Sweet Surrender (Club Stratosphere Book 2) Read online

  Sweet Surrender

  A Club Stratosphere Novel

  By

  Danielle Gavan

  October 2016

  Copyright Danielle Gavan

  ISBN 978-1-927116-36-4

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  All rights reserved. This book is copyrighted and protected by law.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this ebook are products of the authors' imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the authors.

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This series is dedicated to Matthew. You, my Darling, have taught me so much and You’ve shown me ‘The Way’. i love You more than could ever be put into words. Thank You for loving me, being my biggest fan and everything i needed You to be since moment one. You’ve made my life happier, set me on the path to success and to achieving my goals.

  You are amazing, and i’m blessed to call You mine.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter One

  John

  Tick. Tick.

  “Boom?” The lieutenant’s voice broke my concentration as it came through the com link in my ear. I stopped humming the tune I’d been working on in my head all morning and let out a breath. My heart skipped, the next beat hard in my chest as it attempted to resume a calm and steady rhythm beneath my rib cage. Were it not for bad timing, the man would have none whatsoever. My nerves were rock solid. Lucky me, even more so for Lieutenant Sinclair. I stilled my hand above the mess of wires, and looked at the screwdriver held a millimetre away from jabbing into the device that could end my life were it handled improperly. I closed my eyes, took a slow breath, and sent up a silent thank you to my guardian angel for keeping me from being blown to smithereens. I swore, with the amount of danger I got into, the poor thing must drink itself into oblivion on a regular basis.

  “Yeah, Lt?” I refocused on the task at hand—removing the bomb beneath the desk I was crouched under. The man was lucky I hadn't blown up the building because of his distraction. We’d be having a little chat about his carelessness when the team got back to the station. This wasn’t the first time the Lieutenant broke my focus, but it would be the last if I had my way.

  “Time, John?” he demanded, voice deep and gravelly in my com piece.

  I ignored the bead of sweat tracing its way down my spine beneath the bomb suit and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He wouldn’t see it, and I couldn’t afford to take my eyes off the explosive device in front of me. Impatient ass, I thought to myself. I’d been inside the building all of five minutes, maximum, and he already wanted a status update. I was good at my job, but damn, the man had some unrealistic expectations. “Almost done.”

  He huffed and grumbled. I could almost see him in my mind’s eye—fifteen pounds over weight, his balding head sweating beneath a standard issue policeman’s cap. He’d be mopping his brow every few seconds and shooting a gimlet eye at anyone who dared look at him sideways. “Finish up. It's hot enough out here to melt the tires on the squad cars.”

  “Roger that. Lopez out.” I blinked to keep the sweat from my eyes and resumed the low humming. Clamp there, and there. Switch tools. Unscrew, unscrew, unscrew… and, once more. With a firm but careful touch, I removed the bomb from the brackets and placed it inside the insulated box I’d brought in with me. The Styrofoam liner gave off a soft squeak as the device settled inside its protective layers. I backed my hands away and let out a soft breath, grateful that I still could.

  With the lid secured in place, I slid out from beneath the desk and rose. Every muscle screamed as I stood and stretched to my full height of six feet four inches. I ignored the discomfort from crouching in the heavy bomb suit for an extended period of time and picked up the box, heading out to the area my team had setup for disposal of the bomb.

  Techs in tactical gear opened the doors as I approached. They held the doors open, waiting for me to pass through with my dangerous cargo. Every second counted, and stopping to push or pull a door open would cost too many of the precious few I had to get to the bunker. The countdown on the bomb’s face clicked off in my head—less than two minutes to get across the lot, deposit the box in the pit and get my ass out of dodge.

  I timed my steps and walked as fast as the bulky suit would allow. Forty-five seconds to the Bomb Detonation Unit, fifteen seconds to deposit the box in the center of the unit, ten seconds to close the heavy door, and another 45 seconds to get myself to a safe distance. A final 20 seconds to make sure the area was clear, and everyone was behind the protective shield before the bomb blew. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

  Time ticked on. A rustle and scrape from a room on my left drew my attention as I passed the partially open doorway. I slowed my steps, listening intently. Scrape. Rustle. I closed my eyes and cursed under my breath. “Lt, I thought you said this building was cleared?

  “What the hell, Lopez?” The Lieutenant growled in my ear as I stepped closer to the source of the noises. “It was cleared. Are you telling me there’s someone in there?” I pushed the door open, stepping inside the office, and stopped dead in my tracks. “Boom. That building was cleared. There’s no one in there. Now, hustle out of there, Sergeant!”

  A middle aged man sat behind what I assumed was his desk, duct taped to his office chair. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his green eyes wide as I approached. A thick band circled his waist, explosives and a countdown timer smack in the middle. I cursed again and checked the mental ticker counting down the time in my head for the bomb in my hands. “We’ve got another device, Lt. This one takes priority. Live bait.”

  I knew he’d understand what I meant. Live bait meant human. I gently deposited my cargo by the door and walked the perimeter of the office, checking for trip switches or other hidden surprises. A shadow darkened the door and I looked up, nodding at the tech sent in to retrieve the primary bomb. He gave me a thumbs up and backed away, clearing the building. If I wasn’t successful, the blast area would exceed the space of the office.

  The car
pet squished beneath my feet as I crouched in front of the executive. He’d pissed himself. I couldn’t say I was shocked. Given the situation, I would have done the same. Probably throw in a few Hail Mary’s, too. The timer taped to his belly ticked down the seconds. One minute, thirty seconds. One minute, twenty-nine seconds. I didn’t have long. Time to get moving.

  Removing a tool from my belt, I leaned in for a closer look at the wires branching out from the timer. There wasn’t time to remove the device and get both of us to safety. Disarming the bomb, however, was a challenge. The son-of-a-bitch who put it together added a tangle of wires and made it damn near impossible to weed out the one that would stop the timer.

  I isolated what I believed to be the correct wire, positioned the snippers and watched the display as I cut. The countdown continued. Five… Four… Three…

  “Time’s a ticking, Lopez.” The Lieutenant barked in my com piece. “What’s the hold up? You’re cutting this dangerously clo…”

  BOOM. “Shit…”

  Heat enveloped me. Blood and gore splattered the front of my helmet, coating my world with little bits of the executive I’d been trying to save from the messy death he’d inevitably faced regardless of my efforts. I jerked, pain blossomed through my body and seared through my head as I sailed through the air. The world began to fade, taking on shades of grey and black around the edges. This… This is not good. I flipped like a tumbleweed, end over end. The ground rushed up to meet me, and I skidded for what felt like forever. Blood coated my helmet visor as I planted face down and let the darkness overtake me. My last thought as I gave myself up to oblivion, Guess I won’t be having beers with Mitchell tonight.

  ***

  Olivia

  I tore my attention from the radio broadcasting news of the explosion across the room and turned to the patient reclined on the therapy table beside me. Officer Mitchell sat up, reaching for his dark blue t-shirt as he swung his legs off the table. The sound of doors opening and hurried footfalls filtered into the room. Our facility catered to the local police force and assisted officers with their physiotherapy and rehabilitation needs.

  Mitchell gave me a nod, threading his feet into his shoes. “Sorry, Liv. I’ve gotta be there.”

  “Sure,” I nodded. “No worries. I hope he pulls through. From what you’ve told me, Lopez sounds like a good guy.” He nodded, his gaze vacant and his mind focused elsewhere. I gave his bicep a squeeze. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll have Melissa schedule another appointment later this week and give you a call with the info.”

  He shrugged into his police issue windbreaker and gave me an absentminded nod. “Yeah, sure. Thanks. See you.”

  The door shut behind him and left me in the quiet mid-afternoon sun dappled room. I pulled the sheet off my therapy table, tossed it in the laundry bin across the room and reached into the cabinet behind me for a new one. A soft knock sounded at the door seconds before it opened to admit the receptionist, Melissa. I smiled and waved her in.

  “Holy mass exodus, Batman.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the hall behind her. I nodded, smoothing the new sheet over my worktable. “So, I was thinking. It’s doubtful the rest of our clients will be coming in this afternoon. Shall we call it a day and close up shop?”

  I dropped a small pillow at the head of the table and let out a long sigh. “Yeah. Go ahead and head out. I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on, and then I’ll follow.” She shot me a grin and turned to leave. “Have fun. See you in the morning.”

  “Same bat time. Same bat channel.”

  A soft chuckle bubbled up before I could stop it. I shook my head and waved her off. Melissa and I had known each other since our college days, becoming fast friends when she’d been assigned as my lab partner one day. She was kooky, and a massive comic lover. Batman, clearly, was her favorite.

  With my room once again setup and neat as a pin, I made a pit stop at the reception desk to gather my client files from the morning, and then meandered down the hall toward the staff room. Other than the brief session with Officer Mitchell, I’d had three other patients and needed to update their dossiers before I left for the day. I pulled the pen from my scrub pants pocket and set to work. It wasn’t often that I got an early break on a double shift day, and I planned to enjoy the few hours between my shift at the physio centre, and the one at the hospital. By enjoy, I meant sleep. A few glorious hours of sac time before twelve hours of tending to patients, comforting family members and dealing with arrogant, god-complex doctors.

  I clicked the pen open and set to work. The sooner I got through these files, the sooner I could crawl between the cool, crisp sheets of my bed.

  Chapter Two

  Olivia

  The elevator doors swished shut behind me as I stepped onto the fourth floor and made my way to the nursing desk. I smiled, giving a little finger wave to the charge nurse as I rounded the counter. She smiled back, swiveling her chair around to face me.

  “Hold up, Liv.” She pushed away from the desk, a pink piece of paper clutched in her left hand. “You’re working ICU tonight. One of their girls called in sick last minute, and they’re desperate for the extra hands.”

  I took the note from her and read the message requesting me to report to the Intensive Care Unit for shift change at six-thirty. A quick glance at the clock above the elevators showed that I had five minutes to haul ass and get up to the unit before I missed report. “Thanks, Betty.”

  She smiled and waved me off. “Don’t thank me yet. It’s going to be a zoo. The entire MVPD is up there waiting to see if that bomb tech pulls through. I hope you ate your Wheaties before coming in tonight, girl. You’re going to need it.”

  A sweat broke out over my skin as her words sank in. I’d forgotten about the explosion this morning, and the officer who’d been caught in the middle of it. I clutched the strap of my backpack and threw a quick wave at Betty as I dashed for the stairs. There wasn’t time to wait for the elevator, and I’d make it faster by taking the stairs up the three flights. I hadn’t planned on a cardio workout today, but it looked like I was going to get one anyway.

  I pushed through the seventh floor doors two minutes later, and walked into a sea of men and women. Officers in plain clothes and uniforms crowded around every inch of the hall and waiting room. I felt the weight of their eyes on me as they watched my progress toward the ICU doors. Only when the heavy glass partitions closed behind me did the heaviness fall away.

  “You must be Olivia.” A stocky, dark haired man in blue scrubs rounded the end of the nurse’s desk and crossed toward me. I nodded and met him halfway. He smiled and gestured for me to follow him. “I’m Francis, the charge nurse on duty tonight. Thanks for filling in. Margery’s been having a rough go with this pregnancy. I expect you’ll be with us for the foreseeable future.” He grasped the handle to the break room and gave it a twist. “Welcome to the ICU. We’ll get you introduced to the others and then I’ll give you a quick tour of the unit before you make the rounds of your patients.”

  Seven women waited for us in the break room. I smiled as they all swiveled to look at us. Francis gestured toward a chair and I draped my backpack over the back of it before sitting down. He motioned to each of the ladies in turn, introducing them as Patty, Lisa, June, April, Marie, Liz and Jackie. We exchanged nods by way of greeting and Francis got down to the business of reporting on the patients currently under the care of the ICU. April, Marie, Liz and Jackie each gave a rundown of how their patients were progressing, and any special requirements each one had.

  The last to go, Liz glanced at me as she began her report. “You’ll be taking over my patients, Olivia. Well, two of them.”

  I frowned, recalling the full unit Francis and I had walked through on our way to report. “Why only two?”

  “Because,” she bit her lip and cut a glance at Francis. “You’ll be caring for Sergeant Lopez, and with the burden that will put on you… We thought it might be best to keep your case l
oad smaller.”

  Liz handed me a digital tablet containing the patient’s chart. She filled me in on the details from surgery and I kept pace with her as I took notes. Francis dismissed the meeting, and Liz stood. “Come on. It’s probably better if I just take you over and give you the visual tour of his injuries, and whatnot. Francis can do the unit tour afterward.”

  I nodded, picked up my things, and motioned for her to lead the way. She led me through the ICU to a room in the middle of the department. The curtains were drawn behind the glass partition, and a dim light shone from behind the patient’s bed. I set the tablet on a bedside table and turned to get my first proper look at Sergeant Lopez.

  Heavy sedation kept him under its thrall in order to give the swelling in his brain time to come down. Thick, dark lashes rested against his bruised cheekbones. A laceration bisected his face from the tip of his right eyebrow, across the sharp ridge of his nose, and ended an inch below the mid-point of his left eye. The surgeons had done a good job of stitching it together. Provided he healed well, the scarring would be minimal. Stark white bandages covered from his brows to his hairline, wrapping around the unconscious Sergeant’s head.

  It was hard to tell thanks to the swelling, but I was good at reading faces and could almost make out the strong lines and bold strokes of his features. Even bruised and battered as he was, my artistic eyes could see the beauty beneath. I knew, without a doubt, that I’d be drawing him in my sketchbook. The feel of my favorite charcoal pencil was already a tangible weight between my fingers.

  “We cleaned up as much of the sand as we could.” Liz pointed to Lopez’s hair, a thick mop of curly brown locks caked in dried blood and sand that spilled out from the top of his dressings. She gave me a small, apologetic smile. “If you can manage it, a gentle wash should get the rest of the guck out. I haven’t had the time to get around to it. Chief Decker’s been a demanding pain in my rear since the minute Sergeant Lopez was wheeled into the unit.”