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Tyler
My computer screens were lit up like it was the fuckin’ fourth of July. I just hung up with Liam back in Virginia. He was working with Steve Alexander, a techie like me. He wasn’t as good, but with the shithole I was in, I needed someone who could run some tech ops for me while I dealt with everything else. I needed boots on the ground now. And I couldn’t be behind a computer screen when I was working in the field.
“Fuck, c’mon.” I took out the coffee pot and put it back. I checked the grounds and filter. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked the machine. “One cup of coffee. That's all I’m asking for.” I banged the top of the device and hit the switch again, trying to get it to turn on. “You got one job. One job.”
“What’s the matter, Sandman? You having trouble with the machines again?”
“Don’t mess with me, Muff. Not now.” He gave me a pat on the back. “A working coffee maker is not too much to ask. I can't even . . . What the hell is wrong with this thing?” I asked him, feeling completely out of my element and about ready to break some shit. “This is crazy.” I scrubbed my hands over my face.
“Sandman, I know you’re stressed, but man, you gotta get your head on straight. You just needed to plug it in. That's it,” he said with a slight chuckle as he plugged in the cord to the outlet.
“Okay, Muff. Somebody’s clearly got jokes.”
“Nah. I just know how to turn shit on. Just ask my wife.” He laughed a little at his sexual innuendo.
I ignored the joke and motioned for him to follow me. “I might need your help, Muff.”
“I already fixed your issue with the coffee maker.”
My fists clenched, and the knot in the pit of my stomach sank deeper. I didn’t have time for idle chit-chat or joking. “It’s Marisa. She’s been taken.”
He scanned the screens in front of us. “What’s going on here?”
“You don’t want to look at any of that.”
“What happened?” he asked.
I brought him up to speed as quickly as I could. He needed the key details, not the down and dirty information of the op. Especially if he was going to maintain deniability on the intel I had. Some of it was from the SDPD, some of it wasn’t. And the stuff that wasn’t was precisely what he needed to be innocent of. Still, if I knew Jackson Cole, he’d go to the ends of the earth for the people he cared about. And I knew he cared about Marisa. So did Catherine, which made this rescue even more critical.
We’d brought Team Virginia into it, anyone who could make the trip. Since they were coming out for the retreat soon anyway, Jackson decided to move up their trip early. Ben, Liam, Mark, and Quinn were already packing their gear. They didn’t need to be asked twice. We were deep in our conversation when heavy footsteps and an out-of-breath figure approached.
“Can I help you?” Jackson asked.
“I’m looking for—”
“Chad Davis,” I said when I looked up and recognized Marisa’s partner standing in front of us.
“Tyler.” His chest heaved up and down as he tried to catch his breath. “Thank God.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Coffee.”
“You came here for coffee?” Jackson asked, amused.
“Do I smell coffee?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “You want some?”
“Yes,” he huffed out the word.
“Jackson Cole, this is Chad Davis, Marisa’s partner.”
I stood as they shook hands, then led the way to the coffee. I poured three cups and waited for Chad Davis to tell me what the hell he was doing here.
“Jesus, this is such a mess.” He wasn’t dressed in his uniform but looked as if he hadn’t had any sleep. “I was kicked off the case.”
“Why?” Jackson asked.
