Authors: Aliyah Burke
because if something happens to her while I’m being ‘detained’, so help
you…”
“After you,” Marks said as two other agents appeared to flank
Osten.
Osten muttered in Italian as he pulled his phone out of his pock-
et. One agent reached for it. “I’ll take that,” he said.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Osten had the agent pinned
against the wall, immobile. His phone was against his ear and uttered
simply, “Feds have me.” Dropping his arm from where it rested against
the skinny agent’s throat, Osten snarled, “Don’t
ever
do that again.”
Then he dropped the phone in the man’s hand.
Not giving a single look behind him, Osten strode out into the
cold. He missed the look that passed among the agents, but he didn’t
care. His only concern was the woman he was forced to leave in the
hospital room.
T w e n t y - T h r e e
The car ride to the plane was full of tense silence. Special Agent
Marks rode next to Osten. The agent Osten had slammed into the wall
kept searing him with angry eyes during the whole flight. None of it
mattered.
Osten struggled to rein in his emotions.
It’ll not do CJ any good if
you get locked up.
Closing his eyes, he conjured up a serene picture of
her. It was an image of CJ with a sparkle in her eyes doing what she
loved to do more than anything—teach. Osten found that look and held
onto it, using her light to keep himself from venturing into the dark.
Not a single word was spoken as the agents escorted him
through the lobby of their building. Four men and one woman moved
across the tiled floor to a holding room. The second the door closed
behind him, Osten groaned softly.
This is such shit!
Having surrendered
his phone, the only thing he could do was wait.
He scanned the room, taking in the scarred table, faded gov-
ernment-issue carpet, two chairs, and, of course, the one-way glass. No
expression visible on his face, he was stoic as he sat in one of the chairs,
and waited. After thirty minutes he said, “Coffee would be nice, or a
cold drink.”
Three minutes later the door opened. Agent Marks walked in
holding both a cup of coffee and a bottled water. “Here you go.” Marks
put them both down and took a seat across from Osten.
Taking the water, he said, “Thanks. Finished checking my story
yet?”
“Not just yet. Why don’t you tell it to me again, from the begin-
ning?”
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A swallow of the cool liquid ran down Osten’s throat. “How
about you apologize and give me a ride back home?” Osten counter-
offered.
“Give it up. I know you were there. That is how you work.” The
tone turned scathing. “You SEALs.”
Osten halted the bottle at his lips. “You rang the bell.” It was a
statement. Any man who got tired of the hellish regiment they endured
to become a SEAL only had to go ring a bell and he was done.
Marks’s nose flared, the first sign he was losing control, then he
regained it back. “When she wakes up and says you were there, I’m
gonna be all over you like—”
The door swung open. Osten and Marks watched as a beautiful-
ly intense black woman entered. An aura of power surrounded her, one
only enhanced by the professional pants suit she wore.
Osten saw a small scar on her right jaw, but it was her eyes that
snared him and apparently Marks too considering the expression on his
face. Dark brown eyes were cold, business-like. They demanded re-
spect.
She looked directly at Osten. “Not another word. My client has
nothing to say,” she said in a crisp tone, barely glancing at Agent
Marks. “We’re leaving and y’all will be billed for the transportation to
get him home. Mr. Scoleri, shall we?”
Osten stood and found that in her heels she was almost as tall as
he was.
“Wait a sec, who are you?” Marks demanded. “You JAG?”
“No.” Her calculating eyes landed on the man questioning her.
“I’m his attorney until the time he receives military counsel. My name is
Chantelle Porter.” With a flick of her wrist, a beige business card landed
before the agent. “If you have any more questions for my client, I’m
sure you’ll go through me.”
Osten followed her out of the interrogation room and out of the
building. He had tried to say something but she’d shushed him even as
she’d handed him his phone.
At the top of the steps, she stopped. Osten zipped up his coat as
winter’s chill bit into him. He recognized Jayde Kincade, wife of his
Executive Officer, XO, approaching them. “Jayde,” he said, going to
meet her, “Is Cade here?”
“No. Sorry.” Her eyes landed on the woman beside him. “Chan-
telle meet Osten. Osten, meet Chantelle Porter, my sister.”
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Grasping Chantelle’s hand, he bent over it. “
Grazie
, for helping
me.” Facing Jayde, Osten leaned in and kissed her cheek. “
Grazie
, Jayde.
But why?”
“Let’s go,” Jayde said. Taking Osten’s offered hand, they moved
up the street. “Chantelle and I were up here shopping when Tyson
called furious with a message he got from Ghost.” She looked at her
sister. “That’s Ernst. I told Chantelle and she offered to help. Hope you
don’t mind going back with the two of us.”
Osten grinned. “Not at all. Thank you both. I insist on buying
dinner for us.” He placed a call to Ajani and got updated on CJ’s
condition. Then he headed off with the two women.
The sisters were a lot of fun. Chantelle drove a Toyota Prius and
despite her earlier coldness, was a very warm and funny person. He
and Chantelle spoke on the ride back as a pregnant and exhausted
Jayde slept.
“I can’t believe she hasn’t told Tyson,” Osten said as he checked
over his shoulder on the slightly snoring woman.
“Well, she just found out. She wants to tell him face to face, and
it didn’t help that when he called today he was less than pleased.”
“I understand. That’s the way I’d want to be told.”
Chantelle smiled in the increasing dark. “You’ll have to give me
the name of the hospital so I can type it in the GPS.”
“No problem. Thanks again for helping me out.”
“Jayde said you’re family. I wasn’t the best sister when we were
growing up. We’ve just started to bond more. When I heard her say
with such confidence that she believed in you, I couldn’t say no.”
Chantelle chuckled. “I had to get a power suit. I didn’t think jeans
would cut it; otherwise, we would have been their earlier.”
“I owe you one. If it is within my power to grant it, I will.”
Chantelle flicked a glance back to her still-dozing sister. “You
don’t owe me anything. If you are family to Jayde, then you are mine as
well.”
Osten smiled. “
Grazie.
That doesn’t change the fact I am in your
debt.”
Chantelle remained silent and focused on the road. After a few
moments of companionable silence, she pointed into the night. “What
looks good to you for dinner?”
“Wherever you and Jayde would normally go. It doesn’t matter
to me.”
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“Well, okay. If you’re sure.” Chantelle pulled into a Red Lobster
and shut off her vehicle. Turning in her seat, she said gently, “Jayde.
Wake up, it’s time to eat.”
Osten watched silently as she woke, stretching like a cat.
Damn,
Cade would keelhaul my ass for looking at Jayde.
He quickly got out of the
car and called Ajani for another update.
The Italian SEAL escorted two beautiful women into the restau-
rant and sat across from them in the booth. When their waiter came,
Osten deferred to the women, letting them order first.
Chantelle and Jayde kept him entertained with questions and
stories of their own. It was a welcome relief from the stress he had been
feeling. He smiled as he dipped his lobster in the melted butter and
placed it in his mouth.
Jayde met his eyes briefly and Osten was again drawn in by the
kindness in her gaze. “I think, Chantelle, we should get him back to his
woman. I’m sure he wants to see her again today.” He opened his
mouth, but Jayde continued, “Besides, I should tell my husband I’m
preggers. You know, he might like to be the…um…fifth person to find
out.”
She flashed Osten a conspiratorial grin. “Don’t tell him you
knew about this first.”
“No, ma’am. I will act surprised when he comes in and brags
about it to all of us.” He waved for the bill.
“Cheeky man, Baby Boy. I’ll tell him it’s yours.” Jayde reached
across the table and smacked his arm. “Damn,” she murmured and felt
his bicep, “I can see why it was so easy for you to carry him. You’re all
muscle.”
Osten fought down a blush as he signed the slip. “If you say so,
ma’am.” It was one thing to joke with the men about their women, but a
whole other thing entirely to joke with the women about their men.
As they stood, Osten helped both women into their coats before
slipping on his own. Jayde slid her arm through his. “I didn’t mean to
make you feel uncomfortable. I was only teasing.”
He smiled down on at her. “I’m fine. Not used to being teased
by my XO’s wife, that’s all.”
Chantelle took his other arm. “Thank you for a wonderful din-
ner.”
“My pleasure, ma’am. Thank you for saving my six.”
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At the car, Osten opened the passenger side door when Jayde
whispered in his ear, “I know you’re exhausted. Sleep. I’ll get Chantelle
to the hospital.”
Osten kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Cade is one
hell
of a lucky
man to have you in his life.”
Jayde squeezed his hand. “So is your CJ.” Osten climbed into the
back, buckled himself in and allowed the soft beat of the music to guide
him to sleep.
He woke the moment Chantelle pulled into the hospital lot. His
body, while tired, still felt much better than it had; even a tiny bit of rest
had done wonders for him.
“Here you go, Mr. Scoleri,” Chantelle said.
“
Grazie,
thank you, for everything you’ve done for me.” He
climbed out after Jayde.
“Take my card and call me if you need anything from me. Any-
thing at all. In fact, whomever you get from JAG as your counsel, have
him or her call me and I’ll fill that person in on whatever that Marks
character has told me.” Chantelle held it out to him.
“Will do.” Osten put the card in his pocket and assisted Jayde
back into the car. Kissing the back of her hand, he whispered, “Congrats
on the baby.” Raising his head, he looked at the driver. “Chantelle it
was an honor. Drive safely.” He shut the door and headed into the
hospital after the women drove off.
Hurrying through the halls, Osten knocked once on the door be-
fore he entered. All three brothers were around the bed. He could see
Ajani and Thurston with tears on their cheeks. His heart sank.
Thurston looked up at him and smiled sadly. “She’s awake,
groggy, but awake. She’s been asking for you.”
The news very nearly floored him.
She asked for me.
Stepping up
beside Binh, he nodded at the brothers before his dark eyes dropped to
the woman who owned his heart. “Welcome back, gorgeous,” he
murmured as he kissed her lips tenderly. The bruise still made him
furious but her being awake tamed him.
The most beautiful voice said, “Osten.” Her eyes were still a bit
unfocused as they moved over his face. “You came.”
“Of course I did.” His heart lurched at the tears her eyes ac-
quired.
“Have to tell you something,” she rasped, exhaustion apparent
as her eyes drifted shut.
“I’m all ears, baby.”
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“It was you who saved me.” Her eyes opened again. “You were
who I latched onto. I love you, Osten Vittano Scoleri.” She sighed. “I
wanted to make sure I told you.”
Cupping her face tenderly, Osten kissed her lips. His heart was
pounding so loudly he was sure everyone could hear it. “
Ti amo,
CJ,
Ti
amo.
”
“Remove that man from this room!” a voice commanded. Spe-
cial Agent Marks had returned.
Osten’s gaze hardened.
Bastards!
CJ turned her face and pressed
her lips against his palm. Her eyes showed her fear of being without
him.
“Step away from the witness, Mr. Scoleri. You are still a suspect
in our investigation.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Osten held CJ’s gaze and
mouthed, “I love you.”
“We haven’t questioned her yet and don’t want you helping her
story along.” The tone was snide.
Running his hand over her cheek, Osten stepped back, knowing
he would hurt them if CJ was injured in a tussle. “Then you should
have left a man here,” Osten snapped. “Ask your questions and leave.”
Special Agent Marks shook his head. “You have to leave. Oh,
and if you resist, we’ll arrest you.” His eyes were full of challenge.