Waiting: A PAVAD: FBI Prequel (PAVAD: FBI Romantic Suspense Book 2) Read online

  Waiting

  Calle J. Brookes

  Lost River Lit Publishing, L.L.C.

  Contents

  Also by Calle J. Brookes

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  EXCERPT

  Other Titles by Calle J. Brookes

  Paranormal

  DARDANOS Paranormal Romance

  Live or Die

  The Blood King

  The Seer’s Strength

  The Warrior’s Woman

  The Healer’s Heart

  Once Wolf Bitten

  Awakening the Demon’s Queen

  The Wolf’s Redemption

  The Wolf God & His Mate

  God of Nightmares

  DARDANOS: THE LAQUAZZEANA

  A Warrior’s Quest

  Out of the Darkness

  Warrior Blind

  The Witch

  Balance of the Worlds

  The Healer’s Soul

  DARDANOS: THE ADRASTOS

  The Outcast

  The Forlorn

  The Beloved

  The Betrayed

  Romantic Suspense

  PAVAD: FBI ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

  Beginning (Prequel 1)

  Waiting (Prequel 2)

  Watching

  Wanting

  Second Chances

  Hunting

  Running

  Redeeming

  Revealing

  Stalking

  Ghosting

  Burning

  Gathering

  Falling

  FINLEY CREEK SERIES

  TRILOGY ONE

  Her Best Friend’s Keeper

  Shelter from the Storm

  The Price of Silence

  Suspense/Thriller

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0001

  “Knocked Out”

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0002

  “Knocked Down”

  PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0003

  “Knocked Around”

  COMING SOON

  Hiding (PAVAD: FBI Romantic Suspense 14)

  If the Dark Wins (Finley Creek Trilogy 2)

  Wounds That Won’t Heal (Finley Creek Trilogy 2)

  As the Night Ends (Finley Creek Trilogy 2)

  Calle J. Brookes is first and foremost a fiction writer. She 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. Calle J. loves to be contacted by her readers via email and at www.CalleJBrookes.com.

  Calle has several free reads available at CalleJBrookesReads.com

  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

  Sign Up For Calle’s Newsletter to receive

  Updates and exclusive scenes here!

  WAITING

  Calle J. Brookes

  Lost River Lit Publishing, L.L.C.

  Springs Valley, Indiana

  Est. 2011

  The Lost River Lit Publishing, L.L.C. name and imprint are the sole properties of independent publishers Calle J. Brookes and B.G. Lashbrooks. They cannot be reproduced or used in any manner; nor can any of their publications or designs be used without expressed written permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, or locations, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Copyright © 2015 Calle J. Brookes

  Cover by Lost River Lit Publishing, L.L.C.

  All rights reserved.

  eD. 2

  WAITING

  PAVAD: FBI ROMANTIC SUSPENSE THE PREQUELS

  BOOK 2

  1

  HER face hit the floor and one thing was absolutely certain—Anastacia Sorin was screwed.

  Her opponent had her and they both knew it. It had been as fair a fight as it could be. Both women were small in stature, of the same build and close to the same age. Both had at least eight years’ training in the martial arts and hand-to-hand combat. Both were skilled supervisory special agents with the Child Exploitation Prevention Division of the FBI.

  But Georgia hadn’t been up all night fighting nightmares.

  And she coolly, methodically wiped the floor with Ana.

  “Do you yield, Ana?”

  “Yield.” Ana’s relaxed every muscle in her body, pressed closer to the rubber floor beneath her cheek. Submitted. “Dammit, George. Get off me! Your knee’s sharp!”

  Georgia laughed when she helped Ana to her feet. Ana limped to the shower room, her friend right behind her.

  “Spill,” Georgia ordered a few minutes later, as they changed out of their sparring clothes. “You’re not up to par today.”

  “What do you mean? Just because you beat me...” Ana slipped her trousers over her hips before glancing at her friend. Georgia always managed to look great no matter what she wore; Ana looked at her own outfit. There was dust on one navy knee, and a safety pin held the trousers together.

  Even when she borrowed Georgia’s clothes, she never managed to look quite as good. Sometimes that was more evident than others. This was defi
nitely one of those times.

  “You were missing blocks you shouldn’t have. Your attention was anywhere else but on me. And, well, you were making yellow-belt mistakes.” Georgia never sugar coated. And as a profiler and behavioral psychologist, she most often knew exactly what Ana was thinking or feeling. It made it hard to lie to her.

  “Nightmares,” was all Ana said. It was all she needed. No one knew her as well as Georgia.

  “Same ones?” Georgia paused to study Ana’s face.

  “Yes.” Ana didn’t elaborate. She’d told her friend what had happened to her within a month of them first meeting. They were the only female members of the seven-agent team and had been friends almost from their first day on the same team.

  Yeah, they knew each other’s nightmares well.

  They both still bore the scars. Inside.

  “Dreams are the subconscious mind’s way of telling us something,” Georgia said. “Anything different about this dream?”

  “No.”

  “No difference?”

  “This time, he bleeds to death in the elevator, and I’m trapped with him. For hours. Then he comes back from the dead, and we’re trapped in that supply closet in D.C., same story, minimal variation.”

  “And when you woke, how did you feel?”

  “Angry, scared, sad, guilty.” Ana listed the feelings she’d felt nearly every time she woke from the dream. Just like Georgia had insisted the first time she’d helped Ana deal with them nearly two years ago. “When I first woke, I was sure he was dead. Dammit, Georgia. I’ve not had the dreams in months.”

  “Subconscious telling you something?”

  “But what?”

  Their conversation was cut short as they entered the large conference room.

  Their team leader looked at them through dark-rimmed glasses. Ana loved it when he wore his glasses; it made him twice as hot. “You’re both late.”

  “We apologize, Mal,” Georgia said as Ana murmured, “I’m sorry.”

  “Sure you are.” But he smiled when he said it, and Ana felt the urge to smile back.

  Ana thought her team leader was the hottest guy in the world, and he was one of the nicest, too. Malachi Brockman didn’t tolerate screw-ups. So she tried her best not to be one. Mal was one of those bosses who made people try their best because he always tried his best. “We’ve all been summoned to Conference room A.”

  “Great,” Ana whispered to Georgia as they immediately stood back up to follow him and the other four members of their team out of the room. “Now what?”

  “We’ll just have to wait and find out.” Georgia slung the backpack that carried her laptop and various other necessities over her shoulder. The backpack went with Georgia everywhere.

  They rounded the corner, looked through the window into the largest conference room in the St. Louis field office. A huge crowd was already inside. And they didn’t look very happy. “I don’t think this is going to be good.”

  “I think this is the whole field office.” Georgia’s tone was just as puzzled. “Something must be going on.”

  Some of the people Ana recognized. Some she didn’t. Holding court in the center was the Assistant Director of the Directorate of Intelligence.

  Georgia’s father.

  Edward Dennis looked a lot like his daughter. The man was cold, imposing, and definitely larger than life. And terrifying.

  Until you got to know him, then you realized he was just reserved.

  He nodded in his daughter’s direction, and Ana caught the small smile. Ed Dennis loved his daughter—there was no doubt about that in Ana’s mind—and that was the only thing that made him appear human at first.

  “Wow. They called out the big cheese on this one.” Special Agent Whitman said from behind the two women. “That’s the...”

  “Assistant Director?” Georgia asked, a touch of mischief in her voice. Ana smirked. Whitman was young, obnoxious, the newest transplant to their unit in the CEPD, and both women enjoyed tormenting him whenever possible.

  “I heard he was a real cold bastard. Heard he fired this SA for messing up his lunch order last week.”

  “I don’t think he’s cold at all,” Georgia said. “Daddy’s always been shy.”

  “Daddy?” Whitman’s blue eyes widened and he paled. Georgia didn’t advertise her relationship to the director, though Ana thought most people knew. Their team didn’t speak of the connection often, but surely Whitman knew?

  “Hmm, Whitman, Doctor Dennis, Director Dennis—you think they’re related?” Ana widened her own eyes at Whitman. “Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

  Whitman said nothing, just moved away.

  “You know, we probably shouldn’t tease him that much,” Georgia said as they took their seats on the left side of Mal. Whitman, J.T. Tompkins, and Dakon Royal took the seats on the right. Ken Chalmers took the seat on Ana’s left. “One of these days he’s going to take us seriously.”

  “You’d think he’d know not to take you too seriously to begin with. Ana, love, your cheek is swelling slightly.” Mal frowned at the two women. His glasses were gone, but that didn’t detract from how beautiful her dark-headed, blue-eyed boss actually was. She sniffed discretely, taking in the warm mint-tinged cologne he favored. She favored it, too, one of the reasons she always tried to sit by him.

  She was in deep for her Malachi, but would never act on it. That would be too weird—and could potentially ruin her career. But that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy him thoroughly whenever given the smallest chance. A girl lived for those kinds of moments with a man like Malachi.

  “Georgia beat me up, boss,” Ana mocked an injured shoulder. “This time. I’ll take her next time.”

  “Sure you will.” J.T. leaned forward to look at them. His black-rimmed glasses slid down his nose and he pushed them up with one finger. He was such a cute nerd, with his blond hair uncombed and his shirt stained and untucked. Ana loved him. Fiercely, the way one loved a particularly lovable younger brother. “You two still running neck and neck?”

  “Dead even. Ana beat me last week,” Georgia said, as the conference room door opened and one more team entered. The man in front was large, tall and muscular—at least six-foot-five, broad shouldered, with chestnut hair and a handsome face. She’d seen him before, but couldn’t place him. He was followed by several other agents, including a young redhead with hair nearly as dark as Ana’s and a gorgeous blonde woman. The redhead was a bit odd, but someone Ana knew well enough to say hello to in the elevator. One look at the blonde made Ana feel even more self-conscious in the pantsuit she’d filched from Georgia’s donation pile a few weeks ago when the other woman had done her ritual spring closet cleaning.

  The man glared fiercely at Edward Dennis. Ana’s gaze moved to the older man. The assistant director’s return look was pure ice. “Uh, Georgia...”

  “What?” Georgia turned, and Ana knew she saw what she did.

  “Who is that?” Ana asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Georgia said softly, her eyes trained on the man. “But whoever he is...I don’t think he likes my father very well.”

  “That’s Michael Hellbrook, ladies. From the Complex Crime Unit two floors up. Wonder what he’s doing here?” Mal asked. “He usually steers clear of any cases or anything involving your father, Georgia.”

  “I’ve heard my father grumbling, but I’ve never met the man. I think that has been my father’s maneuvering, actually. I’m not so sure I want to, now.”

  Ana couldn’t blame her. Rumor had it that Michael Hellbrook had earned his nickname of ‘Hell’. They said he was hell to work with, and had one hell of a temper. She’d believe it, looking at him. “What’s the deal, Mal?”

  “A case, nearly fifteen years ago. Hellbrook’s first major one, I think. Two agents were killed. Rumor has it Hellbrook blames your father, Georgia. Still to this day.” Mal shook his head as if he couldn’t understand it. “But no one knows what really happened. The bad blood has persisted.”
r />   “Even after all this time?” Georgia asked. Both women watched the man and his team as they settled into the last few seats of the first row. “Must have been horrible. We’d just moved to St. Louis then. My father had had his choice of regions. He chose this one.”

  Ana suspected the man had also pulled strings to get his daughter in the St. Louis field office, where he’d worked for over fifteen years. Georgia had spent her entire career in St. Louis. Ana had jumped around more. She’d started in Washington in Hostage Recovery. Then she’d transferred to Chicago’s branch of Violent Crimes, before finally coming to Mal’s notice. He’d handpicked her around the same time he’d filched Georgia from a Child Abduction Rapid Deployment team. Tompkins was their computer guy, and he did a phenomenal job. Chalmers and Royal had been with the CEPD just as long as Ana and Georgia.

  They worked well together. Even Whitman, who’d not been picked by Malachi, served his purpose well. Of course, that purpose was basically that of errand boy—he’d yet to earn more. Ana sent him for her lunch at least twice a week as a joke. He did it, too. Without complaint. He had a lot of potential, and Ana was glad to be around to see it evolve. Mal’s team—her team—was one of the best in the field office. In the region, even.

  “If I may have your attention, please.”

  Ana focused on the stage as the room quieted quickly. Ed Dennis stepped to the front center, immediately commanding attention. The room quieted.

  Georgia was capable of that. She’d seen her friend draw attention her way with just the tone of her voice. Georgia didn’t do it often. But when she did, it was highly effective.

  Not Ana; Ana preferred to do her work behind the crowd. She was the strategy specialist, the one who planned extraction maneuvers or dealt with victims. Ana had grown up in a world far removed from Georgia’s. Ana’s father had been nomadic, dragging his small family everywhere. He and her mother had come to the US from a small city in Russia ten years before Ana had been born. They’d stayed nowhere more than two months.