CrossFire (Love & Lies #1)

BOOK: CrossFire (Love & Lies #1)
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Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

More by Alex Strong

Acknowledgments

About the Author

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

C
ROSS
F
IRE

Love & Lies Book 1

 

Alex Strong

 

 

 

 

 

Red Dahlia Publishing

 

 

 

 

 

CROSSFIRE

 

Copyright
©
2015 Alex Strong

 

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means now known or hereafter invented, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher, Red Dahlia Publishing.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, or events is coincidental.

 

Cover Art
©
konradbak/BortN66/fotolia

Cover Design by J.P. Irons

 

ISBN: 978-0-9913614-3-4

 

 

 

I dedicate this book to my friend Cattigan for making me feel like a rock star.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Jillian Sandro’s hand tightened around the cell phone pressed hard against her ear as she listened to the message. Another job rejection.

She deleted the message and dialed a number that went immediately to voice mail.

“Cameron,” she said into the phone, fighting back tears of frustration, “I don’t know what you’re telling these people, but you need to stop. This is my career you’re screwing with!”

Jillian ended the call and slammed the phone on her dresser, instantly regretting it. She couldn’t afford a new phone if this one broke.

After checking to see that it had survived the abuse, she strapped on her iPod and headed out for a much needed run.

Music blasted through the headphones and anger consumed her thoughts as Jillian started jogging down the sidewalk from her father’s Renton home. Looking over her shoulder for vehicles turning into the suburban development, she mis-judged her stride off the curb, causing her ankle to roll.

“Dammit,” she cried out, falling back onto the curb in pain and embarrassment.

“Are you all right?” someone asked.

Jillian looked up into the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen.

“Um, yeah, I think it’s fine,” she said to the tall stranger who had appeared from nowhere. He was holding a leash with a German shepherd on the other end of it.

“Here,” he said, “let me help you up.”

Before she could protest, he took her hand and put an arm around her.

“You know, I’m sure if I just walk it off, I’ll be fine.” She tried to take a step away from him, but as soon as she put her weight on the left foot, pain shot through the ankle, causing her to lose balance and start to fall. He caught her, and Jillian could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as she stood there, propped up by his solid arms.

“I don’t think you’re going to be able to walk this off,” said the beautiful stranger. “Is there somewhere nearby I could help you get to?”

She sighed. So much for the therapeutic run.

“I’m just down the street,” she said, pointing.

He looked where she indicated, squinting his eyes. “Didn’t make it very far, did you?” he said. “This should be a piece of cake.”

Before she could decide what he meant by that, he handed the leash to his dog, who clamped it in its mouth, and swept her up.

“This really isn’t necessary,” she stammered. “My other foot is fine, I’m sure I could hobble home.”

“I know,” he said, looking straight ahead which she was grateful for. Jillian was afraid she might burst into flames if she had to look into his eyes at this close proximity. “But it will be quicker. Now, which house is it?”

“Fifteen forty-two,” she mumbled.

“Not far at all,” he said, only slightly breathless.

God, this was embarrassing. Jillian wondered if her cheeks could get any hotter. She caught a whiff of his aftershave and involuntarily inhaled, trying to breathe in more of it.

“You okay?” he asked, looking concerned.

“Um, yeah.” Surely steam was coming off her by now.

She glanced down at the dog, who was walking obediently next to them.

“Aren’t you worried your dog is going to run away?” she asked.

“Nope.”

It didn’t take long, but to Jillian it felt like an eternity until he was setting her down on the front stoop.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Glad I could help. I’m Reid, by the way. Reid Jackson. I live in that house.” He pointed to the gray house across the street, two driveways down.

“Jillian Sandro.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jillian.”

He extended a hand that she reluctantly shook. She had made a fool of herself, and just wished he would leave her to climb inside a hole and feel like an idiot in private.

“I’m trained in first-aid,” he said. “If you want, I could take a look at it.”

“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll be fine. I’ve had my share of twists and sprains. This is nothing. I just need to get inside and ice it. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Do you need help getting inside?” he asked, looking a little dejected.

She started to feel bad. As embarrassed as she was, Jillian didn’t want her neighbor, who was being so helpful, to think she was a complete bitch.

“Sure,” she said, reaching out to him. “That would be great.”

With Reid helping her to stand, Jillian slipped a key from her wristband and unlocked the door.

“Hold on,” he said before they walked in.

She watched as he tied the dog’s leash to the railing.

“Now you don’t trust your dog to stay?” she asked.

“Not when I’m away,” he said with a boyish smile.

Reid assisted her to the couch, then took off to grab an ice pack from the nearby kitchen. Jillian watched the undeniably attractive neighbor dig through her freezer. Even his sandy blonde hair was mussed in a way that gave her heart a slight pause. And those bright blue eyes were to die for. She gave herself a mental slap. Guys this good looking were either taken or trouble—or both.

 

Reid buried his head in Jillian’s freezer, but he wasn’t finding any ice packs.

“Are you sure you have any in here?” he asked.

Her brows furrowed as she thought about it, and then those dark eyes went big. “Sorry, they’re in the garage freezer, not that one.”

“Is this the door?” he asked, heading towards the logical option and she nodded.

It didn’t take long to find them. As he headed back into the house, Reid noticed a stack of boxes in the corner, some of them half-unpacked, or packed, depending on how you looked at it.

“There you go,” he said, positioning the pack on her ankle.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she said, looking at him with those warm brown eyes. They were rimmed with thick dark lashes and matched the long hair, pulled back into a ponytail almost perfectly.

“It’s nothing,” he said. Reid looked around the room. The decor was minimal and, if he had to guess, it had been put together by a male. There seemed to be very little female influence in here.

“How long have you lived here?” he asked.

“I’ve only been here for a couple weeks now.”

That explained the boxes.

“I didn’t realize anyone had moved onto the street so recently,” he said.

“It’s actually my dad’s house,” she said, lowering her eyes. “He’s lived here a couple years now. I’m kind of,” she paused, “in limbo at the moment. My dad is letting me stay with him until I can get back on my feet.”

“I see.”

“How about you?” Jillian asked, looking back up at him. “How long have you lived in the neighborhood?”

“It’s been a couple years as well,” he answered.

Reid’s pocket started buzzing. He pulled out his phone to look at the screen, though he had no doubt who it was from.

“That would be work,” he said. “Looks like I need to head out.”

“What do you do?” she asked.

“I work with banking security systems,” he said.

“Which bank?” she asked.

“I’m with an outside company,” he explained. “I help install the systems and teach the banks how to use them. How about yourself?”

“I’m in—
was
in graphic design. Like I said, in limbo at the moment.”

Reid nodded. “So are you okay here?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said. “My dad should be home soon if I need anything.”

“See you around, then,” he said, heading for the door.

“Thank you,” she called out, and he watched her blush for the umpteenth time. “In case I didn’t say it already.”

“No problem.” he said, and left.

 

Reid flashed his badge at the guard and was waved into the parking lot for the building known by most people as the Alliance Security Systems offices. But Reid knew its true role as the headquarters for Section Four, one of five clandestine operations positioned in strategic locations of the continental United States.

He parked and walked to the only elevator in the lot, where he punched in his ten-digit code on the inside panel. Once the doors closed on him, a full body scan was performed before the lift made its way to the second floor. When he stepped off, Reid was immediately greeted by his partner and closest friend.

“Jackson, there you are,” Aaron Wells said, looking at his watch. “Took you long enough.”

Reid shook his head, choosing not to respond. Aaron always gave him a hard time for being the last to arrive. As much as he loved his job, Reid purposely bought a house outside the city, just within the approved perimeter for operatives’ primary residences. He didn’t expect Aaron to understand that a little bit of distance was his coping mechanism.

“Had to drive the Camaro in,” Aaron said, sitting on the corner of Reid’s desk. “The bike was in pieces when I got the call.”

“Anything wrong with it?” Reid asked while thumbing through some papers left on his desk.

“Nah, just giving it a tune-up.”

And that was Aaron’s coping mechanism. He and Reid both owned the same high-end bike, but while Reid wouldn’t let anyone but the dealer touch it, Aaron was completely hands on.

“How about you?” Aaron asked. “In the middle of anything interesting?”

“Matter of fact, I was,” said Reid. “Met a neighbor today.”

Aaron rolled his eyes.

“A female neighbor.”

Now Aaron’s eyebrows went up in interest, but they were interrupted before either men could say anything else.

"Agent Jackson, Agent Wells," a woman barked. "Briefing room, now."

Both men followed Director Laura Rollins into the conference room and sat at the table where the rest of the team was already assembled.

Director Rollins made her way to the front where images were being projected on a smart screen.

"We just got word that the arms sale between Voichek and Polesun has been moved to tomorrow afternoon," she said. "We have to act fast if we are going to intercept the broker. No new information, just moving the timetable up. You have your mission. Now grab your gear and head over to Boeing Field. Wheels up in one hour."

BOOK: CrossFire (Love & Lies #1)
8.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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