Chapter 12

Kellan Polizzi gutted out one last pull-up, the muscles in his arms burning like a five-alarm fire. Slowly, slowly his head inched over the bar. It was by sheer will that he managed the feat since his arms were the consistency of lime Jell-O. He’d broken his personal best of ninety-five. He dropped to the ground, his arms dangling uselessly at his sides.

“One hundred. Great job, Polizzi,” Dante Costa praised.

“Thanks. Torquemada,” he added under his breath but Costa heard and chuckled. Kellan liked the man when he first met him. Now he considered him to be an evil torture master. He’d forced, coerced and pushed Kellan’s body past any limits he’d thought existed. He’d been in great shape before, having spent the last eight years as first a cop and then a detective. He’d joined the academy out of college, which he attended on a basketball scholarship. But Dante Costa made him see that he wasn’t in great shape before. Now he was. The former SEAL had fine-tuned Kellan’s body into a lean, mean, fit, fighting machine.

He’d added a solid twenty pounds to his frame, all rock-solid muscle. His body fat percentage was miniscule. He felt better than he had when he played college ball. Reluctantly, he had to give Costa all the credit. He amended that thought in his head. Not so reluctantly. He truly liked the other man. Admired him and all his coworkers, a far cry from being on the police force where personalities clashed and people constantly butted heads.

He'd first crossed paths with COBRA Securities a few months ago when one of their agents, Hillary Billings, now Steele, had been vacationing in a rental home on the Outer Banks of North Carolina where he served on the force. Former pro baseball player and current television star Reed Steele had been on the island to renovate a house next door to the one Hillary and her dog Kota were staying. A killer hadn’t wanted Reed to renovate the house, and several attempts were made on his life.

He liked his job as a detective, but the red tape and office politics took a toll. He loved living on the coast, but he could do without the busy tourist season, which seemed to get longer each year. And the hurricanes. They were becoming more frequent, too. Hillary had told him all about her company and urged him to consider applying. He hadn’t thought seriously about it until Wade Ruggle had been named the new chief, replacing Herm Shelton when he retired. Shelton hadn’t been an easy man to work for, but he was honest and he was fair. The same couldn’t be said about Ruggle. He was cruel and vindictive and unabashedly racist. Kellan had no desire to take orders from him. As soon as he heard the announcement, he’d picked up the card Hillary left for him and called. She’d put him through to her boss Logan Bradley. After chatting for a few minutes, Logan wanted to interview him with his partner, Luke Colton. They sent their plane to pick him up and he spent the entire flight talking to Wyatt Hollister, an agent and pilot. He’d met Wyatt before when he flew supplies to Hillary. The interview went well, and he’d been overjoyed when they offered him a position, contingent on him passing Dante Costa’s tests on physical fitness and shooting accuracy.

He’d passed the shooting test with no problem. He trained hard at the range to hone his skills. He’d even passed Dante’s preliminary physical exam, though he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk in the morning. He’d been officially offered the job, but he’d need more training with Dante before they allowed him in the field.

Wyatt had flown him back and he’d headed straight to the station. He walked into the chief’s office and tendered his resignation. Ruggle barely acknowledged him so he’d stormed away and cleaned out his desk. A few of the other officers were disappointed he was leaving, especially Dana Deluca, whom he’d shared a brief but passionate fling. She stopped by his condo as he was packing up later that evening and when her attempts to convince him to stay failed, she sent him away with a proper goodbye that lasted all night long.

His bosses offered him an apartment within the complex and he assumed it’d be similar to the dorm he stayed in his freshman and sophomore years at Maryland. He’d been blown away when he stepped inside. It was better than a luxury hotel room. His unit was a one bedroom, so he didn’t have to get used to a roommate along with his new job.

Now as he stretched his sore muscles, he was proud of what he’d accomplished. He couldn’t wait for his first assignment.

#

Cassidy was positively giddy on the drive to her apartment. Some of it might’ve been attributed to the enormous margaritas she and Harlow imbibed. But mostly, it was the company. Though her brain knew it wasn’t a double-date, it felt like one. She’d had so much fun talking and laughing with her new friends. She glanced over at Mason, his profile strong and sure. She wanted to be more than friends with him. He caught her staring and his lips curved. Her heart actually flipped in her chest. She had such a crush on her bodyguard.

As he pulled into her parking lot, she felt a stab of guilt that she hadn’t invited Colin to dine with them, but she hadn’t seen him since the interview. He’d been in his element, telling jokes and charming the interviewer, Denise, who was a tough nut to crack on the best of days. Colin had been dropping hints about getting a shot on the next season and she didn’t know if that was possible, given his injury. She’d love for Bryan to leave, or maybe Marcus. But it might grate on her to have Colin so close again. In the years they’d been apart, he’d become possessive and clingy. She couldn’t understand why he’d been so upset walking in on her and Mason. Nothing had happened, but he didn’t know that, and he’d acted hurt. She didn’t necessarily buy into Mason’s theory that Colin had romantic feelings for her. She’d never gotten that vibe from him. Their relationship had always been like brother and sister.

Mason angled into one of the visitor spaces, with Sawyer parking his SUV beside them. The men gathered the boxes of supplies that had been delivered to the studio while she and Harlow climbed the steps.

She had her key out, ready to slide it into the lock when Mason instructed her to stop. He slid the heavy box to the ground and then took it from her hand. “I go first, always.”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted him and then broke down giggling with Harlow. Her tequila buzz was a happy one. Mason narrowed his eyes amusedly then turned to the door.

She wiped tears and said, “Colin should be back by now.” As soon as Mason opened the door, a nauseating odor wafted from inside. She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Ugh, what is that?” All the chips and salsa she’d consumed threatened to make a reappearance.

Mason had drawn his gun and her eyes widened when she realized Sawyer had, too. They were focused and intent, clearly in work mode. What was going on?

“Come inside and lock the door, but you two stay right there,” Sawyer ordered.

Any lingering effects from the margarita fled in an instant. Then she noticed the feet protruding from the end of the sofa.

“Colin must be asleep,” she told Harlow. “How can he stand that smell?”

When Harlow didn’t answer, Cassidy glanced at her. The look on her face made Cassidy’s stomach crash to her feet. “What?”

Sawyer and Mason returned from the bedroom and moved in front of the couch. Mason’s mouth tightened.

“Damn,” Sawyer murmured.

Mason threw up a hand in a stop gesture. “Don’t come any closer.” His harsh command and grim look didn’t stop her. Her legs moved forward of their own volition. Dread filled her at what she would see. Harlow caught up with her and grabbed her arm, offering support as they peered over the back of the couch.

“Oh my God,” she cried.

Harlow gasped. “Marcus!”