We All Sleep Alone (Finley Creek #11) - Calle J. Brookes Page 0,132
it. She was happy for Jules and Mal and Carrie and Sebastian. And for all the other couples who’d found each other through PAVAD.
Inner-Bureau romances were often frowned on, but the division was full of them lately. Even the director in charge of PAVAD had recently married the head of the forensics department. Romances in PAVAD seemed to work, for some reason.
But not for her.
Romances had never worked for her. She was fine with that—the people she loved were happy. That was all that mattered.
And Sebastian would never hurt Carrie. No matter what.
Al sped up, every instinct she possessed telling her this was wrong. Something wasn’t right.
She was close enough now that Carrie could see her, and there was confusion and pleading on the younger woman’s face.
Carrie was terrified. And now Al understood. The man had Sebastian’s face; she couldn’t deny that.
But it definitely wasn’t Sebastian Lorcan pointing a .38 at Carrie.
“Carrie!” Something plowed into him from the side, and knocked both him and the girl against the car. “Run!”
He had his hands full, and he knew it. Damn it, all he’d wanted was the car and the computer. He tightened his hold on the redhead, and pulled her between him and this new threat.
He nearly swallowed his tongue when he looked up. Had he thought the redhead was smoking hot? The blonde pointing a gun at him blew the redhead out of the water. Probably several times over. And that was saying a lot. “Well, sweetheart. Now this is going to be fun...”
He held his own weapon just as steady.
“Let her go.” The blonde spoke with cool experience and he admired that. “She’s never hurt anyone.”
“Never said she did. I think we both know we have two options here. I take Red and go for a drive, alone, and you let me. Or...we all climb into this pretty little truck and get to know each other a hell of a lot better. I’d prefer the latter. Wouldn’t any red-blooded male?” A joke, but they didn’t have to know that. Hell, he’d take either one of them if they were willing—if Red hadn’t claimed to have a husband. This was a royal fuck up on his part—and he’d had quite a few in his life, so he definitely recognized fuck up when he saw it—and now there was no way he was leaving there without an insurance policy. A living, breathing, female-type insurance policy. But which one?
“I don’t know who you are, or why you’re doing this, or why you’ve targeted Carrie, but you have to know you’re not leaving here. At least not alive.” She never faltered, and he’d admit he was impressed. Barbie had balls. And some serious training.
“Maybe. But if I don’t leave here sometime soon, someone else could get up shit creek, possibly me. So...” He put the gun toward the redhead, feeling like a big and total ass when she shook even harder. This was so not how he’d wanted to play this. “I suggest you put that down, and climb that luscious ass of yours into the car. Back passenger. You have ten seconds to cooperate. Ten, nine...”
For my grandfather, the best man I have ever known.
You will be missed.
Oct. 2015
For my grandmother, who gave me the courage to try. Without you and your love of romance, I never would have made it this far.
Feb. 2016
For my papaw, whose children loved him deeply, and will always miss him.
Oct. 2017
Calle J. Brookes enjoys crafting paranormal romance and romantic suspense. She reads almost every genre except horror. She spends most of her time juggling family life and writing while reminding herself that she can’t spend all of her time in the worlds found within books. CJ loves to be contacted by her readers via email and at www.CalleJBrookes.com. When not at home writing stories of adventure and wrangling with two border collies and a beagle puppy, CJ is off in her RV somewhere exploring the beautiful world we live in, along with her husband of she can’t remember how many years and their child.