Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart) (8 page)

BOOK: Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart)
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Confusion and concern crowded his handsome features as he stood on the floor, looking up at her. “You’re a good boxer.”

Holy cannoli! Was the heat in her face from blushing? No way. “Thanks.” She swiped a sweaty curl from her face, hoping she covered the red tint no doubt filling her cheeks. Whipping off the gloves, she smiled. Extended a wrapped hand. “Aspen Courtland.”

“Dane Markoski. And for the record, you look nothing like your brother.”

“I know. He got my mom’s side—full Italian. I got our father’s, Irish.” She wrinkled her nose. “So, Mr. Mar…”

“Markoski. It’s not really hard to pronounce.”

She shrugged. “I need to shower and change. Meet out front after?”

“Works for me.” He turned and walked toward the men’s locker room.

Aspen didn’t trust herself to talk anymore. Not here, not in front of everyone. And not after ending up flat on her back. She showered and changed, anticipation of talking to Mystery Man pushing her a little faster than usual. Disappointment dogged her steps as she waved bye to Nonno and made her way out the front door, where her friends waited on the wrought-iron bench.

“Something’s not right about that guy.” Timbrel Hogan, another handler with A Breed Apart, crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the gym doors.

“Is any guy right in your book?” A smile glowed against Brittain’s mocha-colored skin.

Timbrel smirked. “A rare few.”

Aspen tossed her gym bag in the back of her S
UV
. “I agree—something feels off. But if he was there with Austin and he knows what happened, then I need to explore this possibility.”

“Just don’t explore him.”

“Timmy,” Aspen chided, “I don’t care about
him
. Answers about my brother are what I’m after.”

Timbrel’s eyes narrowed. “But I know you, Aspen—you’re soft where it comes to romance. And that guy—he’s trouble. He knows how to work people. I can just…tell.”

Touching her puffy cheekbone, Aspen cringed. “He definitely worked me over.” She meant it as a joke to lighten the conversation, but Timbrel seized on it.

“Exactly what I’m talking about. What kind of man would hit a woman?”

Brittain laughed. “Girl, get off your hate wagon about men. Aspen challenged him in a boxing ring. She got what she asked for.” Her tall, African American friend brushed Aspen’s curl from her face. “All kidding aside, Timmy’s right: be careful. We don’t know nothin’ about this man. And it is strange that he shows up after all this time.”

“I know. I know.” She touched her fingers to her temple. They were right. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been swayed by blue eyes and smooth talking. Unlike Timbrel who didn’t trust at all, Aspen trusted far too easily. She called it optimism. Her friends naivete.

Was it her fault she wanted to believe people were good?

“Why don’t I go with you to the ranch?”

Hmm, maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. With Timbrel’s negative outlook coupled with her own positive outlook, maybe they’d find a safe middle ground.

“Hey, won’t Daniels be there?” Brittain nudged her arm. “You said he was good people, that he had a strong ability to read situations.”

“She’s right. Prince Charming has very good radar.”

“Whoa.” The wind gust rifled its fingers through Brittain’s caramel curls that puffed up in a halo around her face. “Did Timbrel Hogan just pay a man a compliment?”

“It’s a fact, not a compliment.” Timbrel bristled, but they all knew Daniels had pried a little sister out of Hogan during their mission in Afghanistan last year. The two behaved like siblings and had a mutual respect for each other.

“Here he comes.”

Aspen looked over her shoulder.

Showered, changed, and looking quite handsome in a dark blue button down and jeans…A breeze tussled his hair and threw it into his face. Cut short along the sides and back of his head, his black hair glittered wet and shiny in the afternoon sun. Longer strands on the top whipped along his forehead and temples as he strode toward them.

“Mmm,” Brittain muttered. “Yep, one
fine
man.”

“Okay. That’s it. I’m going,” Timbrel said.

Aspen started to glance at her friend, but Talon let out a low growl. “Out, Talon,” she said as she looked over her shoulder.

Dan spoke up. “So, where to?”

“A ranch that’s a half-hour drive out of the city.”

“Should I ride with you?” he asked.

“Absolutely not.” Timbrel pointed to his car. “Easier for you to leave after she throws your butt out.”

Blue eyes, surrounded by olive skin and framed by black hair, held Aspen’s. “You do remember you invited me out.” He towered over her but not in a threatening way. In the six-inches-taller way. In a way that left her unbalanced and far too aware of a strange current that bounced between them. And the way his jaw was dusted with stubble. “Or did I misconstrue the note you sent via the studio?”

Had he leaned closer?

She took a step back.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he looked at the three of them. “I feel like I’m intruding or something.” He fixed on Aspen. “You said you wanted to talk to me about your brother. But if I’m making you uncomfortable, or if I crossed some line, then I’ll leave.”

“No.” Aspen cleared her throat, praying that didn’t sound as desperate as it felt. “You’re right—I asked you to come.” She started to touch his arm, a move to reassure him, but she thought better of it. “It’s no problem. Timbrel just doesn’t like men.”

He studied the petite brunette for several long minutes.

Timbrel crossed her arms again, squaring off with him. “What?”

“Nothing.” He didn’t smile, but his eyes did—weird. “I just…if that’s your preference, great.”

“Preference?” Timbrel’s eyebrow arched.

Brittain laughed. “She’s not gay. She just…hates men, Mr. Markusky.”

“Markoski.” Confusion whirled through eyes that matched the sky behind him. “Then who do you date?”

“My dog,” Timbrel said through clenched teeth as she stomped toward her little import.

His shoulders weren’t tensed. Eyes held no barbed-wire accusations, only…amusement.

Aspen twisted toward him, her Asics crunching dirt and rock. “You did that on purpose, suggesting that.”

“Sorry. I just don’t appreciate people questioning my character when they don’t know me.”

“Don’t apologize, Soldier Boy. Anyone who can tie Timbrel’s tongue has my vote.” Brittain turned, locked gazes with Aspen, and started humming the song “Getting to Know You.”

Aspen flashed her friend a warning. Not the most suitable song. There was no king here. And if she recalled, the school teacher ended up falling in love with the king.

So not happening.

Trailing the white luxury SUV left Cardinal with more questions than answers. Things didn’t seem to be getting off on the right foot. Or any foot. Aspen was guarded, even more so with her posse of girlfriends.
How do I get under her radar?
What would it take to convince her to trust him?

The truth.

No way. That would risk
everything—everything!
His job and carcass would be on the line. Burnett would fry him. Then stick him in that smoker he raved about.

As they crept out of the Austin city limits and dug farther into the countryside, he evaluated what he’d perceived of Aspen Courtland. The woman had grit, but she also had an…
innocence
about her. Ironic considering she’d been an airman. A pretty tough one from the records he’d seen. And the way she’d gone up against the Brass regarding her brother’s status—the very reason Burnett wanted her kept ignorant because this could get ugly fast—and the way she’d taken control of the situation.

At least, she thought she had. He’d anticipated that about her. It’d worked. Exactly as planned. He banged his hand against the wheel.

“You are weak!”

Teeth grinding, he pulled himself straighter in the car. What was that? Dropping out of reality and drowning in the past would get him killed. Create mistakes. The way things were, he couldn’t afford a single mistake. He’d keep a line of demarcation between their two worlds. The line in the sand would be reinforced with powerful barriers.

The SUV slowed, snapping Cardinal back to the present. To the country road. He applied the brake as the Lexus turned into a gated drive. The trellised ironwork stretched over his sedan with the words A B
REED
A
PART
.

The dog!

He eased his car along the tree-lined road.
Head on a swivel. Eyes and ears out
. The old military lingo to watch his surroundings served as a good reminder. Ahead fifty yards, a brown home rose in quiet beauty. Glass and lines marked it with elegance, yet simplicity. Two men stood on a wraparound porch. Waiting.

Aspen’s white SUV aimed toward a fenced-in area away from the house. Already her door opened by the time he pulled up alongside. He slid the gear into P
ARK
, eyes on the rearview mirror. Well-muscled, sporting a Glock holstered to his thigh, a former Army grunt, if he ever saw one, approached.

Cardinal stretched his jaw and snagged the bandana from the glove compartment. He climbed out, sizing up the competition who gave Aspen a warm familiar hug.

“How’s he doing?” she asked.

“Fine. Trin’s got him on his toes.”

Aspen laughed.

The man shifted and extended a hand. “Heath Daniels.” Though the words were friendly, his posture was not. The man had territory issues.

Take it slow
. “Dane Markoski.”

Aspen motioned to him. “Dane was on the news—you might have seen him.”

Daniels nodded. “Mr. Markoski.”

“Oh, and this is Jibril Khouri.” Aspen turned, brushing a blond curl from her face. “He owns the ranch.”

Cardinal shook the man’s hand. “The land is beautiful.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Khouri’s gaze lingered longer than it should have. He was right to be cautious. They all were.

Behind the fenced area came the barking of dogs. Heart rammed into his throat, he looked toward the broad gate marked Training Yard. “Training?”

“Yes,” Khouri said as he motioned and started walking. “The ranch is a training facility for working dogs.”

“Hey.” Cardinal glanced to the side where Aspen walked with them. “Austin’s dog—whatever happened to him after…?”

Aspen’s expression fell, but she crammed a smile into place.

Cardinal felt like a jerk for asking the question he knew must twist that dagger in her heart, but he shoved aside the feeling.

“He’s here.” Aspen opened the gate. “I adopted him after Austin went missing.”

“I…I thought dogs were—” He cut off his words but knew she’d understand where he was going.

“A new law protects the dogs. They’re currently classified as equipment, so I had to pay to bring him home once they wrote him off, but it was worth it.” Aspen stepped into the training yard and strode toward the center.

A yellow Lab lumbered toward her, ball in mouth.

“Two months ago,” Daniels said, “Talon wouldn’t lift his head to even look at her.”

“Seriously?” Cardinal watched the handler and dog. “What was his problem?”

“PTSD.” Daniels’s gaze locked on to him. “So, you were with him in Al-Najaf.”

Cardinal feigned distraction with the dog. Maybe the woman. She had confidence yet a brokenness that felt familiar. He met Daniels head-on. “Oh. No, Kariz-e Sefid. That’s where I worked with Court.” Had he noticed Khouri limping? “That patrol, the bombs—it wiped out my career. Put me flat on my back for two months.”

“With what?” Relentless, Daniels tucked his arms under his armpits, gauging, monitoring. There was a reason he’d been a Green Beret.

“Broken back. TBI. PTSD.”

“You have no noticeable scars.”

“It’s the invisible ones that get you.” Cardinal needed to extract himself from this interrogation. “Excuse me.”

Had Daniels figured things out? He’d never been unraveled that fast. And he doubted it’d happened already here, but there was no time like now to put distance between him and the man who’d dig deep enough to find some holes.

Another dog bounded toward them. Lowered her front and tipped up her tail, snarling at him. Cardinal reached out a hand to try to show her he was her friend.

She snapped.

“Trinity, out!” Daniels looked at him and shrugged. “She’s protective. So am I.”

Something wet nudged his hand. He glanced down to find the Lab sniffing his hand. And prayed hard his plan worked.

To his relief, Talon sat at his feet and stared down the obstacle course.

Wide-eyed, Aspen gawked. “He knows you.”

“You sound surprised.” Technically, the dog
should
know him if he’d worked with Courtland, so this was a good test marker to also gain Aspen’s trust.

A pretty blush seeped into her milky-white complexion.

“You didn’t believe me.” He tried to sound surprised.

“Sorry.” More red. Matched her pink lips. “I’ve just been fighting to get him back, so it was a little strange that I’d never heard your name till you showed up on the news.”

“But you’re willing to believe me because of him.” He pointed to the dog.

Aspen ruffled the Lab’s head. “Talon knows people. Better than I do.” She clipped a lead on his collar. “If he accepts you, then I will.”

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