stint had found them in the mountains of Afghanistan working recon missions—his specialty. The team had taken some heat, taken down some tangos and returned slightly worse for wear and ready for some downtime.
He’d been home for less than twelve hours before he hit a local bar and met up with Monique, a full-time stewardess, part-time actress whose schedule seemed as busy as his and who’d told him back at the bar that she didn’t want any strings. It was goddamned perfect.
But when a friend called, his one-night stand would be shoved to the side no matter how much it hurt. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that crap.
He heard the scratch of a match and a deep inhale as Turk lit another cigarette. “You on leave?”
“Four days’ worth.”
“I need some help,” Turk said quickly, like it wasn’t easy to ask.
“Name it.”
“It’s about Ava,” his friend said quietly, and Justin’s stomach dropped at the mention of Turk’s younger sister. Ever since Turk started working deep-undercover cases for the DEA, he’d asked Justin to be on call to help Ava. Turk and Ava’s father had died when Ava was still in high school and they had no significant family, save for each other.
Justin had agreed, of course, but in all the years Ava had his phone number she’d never, ever used it. To be fair, he hadn’t used hers either. “Is she all right?”
“She bit off more than she can chew. And this time, it’s going to bite back.”
“Start talking, man. I need more information.” Justin was already pulling on his jeans, not giving a damn about being soaking wet.
“I can’t give you much. Just go to her.”
This was nothing Justin hadn’t done before. He’d always managed to do so without Ava knowing. As if guarding her from afar could make up for the way he’d hurt her. For the way he’d hurt them both.
Secrecy was better for all of them. And he’d always been able to take care of the problems plaguing her without much effort—usually some lowlife threatening her because of her job as an assistant district attorney, and because of her tendency to refuse to stand down when she was up against it.
It was a trait that ran long and hard in that family. And while Justin himself had a healthy appetite for living right out there on the edge, Turk and Ava brought it to an almost artistic level without even trying.
But this time, something in the tone of Turk’s voice didn’t sit right with Justin. “Tell me more.”
“This is just between us, Justin. There’s a possibility that her new case could blow my cover,” he murmured, and Justin knew what his friend said could mean a death sentence for him, no matter the case Turk was on. It also meant that Justin couldn’t bring in the local authorities for backup. “She’s involved in something big and she doesn’t realize it. You need to get to her tonight and get her out of New York.”
“Where do you want me to take her? Maybe she needs more protection than I can give her.”
“You’re the only one I can trust with this right now.” Turk paused for a long second, as if he wanted to say more but couldn’t. “It’s not going to be easy this time, Justin.”
“Dammit, Turk—don’t do this—” But the phone clicked on the other end before he could finish. Frustrated, he slammed it against the table and stared up at the sky for a few minutes.
Turk had joined the DEA around the time Justin made it through BUD/S training and moved into SQT, the final step before he received his Trident. He and Turk were always helping each other out, especially when one of them found himself balls deep in something, but Justin had never heard fear in his friend’s voice when Turk called for a favor. Not like this.
Turk was so deep undercover that he couldn’t get out in order to protect Ava.
But protect her from what?
Justin closed his eyes, thought about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been home now—if he’d still been deployed and God almighty, his instincts were screaming.
If he hauled ass, he could get to Ava before midnight, maybe hitch a ride on a helo from Virginia to a base in New York. Then he could rent a car and drive to Westchester County. And that would’ve made him happy if the thought didn’t cut him right off at the knees.
Nine years had passed since he’d actually had more than peripheral contact with her. Years full of some of the worst memories of his life, some of them softened by time and by a job he excelled at. A job that kept him too busy for more than a passing fling and no more commitment than a few hours could bring.
At one time, Ava had promised she’d be there for him. No matter what. That she trusted him. And then she’d never given him the chance to explain—the day he got married she skipped town and never looked back.
You wouldn’t have been able to tell her anyway.
Yeah, loyal to the end. Loyal and stupid. And young—too young to know any better, although it only made him feel marginally better to be able to blame his stupidity on youth and misguided loyalty.
It’s not going to be easy this time, Justin.
With Ava, it never was.
“YOUR HONOR, Miss Turkowski is making a mockery of this case, and her antics are becoming a hindrance to the prosecution.” The defense attorney clenched his fists and made a face Ava recognized immediately as exasperation. The judge wore it, too, as did pretty much any man Ava had ever known.
“Your Honor, a continuance is not on the people’s shortlist of wants. However, some new evidence has come to my attention that will showcase the defense’s arguments in a whole new light,” Ava said.
Before anyone could protest, she turned to Paul, her new assistant on the case, and in a perfectly choreographed move, he handed her the file folder she needed to present to the judge. She bypassed the defense council, a man she’d often gone up against and with whom she had a fifty-fifty loss/win split and handed the folder off.
She loved this moment—when she commanded the attention of every single person in the courtroom. She loved it because it didn’t happen quite as often as she would’ve liked, and when it did, she savored it more than dark chocolate and good sex, neither of which she’d had time for lately.
But this was certainly not the moment to muse about that. Not when she was about to win this case.
The judge peered at her over the top of his glasses. “A.D.A. Turkowski, how did you come upon this information?”
“My source is protected, Your Honor. But, as you can see, the evidence has been verified by forensics.”
“So it has.” The judge closed the folder and handed it off to the defense. “You might want to take a look at this before you make any more motions on behalf of your client.”
They were talking plea in less than two minutes, in hushed tones up by the judge, and Ava and the defense attorney agreed on a plea and punishment that would be put into place as soon as his client agreed.
