Hostile Territory - Marie James Page 0,3

gave them exactly what they expected. I was a hardass, skipping school, disrespecting teachers, being an all-around jerk. That is until Jake. The changes were gradual, but eventually Mom’s job was no longer threatened by my behavior and I grew up to be a man that was almost respectful.

The Army only lasted eight years. There was no point in staying in after my divorce. I only joined to provide stability for the family we were supp—

Another throat clearing. Another smile at Jake.

“What are you planning to do with yourself now, old man?”

He scoffs, both of us knowing that he’s still a badass on the basketball court and could chase down a criminal in full uniform if he were challenged to.

“Retirement just means I can spend more time down at the rec center.”

“And that means I’ll probably never see him again.”

Jake softens, opening his arms immediately as his wife Connie steps up beside him. He presses smiling lips to her cheek, and I watch as her hand settles over his stomach, the move so practiced it’s rote.

“He’s going to have to find a compromise, right?” I grin at Connie. “Maybe you two could volunteer there together.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket as Jake raises an eyebrow at his wife, as if they’ve already had this conversation and I’m a voice of reason.

My phone flashes an unfamiliar number, but I press decline even though it’s a local number. I can only be fooled by robocalls so many times. Before I can shove it in my pocket, the phone rings again. For the second time, I hit ignore for it only to ring again.

“Give me a moment, please,” I tell them as I walk away, accept the call, and hold it to my ear.

“What?” I snap, angrier at myself for bringing the damn phone in with me than anything else.

“Deacon?” The voice is an unfamiliar screech, clearly an upset woman. “Is this Deacon Black?”

Oh hell. A phone call from a hysterical woman is never a good thing.

“Speaking,” I snap.

“It’s Anna.”

“Okay.” I don’t give much away, still trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Annalise Grimaldi.”

I nearly drop the damn phone. Never in a million years did I think this woman would call me.

“I can’t believe you still have the same number.” Her words don’t fit the hysteria she displayed a few seconds ago, but that doesn’t stop the wave of cold chills rushing down my spine.

There’s only one reason that Anna would call me. I haven’t seen her or heard anything about her in the eight years since my divorce, and we only have one connection.

“It’s Dani,” she sobs.

I clear my throat, swallowing multiple times to ward off the lump forming there. “What happened?”

I squeeze my eyes closed, waiting for her to deliver the terrible news. People die every day, some suddenly, some slipping away gradually. Some after years of no contact, but somehow that doesn’t stop the twinge of pain, the thoughts of regret. Years of separation and no contact doesn’t stop the grief of losing someone you once loved.

“What happened?” I repeat when all I can hear on the other line is whimpering and pain.

“The police are all over the place. There was so much blood. They won’t talk to me. They carried her out on a stretcher. I think she was shot.”

Her words come out in short puffs of breath between sobs.

“Shot?” I say because that doesn’t make any sense. “Where?”

“In her condo.”

Rich girls don’t get shot in their condos. Rich girls end up with coke problems and either die from an overdose or car crash from driving under the influence. Levels of violence involving guns doesn’t make sense.

“I-I didn’t know who else to call. Can you come here? Maybe they’ll talk to you.” Anna’s voice is almost begging, but it’s almost like she’s at the other end of a mile-long tunnel.

“That won’t work,” I tell her. “Go to my office.”

“Office?” She sounds surprised but assures me she’s got the address when I spit it out.

I hang up before she can say anything else. Police at an active crime scene won’t talk to me, but it so happens that I know a couple of guys who can get me the info I need within minutes.

I wave to Jake, and he nods in my direction, well aware of my line of work. He won’t be offended that I had to duck out early.

A couple of drinks and telling a dear friend congratulations on his retirement has somehow managed to turn into a