Loss Recovery (Alaskan Security: Team Rogue Book 1) Read online

  Loss Recovery, book 1 in the Alaskan Security-Team Rogue series.

  Copyright 2019 by Jemma Westbrook.

  www.jemmawestbrook.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First printing, 2019

  Cover design by Robin Harper at Wicked by Design.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 1

  “YOU READY TO be back in the cold?”

  Wade turned his attention from the small airplane window to where his closest friend sat beside him. “Not everyone likes Florida as much as your crazy ass does.”

  He and Brock just spent the past four weeks on the Gulf coast, making sure the daughter of a smuggler didn’t end up paying the ultimate price for what her father chose to do with his free time.

  It was four weeks too long.

  Brock leaned back in his leather seat on Alaskan Security's smallest jet, lifting one shoulder as he took a sip of his beer. “My love of Florida has nothing to do with the weather, though.” He shot Wade a grin. “You don’t get to see near as much skin in Alaska.” He started to tip his beer back again but stopped, eyes focusing on Wade. “Not that you took advantage of it.”

  Wade glared long and hard at Brock before turning back to look out at the snow-covered landscape getting closer with each passing second. “Not everyone is as driven by their dick as you are.”

  Brock scoffed in mock offense. “You wound me.”

  Wade didn’t bother responding. Brock meant well. His friend had tried everything to get him out of this funk for almost two years.

  That meant two years of Brock showing up at their hotel rooms with women. Two years of him dragging Wade to every bar they passed. Hell, at one point Brock even made him a fake Tinder account trying to get him to hook up with someone.

  Wade wasn’t interested in any of it.

  “You look over the file yet?” Thankfully, Brock must have realized it was time to move the conversation along.

  It was why they were still friends. Brock knew to push just far enough, and then back off before Wade had to be a dick.

  “No.” He barely glanced at the manila envelope as it fell into his lap. It didn’t really matter what was inside. Who he was protecting. This job no longer held the excitement it once did.

  The shine had worn off. Wiped away by the knowledge of what it stole from him.

  What he could never have because of it.

  “You should probably at least read it over before we get there. Might give the wrong impression if you don’t know what the fuck’s going on.” Brock’s tone was sharper now, showing his growing irritation with the perpetual bad mood Wade always wore. “Might make this woman doubt your ability to protect her if you don’t know who the fuck you’re supposed to be keeping away.”

  Wade snatched the file. “It’s not fucking rocket science.” He flipped open the file, pausing as Brock’s words sank in. “Her?” He scanned the top sheet of information. “I thought it was a man.” He found the name he remembered. “Roger Hines.”

  “That’s who hired us, but it was to protect his daughter.” Brock ran a finger down the page until it rested just below another name. “Bessie Hines.”

  “Another prick doing shit to put his family in danger?” It was a lucrative business they were in, offering protection to people who didn’t always deserve it.

  Unfortunately, it was also a business model Wade was struggling with more and more. It’s why he’d been pushing Shawn to assign him and Brock to jobs like the one in Florida. It was a way for him to lean a little more to the right side of the wrong line he walked.

  Brock shook his head. “Dude, this is why you’ve gotta fucking read the files.” He flipped to the next page of the stack of papers in the file. “She’s got a restraining order against some dick she used to date.”

  Wade stared down at the court record in front of him. “Does that say kidnapping?”

  “You’re the one reading it.” Brock polished off the last of his beer. “Finally.”

  “Ass.” Wade scanned the list of charges against Chris Snyder. “Have you read this shit?”

  Brock snorted. “Of course I’ve fucking read it.” He shook his head. “Some men don’t like to take no for an answer I guess.”

  “He’s going to have to learn how.” Wade straightened in his seat, feeling just a little like he used to. Maybe because he finally had a job that felt like it mattered.

  Like it would make a fucking difference.

  Sure they kept the girl in Florida safe. Knocked out a few shitty humans in the process, ridding the world of their presence. But at the end of the day it didn’t matter. Her father wasn’t going to quit doing what he was doing, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up on another bad guy’s radar.

  Ricardo’s voice came over the speaker. “Sit your asses down. We’re about to land.”

  Brock leaned to the left, yelling toward the open door to the cockpit. “You don’t have to use that thing, asshole. We can hear you.”

  The hollow sound of an open connection came across the speaker a second before their pilot’s voice. “Kiss my ass, Brock. I like it. Makes me feel professional.”

  “Professional my ass.” Brock flipped the file on Wade’s lap closed and shoved it into his bag. “Is it just teams of two on this one?”

  “Shawn hasn’t said different.” He and Brock were always partnered up, but depending on the situation, Shawn occasionally added another man to the teams they normally worked in. “Want me to ask Ricardo to join us?”

  “I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident.” Brock’s body jumped around a little as the plane touched down. He grabbed the seat in front of him and leaned into the aisle again. “That’s not fucking funny, Rico.”

  Ricardo’s deep laugh was loud enough to be heard over the sound of the air fighting the wing flaps as the plane slowed.

  Brock’s well-tanned skin paled as he gripped his bag to his chest. “Tell him that’s not fucking funny.”

  “Don’t give him shit and he won’t give you shit.” Wade grabbed his own bag and slung it over his shoulder as the plane made its way toward the small terminal of the tiny private airport where Alaskan Security stored their planes. He glanced out the window to see the rolling stairs were already out, being shoved into place by—

  Wade squinted at the man stomping his way across the tamarack. “Is that Shawn?”

  Brock leaned in beside him. “What the fuck is Shawn doing out there?”

  The plane came to a stop and Ricardo stepped through the doorway of the cockpit, black brows pushed together as he opened the door. “What the fuck is Shawn doing?”

  As soon as the door was open Shawn rushed
through. He pointed at Brock and Wade. “Come on. We gotta go.”

  Wade stepped past Brock. “What’s wrong?”

  “Your lady showed up a day early and wasn’t real happy we weren’t ready for her.” Shawn shook his head a little. “That one is going to be a handful.”

  “Great.” Brock grabbed his coat and followed Wade out of the plane and down the steps. “Nothing worse than a woman who’s all wound up.”

  “Her ex-boyfriend is going schizo and the people her parents hired to keep her safe didn’t show up. I would say she has the right to be a little wound up.”

  Wade dropped his bag to the ground and shoved his arms into his black down-lined parka. The air here felt colder after spending so long in the heat of Florida, and the chill was already biting into his skin.

  “She wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow.” Brock fought on his own coat as they kept walking to the black SUV waiting for them. “It’s not our fault she showed up a day early.”

  “Doesn’t matter. She’s probably scared shitless if she was willing to move here to hide from him.” Wade opened the door and climbed into the back seat, the heated interior already a welcome relief. He was getting soft. Maybe he’d sit outside naked for a while. Build his tolerance back up.

  It was one of the main reasons they were the only security company in the state. No one else could handle the frigid temperatures.

  It was also one of the main reasons their income was so lucrative and their schedule was so full. The cold meant less people and fewer cops. In Alaska you could virtually disappear. Good for the woman they were on their way to meet.

  But also good for criminals looking to hide out.

  Shawn jumped into the driver’s seat and immediately pulled away. “How was the flight?”

  “Fine.” Wade settled back in his seat. “Where is she at?”

  “I set her up in number five. Figured she deserved the nicest we had to offer since we dropped the ball.”

  Wade caught Shawn’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “We dropped the ball?”

  “Her father sent an email letting me know he was putting her on the next plane. Apparently there was an incident.”

  Fuck. No wonder this woman was upset. “What kind of an incident?”

  “He came to her house. Stood just outside the reach of the security cameras so she couldn’t prove he was there.”

  They didn’t deal with too many domestic cases. Most of what they did leaned more toward the jobs that no one else would take, either because of the questionable dealings of the client, or because the threat of violence was more of a guarantee.

  It was why they could charge what they did. The people they protected had the money to pay it and no other options.

  But this woman would have multiple options available to her. Anyone would have taken her case on.

  “Why did they hire us?” Brock voiced the thought working its way through Wade’s head.

  Shawn looked at them long and hard in the mirror. “I think you know the answer to that. He wants his daughter safe.” Shawn paused just long enough. “At any cost.”

  They weren’t mercenaries.

  Technically.

  But if the opportunity arose to take out someone who needed taking out, Team Rogue was more than happy to do the world a favor.

  Wade gave Shawn a nod. “Fair enough.”

  Brock leaned forward. “You have our phones?”

  “Everything’s in the back.” Shawn turned the SUV onto the narrow road leading to one of the ten safe-houses in the small town of Brisbane that Alaskan Security called home. “I grabbed you some clothes, but you might have to get more between shifts.”

  While out-of-state jobs were all work all the time, most local jobs were done with two-man teams, each working in ten-hour blocks before switching out.

  Unless shit was going bad. Then it was all hands on deck, all the time.

  As long as nothing went wrong, this would be a nice break after working around-the-clock for a month.

  Number five came into view as the Rover bumped down the snow-covered drive. It was the largest of the cabins Alaskan Security owned, with six bedrooms and a large, open kitchen sporting high-end appliances. Usually it was reserved for either their highest paying jobs, or the most dangerous, where multiple guards were required to be on hand at all times. “How many men are on this?”

  “Just two at a time.” Shawn’s gaze didn’t meet his in the mirror. “For now.”

  Wade started to ask what the fuck that meant, but Shawn cut him off, throwing the SUV into park and jumping out. “I’ll introduce you. Then I’ve got to go. Got another job I gotta get lined up before someone dies.”

  “Wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?” Wade didn’t even try to keep the disdain out of his tone. He used to look at this job differently. Used to think it didn’t matter who he protected, as long as he was successful.

  Now he wasn’t so sure.

  Shawn started up the shoveled sidewalk toward the porch, but stopped suddenly, turning to face them, his eyes trained on Wade. “Be nice to her. She’s been through a lot.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  Shawn’s head tipped to one side. “Come on, man. I heard you made Courtney cry.”

  “She was being fucking ridiculous.” He wasn’t being paid to go buy a twenty-year-old eyeliner at ten at night. “Someone was trying to kill her and she was treating us like her assistants.”

  Shawn let out a long breath. “Listen. I know lately you’ve been feeling a little...”

  “Pissy.” Brock finished the sentence before wrapping his arm around Shawn and turning him back toward the house. “He’ll be fine.”

  That wasn’t true. Wade hadn’t been fine in almost two years.

  Because two years ago he had a taste of all he was missing and it changed everything.

  One night and one woman had turned his whole world upside down and then set it on fire, leaving him to live in the burned-out remains of what might have been.

  He followed them up the steps and onto the covered porch where Shawn rang the bell before punching in the code to unlock the door. He and Brock walked in first, leaving Wade to close and lock the door behind them.

  When Wade turned around the woman occupying cabin number five was standing in the middle of the vaulted great room staring at him, her full lips barely parted, her hazel eyes wide.

  She was just as perfect as she was two years ago. Just as beautiful as the night she lit the match that incinerated his life.

  Wade took a step, blinking hard, thinking he had to be wrong.

  It couldn’t be her. Not here.

  But then she said a name. The name only one woman had ever called him. “Whitt?”

  It was a fake name. A way to ensure she would never be able to find him if she decided to look. Bringing people into his life wasn’t an option. It was too dangerous.

  But here she was. Brought to him by her own demons.

  Wade took another step toward her. He barely glanced at Brock and Shawn, shoving one finger toward the door. “Get out.”

  Carly—

  No.

  The woman he knew as Carly softly gasped as one hand went over her mouth. “This can’t be happening.”

  Wade knew he wasn’t the only one who used a fake name that night. For two years he wondered what her name really was.

  Now he knew. It wasn’t Carly Smith like she claimed. It was Bessie Hines.

  It fit her so much better.

  Wade dragged his eyes from Bess to glare at the two men still standing beside him. “I said get out. Now.”

  “Are you seri—”

  “Out.” He didn’t wait for them to stall any longer. Wade grabbed Brock by the shoulder of his coat and pulled him toward the door. “I’ll call you later.”

  He shoved the two men out the door and relocked it, taking a breath before turning back to the woman who changed his whole life in one night.

  She stood
perfectly still, one delicate hand covering her mouth, almost green eyes still wide with shock. She barely shook her head. “What are you doing here?”

  Wade started walking toward her. “Your father hired me to protect you.” His steps came faster, eating up the remaining space between them. Even then it felt like it took him forever to get to her.

  Because it had taken him forever to get to her.

  He grabbed her, pulling Bess tight against him, burying his face in her hair, never considering she might not feel like he did.

  That she might not have thought about him every night like he had her.

  That she didn’t wish every minute of every day that things could be different.

  That he hadn’t left.

  Bess. Her name was Bess.

  And she was here. With him.

  Finally.

  She collapsed against him, her small frame falling into his arms. “I can’t believe this.”

  He held her close, breathing in the unforgettable scent of her skin. He’d searched everywhere trying to find it, needing something to remind him that she was real, that she had been his, even if it was only for one night, but never once did Wade find anything even close to the warm jasmine scent filling his lungs.

  Her soft body suddenly went still in his arms, stiffening until she slowly pushed from his embrace. He let her go, even though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d waited so long, never thinking he would see her again.

  Always praying he would. That the same twist of fate that pulled them together once would do it again.

  And it had.

  But maybe Bess couldn’t forgive him for leaving her the way he did. Maybe what they shared hadn’t meant to her what it did to him.

  Wade held perfectly still, waiting.

  Bess took a shaky breath. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Is it about Chris?” He took a step closer, needing to be near her even if he couldn’t touch her. “I don’t care who you’ve been with, Bess. It doesn’t matter.”

  That was a lie. It did matter who she’d been with, but only because now Wade would have to kill the bastard who dared to hurt her. Chris Snyder had worse things to worry about than prison now. Now he should pray for the safety of a jail cell. It was all that would protect Bessie’s ex from the hell coming for him.