Chapter One
Hawk
Fate was a vengeful bitch who didn’t like to be denied.
Head tilted, I aligned my dominant eye with the rifle’s sight, keeping both open to provide a full picture of the scene before me. With a few adjustments to the scope, I accounted for the mild wind and climate. The low roof ledge before me stabilized and supported the weight of my weapon, eliminating the risk of horizontal sway—not that I anticipated the need for accuracy in this scouting exercise, but old habits died hard.
In position, I waited. Across from my three-story San Francisco apartment building, I locked onto the top floor unit next door. Through the unadorned windows, I saw two people inside. I wanted—no, needed—to see what was happening and if he was a threat.
My goal wasn’t to pull the trigger, to wound, or to kill. Not yet, anyway. It was a stakeout to gather additional intel. I knew my next move would become clear soon, and if necessary, I would take action.
The sun dipped low on the horizon, and heavy clouds kept the moon and stars from casting their glow. The neighborhood was an improvement from where I’d grown up. California evenings were pleasant, not too cold or hot. I held still, lying flat and taking slow even breaths. Watching. Waiting.
I’d planted a bug. I made a slight adjustment, and the volume increased in my earpiece. The conversation between the man and woman hadn’t escalated. So far, nothing new had been revealed.
I’d tried to stay out of my neighbor’s business and to ignore the yelling from the place next door, but I couldn’t. Ugly, shrill tones of desperation had dripped from the man as he demanded money. Through the wall between our units, his intent was crystal clear, and when I heard his words, an avalanche of unwanted memories from my past bombarded me.
One in particular was the reason why I found myself with my rifle pointed at the man in her apartment—I needed a visual of the situation. And just like that, too many of the feelings from when I was young broke through the box I tried to keep them stuffed into.
The ones who had raised me weren’t good people. Part of me knew that wasn’t what mattered. Mom had done what little she could for me in a horrible situation. Her effort didn’t equal what I needed, what any kid would have wanted. My life had been all I knew, and I didn’t think I had options even in my last moments living with them.
Different scenarios of what could’ve happened played through my mind. I swallowed back bile as the sounds of my mom’s screams broke free from unwanted memories that I thought I’d locked away. I could have snuck out, gone to the neighbors’ house, or waited for the police to come. It weighed on me, and it always would. I swore that day that I would do everything I could to help another person in a similar situation.
But no longer was I five years old or even eleven, helpless in the face of neglect and abuse. My life was my own. I’d shaped my destiny.
A flash of red passed by one of the three windows, yanking me back to reality. There was something about my neighbor that kept me close. In my mind, I called her Red, mainly due to the color of her wavy shoulder-length hair. If it hadn’t been for Red, I would have been back in Maine with the guys. But I’d stayed in hopes of meeting her.
I wasn’t sure why I thought I had a chance with her. There was someone in her life already, a blond man I’d seen a time or two in the hallway. His intent concerned me.
Red cared about the man she frequently fought with. I could hear it in her voice and in the words she chose, even though she was as loud as he was. The arguing had increased in duration and intensity, his visits to her place more frequent. Red’s words lacked the edge present in his. I’d heard enough over the past few days to realize things were coming to a head. It was time to act.
I peered through my rifle’s scope, tracking them as they shouted at one another, visible more often than not in the three windows that faced west.
If nothing else, I was watching to see if he was physically abusive, and I vowed to pull her out fast if he was. It didn’t matter that we didn’t know one another or that her problems weren’t mine. In a sense, they were. I’d lived a portion of the destructive loop they argued about, which was why my past kept getting triggered.
A soft buzz vibrated in my ear before I pressed a button on my phone to answer the incoming call. It was Jack, our unofficial leader of the Gray Ghost team. With my Bluetooth in place, I didn’t need to move more than my finger to connect the call.
However, it would affect my accuracy if I needed to fire a shot. Any movement shifted the reticle I looked through. I could handle steadying my sight if the need arose. It was more a recon stakeout than anything else—I hoped.
After a quick hello, I set in motion the direction I wanted our conversation to go based on my current position. “What do you know about the woman in the apartment next to ours?”
There was a pause. “The one with the red hair who recently moved in?”
“Yep.” Got her. Red walked by the window again and leaned against the frame, her hair cascading around a face that had stopped me in my tracks the first time I saw her. She was stunning, with oceanic eyes, more blue than green, high cheekbones, and a full, kissable mouth. Whenever I’d caught her in the hallway, even in those fleeting moments, tension—the good kind—had crackled in the air.
“Not sure. I’ve only passed her once in the hall.” Jack chuckled. “Is that why you stayed?”
“Maybe.”
I could see the door that led out of her place as she walked toward it, motioning for the guy to leave. What the hell is going on there?
“What are you doing?” The skepticism in Jack’s voice carried loud and clear through my earbud.
“Nothing. There’s been a lot of yelling going on in her apartment. I’m checking it out.”
“By ‘checking it out,’ do you mean you’re watching her through the scope of your rifle?”
I paused. “No comment.”
She opened the door, but the blond guy ignored the hint to leave. When he turned away from her, I got a clear view of him: maybe six feet tall judging by where her head reached his chin, with light hair, short on the sides and longer on top. He was the one I’d seen around before. Each time he’d visited, arguments inevitably followed. “Look, I’ve got to go. The boyfriend or husband is back.”
“You bugged the place, didn’t you?” Jack’s tone was flat.
“What the hell would you expect?” Her window had been open one day, and I climbed over to her balcony and slipped a tiny mic inside. “Ask the others if they know anything about her.”
“Yeah… I’m on it.”
I disconnected before Jack could say anything further. He would have done the same damn thing, although he probably wouldn’t scope out the situation through the sight of a sniper’s rifle.
Red and the blond weren’t arguing like before. Even so, I wanted a clear picture of their physical reactions.
I repositioned my scope so I could see her better. Their voices trickled into my ear. I tensed as he scooped her into what looked like a stiff hug then stepped away. His hand slipped into his pocket. When he pulled it out, he held something.
“What’s that?” Her inquisitive voice teased my ear. I narrowed my eye, trying to see what he held, but she’d turned, and the object wasn’t visible.
The guy flashed her a grin then stepped back, putting distance between them. “I thought you’d like it, because it’s jewelry, and you know…” He motioned to a table I couldn’t quite see. I only caught the far edge of it from this range.
She turned the object over as she examined it from another angle. “The etchings are pretty. They look familiar.”
“That’s because they’re edelweiss flowers. It’s not worth much, but I saw it and thought of you. I knew they’d remind you of our family.”
She smiled, and my gut tightened, not liking the look she directed to the blond. “I love it, Max. Thank you.”
Now he has a name.
She slipped the item on one finger after the other. A ring. Finally, she unclasped a long necklace that hung around her neck and added the ring there. At least it’s not on her finger.
I couldn’t figure out why I cared. The woman had me turned all around. When I passed her in the hallway, I struggled every time with wanting to talk to her. Her vanilla and cinnamon scent drove me wild. It filled the hall and wrapped around me as I brushed by her. Our brief passing greetings did nothing to satisfy the obsession I’d developed for her.
No other woman had interested me as she had. My attraction for her was instant, immediate, and unfamiliar in its intensity.
I wanted to know what caused Red to chew on her plump bottom lip and why she rubbed at her heart on occasion with a faraway look in her eyes. I wanted to know her, and that thought alone was a foreign one. She drew me in, and for once in my life, I didn’t want to resist.
I didn’t allow myself to get close to people. It was easier to associate only with the guys I’d grown up with. They were more family to me than my blood ever was.
A brisk wind blew, and I held still with my sight trained on them. Not a lot was happening, though. My mind drifted. What the hell am I doing? I was lucky, and I knew it. Adding a woman into the mix would complicate things. I wasn’t equipped to deal with the turmoil, and I never had been. That’s why I always kept things casual. No strings. No dates.
But Red, she was different. And whoever this guy was, there was no ring on her finger. I’d checked. What about the one he just gave her? I frowned, though it hadn’t seemed to indicate a commitment.
I pushed the thoughts away and paid closer attention, wanting to learn what their connection was, what was going on with them, and if she was in any real danger. Max had his back to Red, and he shrugged as he sifted through something I couldn’t see beneath the window. His shoulders rounded. “Sometimes, I need to make sure you remember you love me, despite how much of a mess I am.”
I could work with that if I could get her to see what a tool the guy was. Boyfriend or not, he needed to go, hence my camping out on the roof across from our building so I could check things out. It was about her safety, but finding out if she was single or going to be was good too.
The guy picked something up and paused to scrutinize the object. It looked like jewelry. Red stomped over and grabbed it from his hand. “Stop. I don’t have any precious gems. Nothing here is worth anything. You’ve already stolen what was.” She threw her arms up. Her voice rose, and she leaned in. “Did you think I’d get more? That I’d have money to buy more?”
The guy picked up a bracelet. Is she a designer? She jerked it from his hand, their voices increasing in volume in my ear. They bickered, and I shamelessly listened for anything of value. They both had tempers, and the more worked up she got, the more I wished I could see the flash of her oceanic eyes as they sparkled in fury.
There was a theme here, one I knew all too well, and the hair along the back of my neck stood on edge. He wanted money, needed it. He had even stolen from her, taken things to sell. What they fought about heightened my concern with each argument, each word screamed at the other. I knew this trope well, and it inevitably ended badly.
The tool was half begging and half yelling again. Things were escalating. “You have to help me, Stel.”
Is her name Stel?
“It’s always something. What are you caught up in now?” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. It was an intimidating sight.
The guy lost the aggression in his stance as he slumped against the wall. His next words chilled me to the bone. “I can’t keep you safe. It’s only a matter of time before they find you and use you against me.”
