Keeping Ava Read online

  Keeping Ava (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha)

  Elena M. Reyes

  Contents

  Foreword

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Elena M. Reyes

  More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books

  Books by Susan Stoker

  About the book

  I should have said no:

  When they asked me to take over this assignment and protect her with my life.

  When at the sight of her, my heart beat like a war drum inside my chest.

  When those light green eyes met mine and the world stopped.

  I should’ve—but didn’t.

  And now it’s too late because I’ve broken the rules and tasted the forbidden fruit.

  I’ll never let her go.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  © 2019 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

  Cover design by: C.M. Steele

  Editor: Marti Lynch

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Police and Fire: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!

  If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.

  This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.

  I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!

  READ ON!

  Xoxo

  Susan Stoker

  Chapter 1

  Ava

  That Night…

  “Jesus, it’s hot,” I whisper under my breath, walking down an empty street toward my home. It’s late. The area is quiet at this time of night, and I decide at the very last minute to take a shortcut—to walk through a dirt road—between my block and the two that follow near the back end of the street.

  My home sits at the center of my street, and while I usually avoid poorly lit areas, I’ll be home quicker if I cross in between. Just two more streets, and my poor, tired body will be able to crash for the day.

  In the silence of the night, an owl hoots and I look up to see him perched along the power line. He’s watching, creepily, head slightly to the side as I pass beneath him. My footsteps on the ground are nearly as loud, and yet, when a woman’s screams rent the air suddenly, I freeze. The sound is bone chilling, and fear takes over my limbs as everything around me goes still. Quiet.

  The hell? I cock my head, leaning back a bit to see if another sound follows, but I’m met with nothing. A deathly nothing. An eerie nothing.

  “Keep walking, Ava. It’s just your imagination messing with you.” I force myself to take a step, and then another, cursing my newest shop assistant for burning two trays of muffins until they were nothing but a charred crisp. The incident/disaster has taught me two valuable lessons today:

  Cleaning trays with burned bananas is a nightmare.

  That, and walking home along an empty road is idiotic, especially on a night where it seems the neighborhood is desolate. Where is everyone?

  “Come on. Just a little bit…fuck.” It leaves me on a gasp when a crash sounds nearby and another cry of pain follows. My eyes shift around, and I notice there’s only two houses near this end—what looks to be a cul-de-sac—and the lot beside me on the left is empty.

  Moreover, the overgrowth partially blocks my view past that.

  My hand trembles as I pull out an old cell phone from my pocket, and even more so when I dial 911. An operator answers, asking me how he can help, but words evade me.

  “Please stop!” the woman being attacked yells out, and my chest grows tight. It’s painful to breathe.

  “Shut the fuck up,” another voice hisses, and the echo of a hard smack comes next. She sobs, the cries becoming louder, and I can’t explain why it sounds as if they are closer. “You deserve this and so much more.”

  Oh God. I begin to shake because I know this voice. The low timbre conjures images of him coming into my shop. Of him asking me on a date.

  Telling me that one day I would be his…

  “Is someone there? Please don’t hang up,” the operator begs, and I nod, letting out a low whimper as another strike meets my ears. More pleas from this woman. His sick laughter. “Help is on the way. Don’t move.”

  However, I don’t listen.

  Unbeknownst to me, I’m walking toward them. Close enough that the smell of garbage hits my senses, and I crinkle my nose. The old home dead center on this cul-de-sac is where the noise comes from; I’ve seen this place a few times and have never given it a second look. It’s nothing special.

  A company’s truck sits in the driveway, though, and a small flicker of light comes from a partially open window near the right side. There’s no gate to block my entry, and I don’t stop until I’m standing beneath it and rising onto the tip of my toes.

  At once, my eyes close and the world becomes a muffled sound.

  I’m afraid. Probably stupid. Not ready, but what if I can save…

  Another blood-curdling scream. Another dark chuckle.

  My eyes snapped open, and the scene before me causes my throat to seize. There’s so much blood, and the woman looks to be near unconsciousness. There are several cuts down her tied arms and one across her upper chest—they don’t look deep, but her life’s essence flows down her flesh in little rivulets of pain.

  “Your life for hers. Consider yourself useful, sweetheart.” Jason sweeps a finger down her cheek before placing both hands at her throat. Her body thrashes, and everything around me comes back into focus—a sharp smack to my senses.

  I scream.

  The sound is loud and full of the utter fear coursing through my veins. Panic claws its way through my limbs, and his face snaps in my direction, eyes dark and lips curling into a demonic sneer.

  “Ava,” he hisses and rushes to what I can only assume is the front door. My eyes shift to the woman, and I see that her chest is still rising. It’s slow, but she’s alive and that’s all that matters. If I can keep him away until the cops… “Where the fuck are you, love?”

  “Get here quick, or you’ll have two dead bodies,” I choke on a whisper and take off toward the back of his home. It’s dark and I can barely see, but I don’t stop. He’s cursing and coming clo
ser—his shoes sound heavy, stomping on the grass as he makes his way toward the back.

  With my phone still connected to the call, I light the way, stumbling over an old axe and lawn care equipment. There’s nothing blocking the back, and I scramble over a riding mower to enter another small overgrowth that I crawl into. The thorns of this bush scratch my skin; it stings, and I can feel the few drops of blood sliding down my arm as I move deeper inside and hide within the tall grass.

  I’m lucky that the faint sound of leaves rustling is masked by his heavy footfalls and the sudden rush of a scared cat running.

  Large trees are up ahead, just a few feet away, when he whispers my name and I still. “Where did my beautiful Miss Ava go? Come out, and I’ll play nice.” His shoes crunch on old leaves or garbage—who knows—and I bite down hard on my lip to keep in the scream that wants to escape. I don’t turn around, but know he is very close. Jason takes another step, and his shadow looms near when sirens wail. They too are close, and he kicks something that sounds like metal near him. “You’ll pay for this, baby.”

  Car doors open and close. He doesn’t move.

  The sound of his door being kicked in comes next, and someone yells for help—for an ambulance. He doesn’t move.

  Multiple lights move throughout the backyard, focusing on him as feet pound on the ground coming toward us.

  He doesn’t move, but I know he sees me now. How close he was to me.

  “Hands up and drop to your knees,” a man yells from behind us, guns cocked. Still nothing, but I feel him. His eyes burning into my flesh. Eating me alive. “On the ground now!”

  At that moment, I look back and our eyes lock a second before his knees are taken out from behind. He falls near me but can’t react when three officers grab him and force his hands behind his back.

  Jason is in handcuffs before I can blink.

  He’s being pulled up and searched as someone offers me their hand up.

  And through it all, his eyes never leave me. Not once. There’s no anger in them, which I find odd; instead, what he gives me is a slimy smirk. His cold, dark eyes are happy.

  “Are you okay, Miss?” a female officer asks, but I can’t answer, frozen in fear once more as Jason mouths the words:

  I’ll come for you.

  A Few Months Later…

  My life will never be the same.

  How can it be?

  I’ve gone from owning a quaint little café in downtown Lubbock, to being on the run.

  From having friends and a life of my own, to absolutely nothing. In the blink of an eye, I’ve had no choice but to disappear. No goodbyes.

  I was taken from my home in the middle of the night and told to follow instructions. To go with a man I don’t know and trust that he’ll keep me safe until we meet my next handler a few states away. From Lubbock to San Antonio—I’ve been hiding there for the past three months because that’s where his trial is set to be. They keep me out of the public eye, too, and away from reporters who are desperate for the inside scoop.

  Then, there are also the morbid fans. Those that find this sort of sickness fascinating enough to try to contact me.

  And yet, it’s still not a secure enough place for me. It’s why I now find myself being driven toward San Diego without a choice in the matter.

  Three cities.

  Each with more than one life taken by this monster.

  The more his depravity comes to light, the more I realize it’s my fault. His fascination isn’t new; it began when we were teens, but I never thought he’d do something like this. Hurt others because of me.

  To me he was just a jerk with a wounded ego. That’s it.

  All because I’ve always turned him down.

  Because I’ve never told a soul how uncomfortable and pushy he’s always been. About the one time he—

  “We’ll be there shortly,” the Texas Ranger says from beside me inside his large black pickup. It’s a short statement like all the others before, but not rude. Not in the least. Weston has been kind—more than generous—in taking on the last-minute responsibility of bringing me to my next destination.

  Moreover, I know his disposition has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the woman he kissed goodbye before we left the station. Watching them—the love, how tender he was with his wife—made me think of what I’ll never have.

  Not for a while. Maybe never.

  Not with the fear that grips me tight at the knowledge that my worst nightmare could be anywhere. Maybe in the car behind us already following. Biding his time so he can take from me what I never gave him willingly.

  “Thanks. Can’t wait to stretch my legs,” I say, trying for enthusiasm and failing miserably. My palms are sweaty, and I wipe them down my denim-covered legs while pretending to clean something off. “It’s very pretty here.”

  Weston looks over at me, giving me a quick glance, and then nods to himself. “The detective in charge of your protection lives near the water. We could stop there first if you like. Get some fresh air?”

  “That’s very kind of you, but I would rather we just get this over with.” I’m sure the smile on my face looks more like a grimace, but he’s kind enough not to mention it. My nerves are choking me, the worry almost making me sick.

  It’s been seventy-two hours since Jason escaped police custody, hence the sudden change in the game plan that morphed into a secret race very few are participating in. We’ve gone from conviction to recapture while playing a game of hide-the-witness.

  It’s also brought back the nightmares. The horrific movie reel of that night that never ceases to keep me awake. Her screams. His laugh. All the blood—

  I’ll come for you...

  “You’ll be okay, Ava.” Weston sounds so sure of himself that I don’t have the heart to tell him what I really think. That at this point my hope is almost gone. “Safe here.”

  “May the good Lord hear you,” I mumble under my breath and refocus on the scenery around me. My eyes shift every few minutes, looking at the cars passing and praying that Jason isn’t inside any of them. Some look at us, but most just continue to drive on by as they maneuver through the busy traffic that this state is known for.

  And they weren’t lying. California is everything you see on television: lively, busy, and beautifully scary to me because it represents the unknown. I don’t know anyone here. I feel alone.

  Weston lowers the windows then, letting in the salty, fresh air coming off the water nearby. It’s gorgeous, a warm shade of bluish green that soothes me, seeping deep into my bones.

  Closing my eyes for a second, I breathe in deeply, in and out, sagging against the seat as the ranger drives us toward the detective’s home. For a little while I let go and regain control of my breathing—pretend that this is a vacation and not a forced seclusion.

  I don’t know how long I stay that way, but his hand nudging my shoulder pulls me from my semi-relaxed state. “We’re here.” His voice is low, while his expression is one of concern.

  “Thanks.” Taking my seatbelt off, I get down from his truck while taking inventory of my surroundings. The building before me is huge. Intimidating. And yet, as we enter the fancy lobby and get on the elevator, there’s no fear. Instead, the same sense of calm that settled over me as I took in the fresh scent of salt water comes over my tired limbs tenfold.

  It catches me off guard, makes my knees a bit weak, but I stay quiet. Maybe it’s the exhaustion taking over, or my lack of appetite showing its effects, but when we get off on the twenty-fourth floor, I have to force my legs to cooperate and walk.

  One foot after the other, I follow a quiet Weston down a long hallway after making a right turn. There, at the very end, is a door with the number seven on it where he stops. Tilts his head in my direction. “You ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  “For what it’s worth, Elijah Ford comes with high praise and is familiar with this case. If anyone can keep you safe, it’s him. Trust him.” My mou
th opens to reply, to tell him that I’ve heard this from someone I trust, when his phone rings. Weston smiles, the first real one I’ve seen since we left Lubbock, as he turns to look at me. “It’s my wife. Be right back.”

  “No…” he walks away before I can finish, pushing the doorbell on his way “…problem.”

  For a few seconds, I stand there, and nothing. So, I knock. Hard.

  I don’t like being out in the open like this, and my escort has disappeared around the corner, so I pound my fist a couple of times to make sure I’m heard. It takes a few harsh knocks from me and the push of the buzzer for that door to open, and when it does, what I find is heart stopping.

  I’m in trouble.

  Chapter 2

  Elijah

  This is a mistake.

  That thought runs through my mind—a nonstop loop of forewarning as Captain Perez fills me in on my next assignment. But that can’t be right. This has to be some kind of a joke.

  It sounds like guard duty, but I’m not a babysitter—even if it is for a case that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

  “She’ll be in your care until he’s caught and sentenced,” he says, as if telling me the weather report and not about the crap job I’ve been given. “We need her in that courtroom, Ford. Her testimony alone will put him away for a very long time, if not the rest of his life.”