JARED: The Justice Brothers Series
JARED
Book 1: The Justice Brothers Series
By
Taylor Lee
“
Jared
, Book 1
kicks off
USA Today best-selling author Taylor Lee’s
provocative new series,
The Justice Brothers
.
- On her first mission, Officer Hailey Michels confronts the leader of a dangerous Cartel.
- Her chance to become a hero evaporates when the powerful Cartel member turns out to be an undercover agent.
- It was bad enough to blow his cover but when she discovers who he really is, Hailey’s budding career, along with her heart, takes a decided nose dive.
- The rookie cop learns the hard way that when tangling with the Justice Brothers, Justice—like Love—isn’t always fair or easy.
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Prologue
H
ailey Michels snagged a gasping breath, praying the sharp intake wasn’t audible. It was bad enough that her heart was a staccato drumstick beating against a tightly strung snare drum. Surely he could hear it; but the tall shadowy figure standing less than twenty yards in front of her didn’t look her way. She could only hope the misty hangover from the pelting rain that had drenched her and the woods around them gave her cover. Hailey cautiously leaned back against the towering Norway pine. Grateful for the huge trunk that was nearly as wide as she was, Hailey dug her boot heels into the wet ground, praying for purchase on the slippery leaf-strewn path.
It took her a full second that felt like a lifetime to come to grips with the fact that the man less than half a basketball court length away was one of the bangers they were chasing. Hailey knew that if she had the sense of a mindless mosquito facing a can of Raid she would be terrified—but her racing heart, spitless dry mouth, and blood rushing in her ears spoke to exhilaration not fear. Not even the badass tats decorating what she could see of the gangbanger’s corded neck above the collar of his leather jacket sounded a warning bell. Heck no. Her excitement flared realizing that she, Officer H. C. Michels, a rookie cop on her first honest-to-God mission, had a chance to bring down a member of the feared Dragon’s Curse gang. Inching her hand behind herself, Hailey reached for the 9mm Glock tucked in her back holster. Cautiously drawing the weapon, she silently racked the slide, grasped the leather grip with both hands, and pointed it at the hardened criminal in front of her.
Steadying her grip on the lethal weapon, Hailey promised herself that if necessary she absolutely would shoot to kill. A tiny shiver of doubt tricked up her spine but she immediately squashed it. Admittedly, she’d never killed a man. To be completely honest, she’d never shot a gun outside of the CQ tactical gun range. But by God, she’d put her ballistic scores up against the best recruits in her academy class. Okay, so she wasn’t at a Friday night GSSF Match at the local range, and the man in front of her wasn’t a paper target silhouette. No, to the contrary. The tats on his neck and fierce dragon insignia decorating the back of his jacket confirmed his membership in the Dragon’s Curse gang, an offshoot of the Balkan Organized Crime network.
From a crash course on Cartels for new police officers, Hailey knew that the BOC was one of the world’s most vicious Cartels, trafficking in cocaine, heroin and MDMA. They gave the South American Cartels a run for their money in sheer violence and fervent devotion to spreading their vile empire worldwide. The Croatian-based syndicate had invaded the unsuspecting upper Midwest in the guise of the Dragon’s Curse. In addition to their poisonous products courtesy of the BOC, the fierce motorcycle gang had aligned with the Aryan Brotherhood, America’s largest prison-based white supremacist alliance. The combination of the finest shit the DEA had seen to date and a fanatical adherence to the principles of “white-might” hate made the rag tag crotch rocketeers the most dangerous gang ever to set up shop in the normally placid Northern Lake Country. Sucking in another surreptitious breath and with a clamoring heart, Hailey acknowledged that a member of the vicious gang was standing mere yards away from her.
Hailey had been thrilled when Lieutenant Justice included her in the raid. Not believing her luck, she’d quickly agreed when he admonished her that she was back-up only and was to stick to Sergeant “Solly” Solberg like ‘ugly on an orangutan.’ Shaking with excitement, Hailey had huddled by the big Swede with the ruddy cheeks and ample gut who’d always treated her respectfully. Hailey didn’t kid herself; she knew that behind her back Solly likely joined in the chauvinistic trash talk that the guys usually managed to squash when she entered the room. But Hailey wasn’t deaf
or
blind. More than once, hearing the smothered chortling, she’d whirled in time to see one of her randier teammates mimicking wanking himself off at the sight of her backside.
Hailey’s sisters in blue warned her when she arrived that the old prejudices against women recruits were alive and well. Even in the supposedly enlightened, politically correct Duluth PD, it was assumed that an
attractive
women got to where she was by spending a good bit of time on her back—or her knees. Over beer and harder booze, her sarcastic female colleagues scoffed at her surprise, asking what the hell she’d expected. As Mitsi, the longest serving and most outspoken of the female detectives had snorted, “Look, Goldilocks, given your blonde hair and showgirl gams, you may as well accept the fact that that righteous rack of yours is the ‘go to’ jerk off trigger for every one-pump-chump in the locker room.” According to Hailey’s cynical friends, the only redeeming factor in this particular police department was that Commander Justice came down hard on the adolescent-testosteroned perpetrators and more than once had relegated a particularly outrageous chauvinist to an enervating stint on traffic duty.
Focusing on the sinister man in front of her and acutely aware of her solitary vulnerability, Hailey wondered how she could have lost her squad. One minute she was joined at the hip with Solly, a mountain of a man, the next she was struggling to find the team. It was clearly her fault. Admittedly she was a city girl, unaccustomed to traipsing around a dense forest on a moonless night. When the storm hit and the skies opened up pouring sheets of icy rain on their squad, Hailey lost her bearings. Huddling under an outcropping of brush, she’d frantically scanned for a sight of her team, trying to determine how she’d lost them. In fairness, she comforted herself, it wasn’t hard to do. The sleeting rain, thick branches, and virtually identical trees along the myriad paths in the thick woods distorted her sense of direction. She had been about to give up and simply try to find a hiding place when the rain abruptly stopped. It was as though a giant hand had reached up into the sky and shut off a gushing fire hydrant. Miraculously, at the same moment a break in the overhanging cloud cover allowed a stream of moonlight to pierce the bleak night. Not daring to believe her luck, Hailey was about to go find her squad—or die trying—when she saw
him
.
Marshalling her courage, Hailey took a deep breath and raised her Glock in outstretched hands. To help steady her shaky knees she gingerly pressed back against the sturdy pine; but when she did, the root securing her foot gave way. Before she could brace herself her leg shot forward across the slippery ground. Careening down an embankment she hadn’t known was there, only her frantically flailing arms and smashing against a broken tree stump kept her from landing flat on her face. Her cheek hit the ground at the same time that she painfully wrenched her ankle. Unable to stifle the cry that fled her lips, Hailey managed to hold on to her Glock.
The stabbing agony shooting up her ankle signaled a likely sprain, maybe even a break. The pain vanished into the dark night when she saw the yawningly empty space in front of her where seconds before the gangbanger had stood. The hard steel muzzle against the base of her skull underscored the obvious. In case she’d missed it, his deep voice expelled a warning she didn’t need to hear to know that she was doomed. His guttural threat said it all.
“Move an inch, asshole, and it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.”
Hailey froze, then cried out in surprise when he hit her wrist with a sharp knifehand strike, sending her Glock skittering across the ground and well out of her reach.
At the pained shriek, the assailant grabbed the DPD cap off Hailey’s head, jerking her long blonde ponytail free. Kneeling over her back, his strong thighs straddling her hips, his surprised grunt and muttered expletive, “What the Fuck” confirmed that he saw that she was a woman. Certain that he would rape her then kill her, Hailey desperately fought back. With a frantic cry she arched up her hips trying to buck him off. Her attack caught him by surprise and she managed to free herself enough to scoot forward; but he caught her boot and yanked her back across the rough ground. Stretching his full length on top of her, he pressed the muzzle of his pistol harder against her neck. His raspy voice was layered with menace.
“Goddamn it, I told you not to move.”
Knowing that she had nothing to lose, Hailey fought to jerk free but she was pinned so tightly between the hard ground and an even harder man that moving wasn’t an option. In fact, she could barely breathe.
Still pressing the steel muzzle against the base of Hailey’s skull, he grabbed her ponytail and yanked her head back with his free hand. Pressing his lips against her cheek, he growled, “Jesus Christ, woman. Do you have any idea what one false move on your part could do? Christ, this extended Sig of mine would blow your head clear across the fucking lake and they’d never find enough pieces to identify you. Hell, there wouldn’t be enough left to attract the goddamned minnows, much less a decent sized walleye.”
Driving her harder against the damp ground, he added, a note of incredulity striping his harsh tones, “Which brings me to the bigger question of this fiasco. What the
hell
is a Barbie Doll doing playing Big Bad Policeman all by
herfuckingself
in the deep, dark National Forest in the middle of the night? Didn’t anyone ever tell you, Sweetheart, that Ken, not Barbie, gets to play the badass cop?”
Hailey violently shook her head, determined to free herself from his fierce grip. Righteous anger at his chauvinistic taunts spurred her on. Thrashing from side to side, she didn’t care how inane her angry order sounded.
“Damn you! This is…unacceptable! I demand that you let me up! Now!”
Obviously not impressed with her impassioned command, the big man snorted.
“Not fucking likely, Sweetheart.” Tightening his grip even further, he added, his voice dropping dangerously low, “And for the last time, Sugar,
don’t
move.”
When Hailey ignored his order and raised her hips, trying valiantly to free herself, to her surprise he laughed. If she didn’t know better she would’ve thought that he was actually amused. The rasp of his beard brushing against the sensitive curve of her neck, and a deep insinuating chuckle confirmed it was unlikely that she would share his amusement. His hard thighs pressed against her bottom, she was startled at the flagrantly sexual intimation in his voice.
“On second thought, Sugar, maybe you
should
move. Especially if you keep moving like
that
!”
He ran his tongue across her ear, and then bit down on the tender lobe, sending a shockwave of sensation streaking across her thighs. Stunned at his audacious action, and even more so at her untoward response, Hailey gasped when he traced his hand over her butt and wrapped his huge hand around her thigh. Running his fingers along the inside of her upper thigh, he let the searching digits lie suggestively close to the apex between her legs.
At her shocked shriek and fierce attempt to break free, he chuckled mockingly.
“Hmm. Hell yeah, Honey, keep it up. You can move that hot little ass of yours all you want.
Any
way that makes you feel as good as it’s making me feel.” He added with a derisive chuckle, “I have to admit, Sugar, it’s been a while since I’ve had a receptive woman squirming on the ground beneath me.”