Wicked Nights
Wicked Nights
A. D. Justice
Contents
Untitled
Copyright
Books By A.D. Justice
Acknowledgments
1. CHAPTER ONE
2. CHAPTER TWO
3. CHAPTER THREE
4. CHAPTER FOUR
5. CHAPTER FIVE
6. CHAPTER SIX
7. CHAPTER SEVEN
8. CHAPTER EIGHT
9. CHAPTER NINE
10. CHAPTER TEN
11. CHAPTER ELEVEN
12. CHAPTER TWELVE
13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
14. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
16. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
18. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
19. CHAPTER NINETEEN
20. CHAPTER TWENTY
21. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
22. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
23. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EPILOGUE
CRAZY MAYBE By A.D. JUSTICE
Copyright
Dedication
CRAZY MAYBE CHAPTER ONE
CRAZY MAYBE CHAPTER TWO
CRAZY MAYBE CHAPTER THREE
About the Author
Steele Security, Book 3
A.D. JUSTICE
WICKED NIGHTS.
Copyright © 2015 A.D. Justice.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. If the location is an actual place, all details of said place are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to businesses, landmarks, living or dead people, and events is purely coincidental.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
All copyrights are held by A.D. Justice and have not been transferred to any other individual. Sharing or posting of this material in any group is considered copyright infringement and will be reported to the authorities. Criminal and civil charges will be pursued for damages.
Cover designed by Cover Me, Darling.
Cover photo licensed by DollarPhotoClub.com
ISBN: 978-0-9966576-0-0
ISBN: 978-0-9966576-0-0
Created with Vellum
Books By A.D. Justice
Steele Security Series
Wicked Games (Book 1)
Wicked Ties (Book 2)
Wicked Nights (Book 3)
Wicked Intentions (Book 4, Date TBD)
Wicked Shadows (Book 5, Date TBD)
The Crazy Series
Crazy Maybe (Book 1)
Crazy Baby (Book 2)
Crazy Love (Book 3, Date TBD)
Crazy Over You (Book 4, Date TBD)
Drive Me Crazy (Book 5, Date TBD)
Dominic Powers Series
Her Dom (Book 1)
Her Dom’s Lesson (Book 2)
Stand-alones
Completely Captivated (Stand-alone, Date TBD)
Just One Summer (Stand-alone Novella, August 2015)
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I want to thank my Lord and Savior for His continued forgiveness of a sinner.
To my husband: I love you! Thank you for putting up with the late nights, long weekends, and the less-than-stellar kept house. Writing the book didn’t help much with any of that, either. :)
To my street team: Y’all are the best! Thank you for being my beta readers, my sounding boards, my biggest supporters, and the best all-around people in the world. Love all of you!
To my readers: Thank you for taking a chance on a new indie author! I love hearing from everyone, so stop by my page and say hello.
To my assistant: Tabitha Charisse, thank you for all your help and support. You are very much appreciated.
To my BFFs: I don’t know how I managed to do anything right before I met the best friends anyone could ever ask for. A.M. Madden and Michelle Dare, I love both of you!
To the bloggers: None of this would be possible without your help, support, and tireless pimping! I love everyone in this great group of people! I can’t name one without naming everyone because you’ve all been so helpful and wonderful friends.
1
CHAPTER ONE
Ten Years Earlier
“Eyes on target,” Reaper whispered into his comm.
The rest of the Delta Force team remained in place with their muscles tensed and ready to move when the command was issued.
“Big Eye, Reaper. Can you confirm friendlies are still in the southwest corner of the compound?” Reaper asked into the handheld radio to the reconnaissance plane that flew overhead.
“Roger that, Reaper. Thermals show five stationary warm bodies, one in motion inside the room¸ and one stationary outside the door.”
“Copy that. Going dark. Reaper out.”
He pressed the microphone button on his neck to talk to his team on the ground. “Positions.”
One word was all it took for Bull, Rebel, and Shadow to move quickly into their places. They moved silently across the grounds to surround the area where the hostages were held. The houses inside the compound were all connected by doorways or covered breezeways, obviously built over time as the need to expand arose. They were constructed of a mixture of sunbaked mud and clay brick, with flat roofs and very few windows. As they covered the major entryways of the house, each man alerted their leader when he was in place and ready to take control of the situation.
When the news first broke that hostile insurgents had taken five American contractors hostage, Reaper knew his team would soon be called to intercede. The terrorists were demanding the release of one of their leaders in exchange for the five American men they currently held. For every day the government waited to make the exchange, the extremists vowed they’d behead one of the hostages. Reaper’s team specialized in getting in and out of secure places, safely extracting the hostages, and effectively disabling the resistance.
When everyone was in place, Reaper gave the one-word command. “Go.”
With his weapon drawn, each man crept silently through the dark in his assigned hallway until the four met in the back corner of the house. As they reached the last turn, they prepared to meet the resistance waiting for them. Rebel took his position, crouching low to the ground, ready to cover Reaper when he bolted to the opposite wall. Shadow and Bull prepared to move into similar positions immediately after the initial foe was incapacitated.
Like the well-oiled machine they’d trained to be, they executed their plan flawlessly. When the guard saw Reaper step into the hallway, his brain barely had time to register the shock before Rebel’s double-tap took him out. Shadow and Bull moved into the lead positions as they continued to the door. Shouting in Arabic, followed by painful yelps, alerted the team that their enemies inside the hostage room were aware of their presence. Three men took their places on either side of the door, and then Shadow hit the door with a well-placed kick. He quickly jumped to the right side of the door, out of the way before the men inside the room opened fire.
The location of the bullet spray in the mud bricks across the hall gave the men a good indication of the enemies’ locations inside the room. Rebel and Bull faced each other before one took the high position and the other took the lower one. As the guys swung around the doorframe with their weapons drawn, the guards were disarmed with minimal effort.
The team moved fully into the r
oom, completed their full sweep, and untied the hostages. “US Army,” Reaper introduced himself. “Is anyone injured?”
“Not bad. I can walk,” one man answered. The others replied that they weren’t injured.
Reaper pointed to the man who was obviously stronger than the others. “You stay with him—” he pointed to the slightly wounded man “—right behind me. We move at the speed of the weakest person.” He finished giving the instructions on how each hostage would follow them out so that a member of the team covered each man.
“Big Eye, Reaper,” he said into the radio. “Recovered. Exiting with five.”
“Copy that, Reaper,” came the reply. “Eyes on you.”
Reaper transferred the connection from the handset to the speaker in his helmet so the recon plane could easily communicate with him. The group of men formed a line and began their withdrawal from the compound. The echo of heavy footfalls and voices became louder from the direction in which they were headed.
The voice in his helmet alerted him. “Reaper, Big Eye. Multiple hostiles are blocking your current route. Turn left at the next intersection. Proceed to the window. Extraction team being relocated.”
“Copy,” Reaper replied and proceeded on the updated route. Slinging his gun over his shoulder by the strap, he picked up a chair and busted a pane of the glass of the small panel window. Once the shards were cleared, he placed the chair in front of the window and motioned for Bull to go first. “Cover.”
Bull nodded and deftly moved through the open window to take his place outside. “Men approaching,” he said quietly into his comm.
“Big Eye, Reaper. Confirm extraction team location.”
“Reaper, the team is less than half a klick from your current location.”
“Copy,” he replied.
He relayed the information to Bull as he helped the first hostage through the window. Rebel and Shadow remained in position with their rifles at the ready as Reaper fed the remaining men through the small opening.
“Your turn, ladies,” Reaper said to Rebel and Shadow.
“Age before beauty.” Shadow smirked at Rebel and jerked his head toward the exit.
“I’ll be waiting on the other side of that wall to kick your ass,” Rebel chuckled as he climbed out nimbly.
“You’re up, big guy,” Reaper said.
Shadow shouldered his weapon and followed Rebel. “Let’s go, Reaper. Playtime is over,” Shadow said from outside the window.
“Reaper, Big Eye. Multiple hostiles approaching your location. Take cover.”
As Reaper started to turn toward the window, the first of the combatants turned the corner and spotted him. The hostile raised his rifle and took his aim at Reaper. A shot rang out and the man crumpled to the floor before he could squeeze the trigger. Reaper stepped on the chair and dove through the window, landed on his hands, and rolled in a somersault to lessen the force of his landing. Rebel simultaneously moved to cover the team, his rifle trained on the small opening.
As more men entered the hallway, Rebel squeezed the trigger of his automatic rifle. One by one, one insurgent after another fell to the floor.
“Let’s go,” Reaper yelled to the hostages.
They began their trek across the compound grounds toward the back wall. Armed men began pouring out of multiple doorways behind them. The men yelled curses in Arabic as they ran toward the fleeing hostages. Rebel turned and began to fire his weapon, hitting his mark repeatedly as he covered the team and hostages. One man fell from Rebel’s covering fire, but he was still determined to kill the American infidels who had defiled his residence. While lying on his stomach, he raised his rifle with his bloody hands and tried to steady his shaking arms.
He fired his gun and the bullet whizzed by Rebel’s head, way too close for comfort. The close proximity of the bullet to his head only fueled Rebel’s anger. He turned his gun back to the wounded man and returned fire. The bullet struck the man in the head and left a gruesome, gaping wound in its wake.
A portable tactical ladder suddenly appeared over the wall, and Reaper directed the hostages to it while he and the other men provided covering fire. Several members of the extraction team climbed over the wall and moved into position in the yard, helping deter more armed opponents from approaching them. Once everyone was safely over the wall, they ran to the waiting helicopters and were safely lifted out.
Tears of joy and gratitude flowed down the faces of the rescued men. Rounds of sincere “thanks” and “thank you so much” were repeated over and over as the weight of reality set in. They were so very grateful to be going home to their families. Happy, healthy, and largely uninjured, thoughts of what could have been played through their thoughts and sent shivers down their spines.
In the courtyard of the terrorist compound, two young boys left the safety of the darkness and approached the corpse of the man who had kept shooting even after he’d been injured. The eldest of the two dropped to his knees beside the body, then dropped his pistol as his knees struck the dirt. Tears formed tracks over his cheeks through the dust that had collected on his face.
“I’m sorry, Father,” he said to the lifeless man. “I failed you. I’m your firstborn, and I failed to do my duty.”
The younger brother placed his hand on the older one’s shoulder. He was young, but he inherently understood the despair his brother felt. Family honor had been instilled in them since birth. Following orders, making their father proud, and taking a stand for their country weren’t just ideals they talked about around the dinner table. The two boys had lived it every day of their young lives.
“Orphaned at barely thirteen,” the older one said aloud. “It’s all my fault.”
2
CHAPTER TWO
September - Current Day
The end of summer was marred by a different kind of ending. The rounds of chemotherapy and radiation therapy had begun to take their toll on the elder Steele man. The cancer that had weakened his body progressed rapidly, and the toxic treatments had a hard time keeping up with the new cell growth. The chances of improvement had begun to dwindle, and the doctors were forced to consider Steve’s other options.
“Mr. Steele, it doesn’t appear the treatment is working as well as we hoped we it would,” Dr. Patel began. “It may be time for you and your wife to start discussing your final wishes, what lengths you’re willing to go to for treatment, and at what point you want to stop treatment altogether.”
Sara’s soft whimpers were the only sound in the room. Steve stared at the wall straight ahead of him as he processed the bad news. Noah and Brianna sat beside Sara, both unable to string a few words together into a coherent response. Colton and Chaise sat on the other side of the bed, with Chaise holding Steve’s hand while tears streamed down her face unchecked.
“Thank you, Dr. Patel. Sara and I will discuss it,” Steve finally spoke.
Dr. Patel nodded and, before leaving the room, said, “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I’m sorry to be the bearer of such bad news. We will keep hoping for a significant change soon.”
Steve and Sara both nodded at Dr. Patel in appreciation before Sara leaned over and laid her head on Steve’s shoulder. Her tears dripped onto the sleeve of his hospital gown until it was soaked all the way through to his skin. She slowly started moving her head from side to side and muttering, “No. No. No.”
“No!” she screamed before the sobs racked her body and her cries became long, guttural moans.
Steve maneuvered until his arm wrapped around her body, and he gently pulled her closer to him. Crawling up on the bed, Sara laid down beside Steve, wrapped her arm around him, and they simply held each other in their shared pain. Through all the ups and downs in their marriage and their family, one thing had remained constant: at the end of it all, their love was still as strong as steel.
“Dad,” Chaise choked out, “we’ll get a second opinion. Dr. Patel is great, but he could be wrong.”
Steve shook his h
ead. “He’s the best, baby girl. He’s not wrong. I had to stop my treatment a few days ago because of the severe reactions. They put me on IV rehydration for a while. If my body can’t tolerate the treatment, there’s nothing to keep the cancer in check.
“I plan on sticking around for a few more months anyway, so I can die a happy man. I’m going to hold my first grandbaby,” he said as he looked at Noah and Brianna. Then he looked at Chaise and Bull, “And I’m going to walk my baby girl down the aisle to give her away to an honorable man who loves her. Most of all, I’ll die a happy man knowing my family is whole again, and you’ll all be at my side when I go.
“Sara.” He paused as she raised her head from his chest. “I’m ready to get out of this hospital and go home now.”
“Dad,” Noah spoke then cleared his throat. “Are you sure that’s really a good idea?”
“We’ve already talked about my options for home health care, son. I’ll have around-the-clock nurses so your mom can still just spend time with me,” Steve explained. “It’s hard on her being at the hospital all the time.”
“It’s not just that, Dad. There has to be something else we can do.” Noah’s exasperation filled his voice.
Steve smiled at Noah. “I appreciate your concern more than you’ll ever know, son. But, I’d rather spend my remaining days with my family, at home and comfortable. I’ll still go for chemotherapy and radiation as long as I can, with home health care to help us out with the extra care at home.”
Sara left the room to find Dr. Patel and arrange for her husband’s discharge home. The weight on her heart was heavy as she walked the hospital corridor. Thinking that this could be their last trip home together threatened to knock her to her knees. She drew her strength from deep inside as her legs carried her forward until she found Dr. Patel. She approached him with a lump in her throat, inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly.