’ve connived your way right out of an
assignment
.”  And Fallon’s circle of trust.  “Your services are no longer needed here, so you’re
fired
.”  She would never be able to trust this man again, even if she loved him.

“You
can’t
fire me,” Jaxson growled, his dark eyebrows crashing down over his eyes as he charged toward her desk, but Fallon held up her hand.  “You’re not safe until this case is over.”

“Oh, but I
can
,” she argued, glaring at him. “Because of your interference in my business, I am as safe now as I am every day at this facility, so I no longer need protection.  Your
mission
is done here, Mr.
Decorated
SEAL.”

Jaxson moved in closer to slam his hands down on her desk.  “Regardless of whether you want me here or not, I’m staying to protect you until it’s over,” he said flatly.

Fallon laughed harshly. “Then you’d be considered a stalker wouldn’t you, Mr. Thomas?  The emotion in her throat shot up to her eyes and she dragged them to her inbox where she reached for the first file on the top of the huge stack at the corner of her desk. “I can assure you there are laws against that in this state and I will definitely prosecute if I see you again.  Do yourself a favor, go back to Virginia and take your SEAL buddies with you.”

A rumble preceded a roar, as Jaxson reached across the desk to grab her wrist in a steely grip.  “You still need protection, dammit!”

Fallon’s smiled tightly, as she pulled her hand back. “Even if I do still need protection, I no longer trust
you
with my best interest—so regardless, you’re fired.”  She pushed her chair back from the heat of his anger, and reached behind her on the credenza for a law book she had no use for right then.  What she was really doing was hiding the fact that her eyes were filled to overflowing because her heart lay in a million pieces inside her chest. 

Without turning around, she said, “
Leave
, Jaxson.  I have work to do, and I don’t want to have to call those extra FBI agents posted in the hall to show you out.”

For two full minutes, the only sound in her office was his ragged breathing, every one of them taking another chunk out of her insides.  Finally, she heard the sound of her chamber door closing softly and not a moment too soon, she thought, as the dam she’d been holding back burst wide open.

A moment later, her door opened again.  She would’ve gotten up and locked it but she was hurting too badly.  She waved a hand at whoever it was without turning, and tried to mute her sobs, but her visitor didn’t leave. 

“You need to get over this axe you have to grind with the Crifaso family, Fallon Louise,” her father said, and the door clicked shut. 

Oh, please, not now, daddy
.

“It’s
very
unprofessional and frankly embarrassing to me since I recommended you for your appointment.”  When she didn’t respond, he huffed a breath.  “I know you’re unseasoned, but your behavior is starting to raise eyebrows.  I’m afraid the senior judges are taking notice, so you need to back off if you want to keep your job.”

Fallon’s gut burned like someone shoved a hot knife in it, and she moaned as she leaned over her arms to grip her midsection tighter and the tears came hard and fast.  The only senior judge taking notice was her father, because he was on the Crifaso’s
payroll
. 

Now,
that
is what was embarrassing. 

Knowing the truth now, that her father was just as corrupt as those mobsters, killed her.  James Sharpe was the reason she’d taken an interest in going to law school in the first place, in becoming a federal judge.  He’d been her idol, she’d looked up to him all her life, and to see him fall like this was sickening.  The air tensed as her father walked closer to her desk.  He put his hands on the surface to lean toward her. 

“Oh, good
God
—are you
crying
?!?” He stood back up, and she felt his anger electrify the air.  “You are no longer a ten-year-old, Fallon,” he said, using that tone he used when he was disgusted with something she’d done. 

Well, he could go to hell, because right now she was the only one entitled to be disgusted. 

“You need to take yourself home and stay there until you get your head together.  Get over your fixation with the Crifasos before you come back if you know what’s good for you.”

The swoosh of his robes as he turned toward the door was followed by her door opening and slamming shut, and Fallon’s breath came out in a rush.  She sat there a moment, fighting through the fog in her brain, before pushing up to her feet to stagger to the bathroom at the corner of her chambers.  Looking at her ravaged face in the mirror, she cringed then flicked on the light, turned on the tap and splashed cool water on her face.  She felt for the linen towel on the bar beside the toilet and yanked it down to pat her face dry, then rolled out some toilet paper and blew her nose loudly. 

Her father was right about one thing.  Fallon definitely needed to take herself home and get her head together.  She had other pending cases she could review today, but she knew it would be a futile exercise.  Her mind was too clouded with grief, and her insides too raw to focus. She had a pint of Hagen Daas in her freezer at home with her name on it and a spoon big enough to eat it in one bite.  Today, she would grieve over losing Jaxson, over losing her father, but tomorrow she’d be right back here doing her job. 

Flipping the light off in the bathroom, she took a step but stopped to bend over when her gut twisted again.  Or maybe the day after, she revised, moaning through the pain.  It twisted tighter—holy hell, maybe she’d need the whole fricking week.  Rising, she stumbled to her desk to grab her purse on her way to the door.  Fallon walked out of her office without bothering to remove her robe, because the last thing she cared about at the moment was protocol. 

She just needed to get the hell out of here.

At the back exit, she remembered she didn’t have a car there, so she’d have to call a cab.  When the back door opened and her father stood there on his cell phone, Fallon spun quickly to walk toward the front of the building, fumbling in her purse for her cell phone.  She passed through the sidebar at the security checkpoint and one of the officers spoke, but she didn’t respond.  She kept moving until she pushed through the front door and took a deep breath of freedom, before pausing on the second step to try to find the number for a cab company.  If she had her own damned phone, it would be in her contact list.

Suddenly, flashes blinded her, rapid-fire questions deafened her and microphones appeared under her nose as a mob of reporters rushed up the stairs.  Panic squeezed her chest, and Fallon turned back toward the building but the door was blocked.  The guards inside pounded on the glass to be let out, but the reporters didn’t move.

“Judge Sharpe do you think the money the FBI seized from your father a few minutes ago is mob payoff money?” a smug male voice yelled, shocking her to the core.  Many more questions came at her as Fallon tried to shove her way down the stairs to the sidewalk.  “Judge Sharpe, do you think your father will be impeached?” a woman asked snidely.  A reporter followed her all the way down to the sidewalk with his microphone under her nose to ask, “Judge Sharpe how do you think William Crifaso will take the news he may be charged with bribery of a federal judge?  Did he try to bribe you too?  Is that why you really disappeared?”

Another had the nerve to grab her arm. “Is it true you’ll be testifying against both East Coast Willie and your father, Judge Sharpe?”

Fallon jerked her arm away.  “
No
comment,” she growled, as she looked left and right for an escape route, but only found more reporters. 

Her heart pounded in her ears as she pushed her way down to the sidewalk.  When the crowd broke, she ran for the corner and stopped there to remove her heels. One determined reporter followed her, so without waiting for the crosswalk signal to change, she darted through blaring horns and squealing brakes to get to the other side of the street, before turning right and running until her sides hurt, until the voices faded. 

Gasping for breath, she stopped to lean against the brick wall outside of her favorite deli to catch her breath.  She knew Gaston, the owner, would let her use the phone inside but right then there was no way she could talk.