Bullet Proof (Love Undercover Book 4) Read online

  Bullet Proof

  Love Undercover, Book 4

  L.K. Shaw

  Bullet Proof, Love Undercover, Book 4

  © 2020 by LK Shaw

  Cover design © 2020 by PopKitty Designs

  Editor: Dayna Hart, Hart to Heart Editing

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book, with the exception of brief quotations for book reviews or critical articles, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  In Too Deep

  A Birthday Spanking

  Acknowledgments

  Book List

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Seven months ago

  Adrenaline pumped through my veins. I felt invincible. As though nothing could touch me. It was always like this right before a big bust.

  The thrill.

  The rush.

  I lived for it. I loved taking down drug dealers. Even more so after the cartel killed my eldest brother. My other brother, Manuel, said I was addicted to it. Like my own personal drug. Just as deadly as something bought off the street. Because when a cop feels he’s untouchable, he makes mistakes.

  Gun securely held between my hands, its muzzle pointed toward the ground, I waited impatiently for the signal. The cold from the metal wall of the warehouse seeped through my uniform. Despite the nip of winter in the air, it felt good against the heat of my rapidly flowing blood. My feet twitched with the need to move.

  I was antsy and ready for some action.

  In perfect defense formation, my gaze homed in on the man in front of me while I waited for my cue to follow behind him. The tension radiating off him and the man at my back told me it was coming.

  The unit leader’s fist pounded on the warehouse door. “Chicago PD. Open up.”

  There it was. We breached the door, and the shuffling sound of fifteen pairs of feet was loud in the quiet night. I scuttled in, panning the interior with eyes and pistol, searching for the two men we’d confirmed were inside. We fanned out, slowly moving forward, everyone on high alert.

  “Drop your weapon,” a voice yelled from my two o’clock.

  Gunfire erupted at the same time I spotted a suspect holding the semi-automatic, and I dove behind a pallet stacked with wooden crates. Splinters ricocheted off it, and I flinched, my ears ringing.

  My gaze darted around, taking in my team’s position. A quick peek over the top of the pallet confirmed the shooter's location. Where was the other guy? I ducked back down.

  “Cover me,” I yelled to Garrison, the teammate nearest me.

  He nodded, and like a jack-in-the-box, sprung up and started laying down fire while I dashed across the open space. I needed to get closer to the men trying to take us out. I slid behind another pallet at the same time the second gunman came into sight. There was a lull in the exchange of fire.

  “You’re surrounded. Put down your weapons and come out with your hands up.”

  They responded with a new round of gunfire. I jackknifed up, and my gun spit bullets. A cry of pain followed, and several shouts from the other assailant came right on its tail. Taking the opportunity, I was once again on the move. Three, maybe four feet, from my next spot of protection more gunfire came. I stumbled and crashed to the floor, rolling behind a shelf stacked with more wooden boxes.

  A burning sensation spread through my thigh that quickly transformed into a pain unlike anything I’d felt before. I shifted, and black spots danced in my vision. My fingers clutched my leg. The pain turned to an aching throb that radiated through my entire body. Pulling my hand away, my gloved fingertips glistened with wetness. A glance down was all the confirmation I needed. Blood pooled under my leg.

  “Rodriguez, Code Thirty,” I said into the walkie clipped to my shoulder.

  “Fuck,” came the immediate response.

  Shuffling sounds echoed through the warehouse’s high ceilings.

  “Down! Get down on the ground!” came on its heels.

  I sat there, pressed against the crate at my back, trying to put pressure on my leg, but fuck, it was agony. A noise to my left had me jerking my gun in that direction, but I quickly lowered it.

  “Shit, Pablo. Where are you hit?” Oliver Garrison asked, tucking his Glock back in its holster.

  “Left thigh. I think my leg’s broke too.” I wiped the sweat off my brow. “Call Vicky.”

  “What?”

  Oliver moved my leg, and a groan rumbled through my chest. “I need you to call Victor. He’s in a car down the road waiting with Brody. Let him know what’s going on.”

  While my buddy followed my request, another teammate came and took over.

  “You doing okay? Not hit anywhere else, are you?” Peterman asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  “You should have waited,” he said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I saw you move forward right before you got hit. You didn’t even wait for someone to cover you.”

  My head jerked at the accusation in his tone.

  “Ambulance is on its way. Victor’s going to head to the hospital,” Oliver interrupted.

  Peterman glanced over at him. “You got this?”

  Garrison nodded. The other man stood and walked away without another word.

  “What a dick.”

  I turned my head toward my friend, but he was glaring at the retreating man. I replayed the entire scene. I was sure I’d hit one of the gunmen before moving into my new position. Granted, the second suspect hadn’t been in sight, but I’d heard him. He’d been more concerned about his friend, which was why I’d gone ahead and tried to get closer.

  Had I gotten too cocky?

  I opened my eyes and blinked against the bright artificial lighting above my head. Beeping sounds pierced my eardrums. Pain registered next. I turned my head, and the first person I spotted was Ines. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks tear-stained. Next to her, his expression more grim than usual, was Brody. He was staring straight ahead, but then he blinked and his eyes met mine. I managed a pain-filled half smile.

  He didn’t even move, but like she was that attuned to him, Ines shifted, and her eyes opened. Her gaze landed on me, and with a cry, she dashed over.

  “Oh my god, Pablo,” she choked out my name and clutched my hand, bringing her lips down to meet my knuckles.

  “I’m okay.”

  Brody rose and stood at my sister’s side comforting her. “You in pain?”r />
  I grimaced. “A little.”

  He nodded, squeezed Ines’s waist, whispered in her ear, and headed out the door.

  “You had us so worried,” Ines said.

  I turned my head back toward her.

  “Papa, Manny, and Vicky have been here waiting for you to wake up. They wouldn’t let us all stay in your room at once, but they’re in the family room down the hall.”

  Of course they were. I’d expect nothing less from my family. “I’m fine. What’s a little bullet wound?” I joked.

  “Don’t forget the broken leg,” Brody piped up from the doorway. I hadn’t heard him return. “Nurse will be in in a second.”

  I nodded my thanks. “Figured the leg was broken.”

  “They took you in for surgery as soon as you arrived,” Ines added.

  “What time is it?”

  “Around four,” Brody said.

  “Shit, why aren’t you guys home in bed?” I asked.

  My sister gave me a look that said if I hadn’t been stuck in this hospital bed with a bullet wound she’d smack me. “Don’t be dense. Of course we were going to be here. You’re our brother. And you were shot, you idiot.”

  “Thanks, I’d forgotten,” I drawled.

  “Ines,” Brody warned when she opened her mouth, no doubt to lay into me, broken leg be damned. She snapped it shut.

  “We should probably all get some sleep,” he added.

  The door opened, and a nurse stepped in. “Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. Nice to see you awake. What’s your pain level on a scale of one to ten?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a four.”

  “Just press this button, and a dose of pain meds will be administered through your IV.”

  “Thanks.” I pressed the button she’d indicated and then sank back into the hospital bed waiting for relief to kick in.

  “I’ll be back to check on you in a little while,” she said before disappearing out the door as quickly as she’d arrived.

  Despite only being awake for a few minutes, my lids grew heavy.

  “Now that Ines has seen for herself that you’re doing okay, why don’t we let you get some rest,” Brody said, for which I was grateful.

  From her hesitation, Ines wasn’t ready to go, but he laid a hand on her shoulder. She reached up and squeezed it, with a nod. Then she leaned down and brushed a kiss over my cheek, the scent of her familiar perfume comforting me.

  “Te amo, hermano,” she whispered.

  “Yo también te quiero.”

  “We’ll let everyone know you’re doing okay, and we’ll stop by later this morning after you’ve had time to rest.” She tugged on one of my curls like she had when we were kids.

  I sent her a sleepy smile. “Thanks for being here when I woke up.”

  “Of course.”

  The two of them left, and my eyes drifted shut. I was floating in the state that hovered just on the edge of sleep when the crack of gunfire shattered the quiet in my mind.

  Chapter 2

  Present day

  Maisie looked more and more like her father every day. Although calling Henry Warren Caldwell III, a father was a joke. He was nothing more than a sperm donor. Regardless, the older my daughter got, the more she resembled him. They both had the same blue eyes. A bright blue, like the kind you’d find in the sky on a cloudless day. Her nose was patrician, just like his. And she had that perfect cupid’s bow shaped lips. I’d been a starry-eyed, stupid teenage girl over those lips.

  The only thing my daughter seemed to have gotten from me was my wavy, unimaginative, plain brown hair. There wasn’t anything special about it. I couldn’t boast natural highlights. Nope, Maisie was stuck with my regular old mud brown hair. Otherwise, she was all her father. In looks only anyway. She didn’t get his personality, thank god.

  “Mama, don’t forget my floaties,” she piped up, shaking me out of my thoughts.

  “I have them right here, don’t worry.” To prove my point, I tugged them out of my giant bag that doubled as a purse.

  My daughter bounced excitedly up and down, antsy for the lap swimming to be over and the open swimming to begin. I managed to wrangle her arms into the inflatable rings. The faces of a blonde girl with a long braid wearing a powder blue dress and a snowman with a carrot nose and giant buck teeth stared up at me from them. Hand-in-hand, we stepped out of the women’s locker room and entered the humid pool area. The scent of chlorine was overpowering and nearly burned my eyes.

  Several other mothers with children milled around as well as a group of teenage boys, all anxious to get in the pool. I only hoped the teens stayed in the deep end, because they tended to get rowdy, splashing each other, and cannonballing off the diving board.

  I glanced toward the lone figure swimming down the second from the outside lane, his powerful strokes moving his body fluidly through the water. My eyes stayed locked on him while he finished his final lap.

  “Mama,” Maisie whined.

  I gently squeezed her hand.

  “We have to wait, honey,” I mumbled back, unable to look away. He reached the edge of the pool, and with muscled arms, the kind that was my kryptonite, hauled himself up and out of it. Water cascaded off his body, and every bit of saliva dried up in my mouth while I took him in.

  He was everything I could have imagined. Only better. Those shoulders. Oh, fuck, those washboard abs. Wet swim trunks stuck to his skin outlining what appeared to be a pretty impressive package. I barely refrained from moaning. My gaze reluctantly moved to his muscular thighs, focusing on the scar on the left one. It was the only flaw I could see. I studied it a second longer. Was that from a gunshot wound?

  A swim cap covered his head and goggles blocked the sight of his eyes so the only discernible features I could make out were his hawk-like nose and full lips, the bottom one slightly bigger than the top. Something about him seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite figure out what.

  I followed the trail of one particular droplet of water. It ran down his neck and continued on a path along his sculpted chest that reminded me of one of those Greek god statues at the museum.

  “Mama, come on.” There was a sharp tug on my hand.

  My gaze darted away from the sexy specimen and down to my daughter who continued trying to drag me to the other end of the pool.

  “We can’t go in yet, sweetie. Remember, we have to wait until they remove the lane ropes. You have to be patient.”

  Telling an almost four-year old to be patient was like asking a bird not to fly. Or a flower not to bloom. My daughter especially. I guess that was one more thing she got from her sperm donor.

  “Michele?”

  A shiver darted across my neck, and goosebumps puckered across my flesh at the voice. It was a deep bass. The kind that rumbled through my chest and gave me a cold chill. I slowly pivoted a half-turn.

  In front of me, still dripping wet, but no longer wearing his swim cap or goggles, stood Pablo Rodriguez. His honey-colored gaze met mine, and another shiver danced across my skin. I couldn’t look away even if I tried.

  I croaked and cleared my throat before trying again, feeling like an idiot. “Hi.”

  He was just as gorgeous as the first time I’d seen him. Most of his dark curls were plastered against his head from the cap he’d worn, but several already started to spring back to their unruly tousled mess. My fingers itched to muss it entirely.

  “It’s nice to see you again. I didn’t realize you were a member here.” His gaze danced around to indicate the rec center.

  “We just moved into the neighborhood and only recently joined.” I laid my arm around Maisie’s shoulders and pulled her against me, giving her the reassurance she needed when someone new entered our circle.

  In a move that surprised me, Pablo knelt, smiling at the little girl at my side. Something about that smile melted my insides into a gooey mess.

  “Hello there. You must be Maisie. I’m Pablo. My sister Ines has told me all about you. She said you do a great job
holding baby Zoey.”

  If him introducing himself to my daughter shocked me, it was nothing compared to her response. A giant grin took up her entire face and her eyes sparkled with excitement. My normally reserved-around-strangers daughter beamed. “You know Zoey? Her is my favorite. Is her here? I wanna hold the baby.”

  Pablo’s smile widened even further showing bright white teeth, and I nearly whimpered. My god, it should be illegal for a man to be that beautiful.

  “No, I’m sorry, she’s not here right now.” He glanced around and then whispered conspiratorially. “Can I let you in on a secret?”

  Maisie’s eyes widened and she nodded.

  “She’s my favorite, too.”

  She chortled, then immediately turned to me and her voice boomed. “Mama, did you hear that?”

  I smiled down at her. “Yes, baby, I heard.”

  My gaze shifted, and those beautiful golden orbs were locked on me. Pablo rose slowly to his feet, his eyes still trained on my face. I couldn’t pull away from the intensity I saw in them. The shrill sound of a whistle made me jerk.

  “Open swim is now in session,” the loud tinny voice boomed through the overhead speaker.

  “Mama.” Maisie tugged on my arm again, her obsession with Pablo’s niece clearly forgotten.

  I gestured over my shoulder with a thumb. “Sorry, that’s our cue.”

  Pablo brushed off my words with a smile. “You don’t have to apologize. Have fun. It was nice seeing you again.”