Fatal Vision: SEALs of Shadow Force, Book 5 Read online

  “Dude,” the black bouncer was only a few feet away. “You can’t be in here.”

  The butchy female therapist stopped helping her patient with a bicep curl and headed for him too. “No dogs allowed unless they’re certified therapy dogs.”

  “Oh, he’s certified.” Colton gave Salisbury a stern look, but the dog was squirming like he had to pee. Or he smelled bacon. Colton sniffed the air.

  Nope, no bacon.

  Raising his voice, he hollered loud enough for the whole room to hear. “I’m looking for Shelby Bells—um, Claiborne. Kinda short, blond, lots of Okie attitude? Anyone?”

  A man in a stuffy suit and tie flew out of an office on the other side of the gym, pointing a finger. “Do not let him in here.”

  “I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Bouncer said.

  “How did you get past the front desk?” Butchy asked.

  Sal snapped and growled, gaze pinned on Mr. Suit. The dog took that moment to break free, scratching Colton’s side with his nails as he launched himself at the man bearing down on them.

  Covert mission this was not.

  Colton dodged Bouncer’s hand as the big man reached for him, then sidestepped Butchie and ran after Salisbury. The dog raced around various patients, barking furiously at Suit.

  Suit whipped his jacket back and Colton’s heart did a triple whammy.

  Holster.

  Gun.

  Shit.

  Security may have been lacking at the entrances, but inside here, they apparently took it seriously.

  Chaos reigned as people shouted and either dodged for the dog or out of Salisbury’s way.

  “Salisbury!” Colton called, jumping over a stack of mats. “Cease!”

  The dog stopped two feet in front of Suit, lips curled in a low growl. The man didn’t seem too worried about the dog; his hard gaze was pinned on Colton.

  Rigid stance, buzz cut, twitchy fingers hovering over his piece. Military or law enforcement? Was he really going to pull a weapon in here? With all these people?

  Over a fucking twelve-pound dog?

  Grabbing Sal by the scruff, Colton picked him up and shushed him. That’s all he needed—to get the sorry mutt shot.

  He put on his best good-ol’-boy smile. “Sorry about that, man. He’s a therapy dog, but we’re still working out a few kinks, like his temperament. You haven’t seen a short, blond gal in here, have you?”

  Bouncer came up behind Colton and grabbed him by the back of his jacket collar and Colton suddenly knew how Sal felt, struggling in his grasp. Bouncer flung Colton around and pushed him toward the door. “You, out.”

  With the dog filling up his hands, Colton had limited means to take down Bouncer, and although he certainly could, even with Sal in tow, he didn’t want to beat up anyone in here, since that would certainly not help him find Shelby. He’d end up outside on his ass.

  Or in jail.

  Although Suit seemed ripe for a fight…

  Especially when he stepped in front of Bouncer. “Wait.”

  Bouncer stopped, as did Colton. Salisbury bared his teeth again.

  Suit glared at the dog, then back at Colton. “This man is wanted in conjunction with a federal investigation. I’ll take it from here.”

  What the hell was he talking about? “You must have me confused with someone else,” Colton said, shaking off Bouncer’s beefy grip. “I’m just looking for my wife.”

  “Ex-wife.”

  The sound of Shelby’s voice cut through the chaos. Colton nearly lost his hold on Sal. Slowly he turned.

  She was short, all right, but his gaze still had to drop a few feet to find her.

  Wheelchair.

  His gut did a somersault.

  But after the chair registered, all he saw was her.

  Beautiful, outspoken, amazing Shelby.

  Her hair was braided on one side, the other side cropped short. That side had been shaved off for the operation three months ago and was now growing out. She wore elegant diamond studs, three rows going up each earlobe and her left sporting a tiny silver loop at the top.

  Devoid of makeup, her blue eyes stood out big over the dark shadows underneath them. The overhead lights made her skin sallow and reflected off the minute diamond stud in her right nostril.

  “And I’m not short,” she added, her soft drawl like sugar on the tongue. “Although I will cop to the big attitude.”

  Her slight smile trembled and Colton fell to his knees in front of her. All he could do was stare.

  Eighteen months. Eighteen months and six days to be exact since their divorce. God, how I’ve missed you. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, beauty queen?”

  “I look like hell and you know it. ’Bout time you got here, Bells. Where have you been?”

  He wanted to reach out and touch her, stroke her face, kiss the scar he could see over her ear through the short hair. “I only found out you were awake last night. I drove straight from DC as soon as I got word.”

  Salisbury eagerly tried to lick her knee. She reached out and let the dog smell her hand, then scratched him under his chin. “That’s an eighteen-hour drive. How’d you get here so fast?”

  He gave her his signature smirk. “I may have broken a few speed limit laws.”

  She returned the smile, but her eyes were sad. “I’ve been asking for you for weeks.”

  He swallowed hard. “No one told me, Shel. I would’ve never left your side in the first place if Jack hadn’t forced me out.”

  She studied him. “You didn’t leave because…?”

  “I would never leave you, Shel. You know that.”

  Colton suddenly felt a claw-like hand latch onto his shoulder. Salisbury jerked around and growled at the same time.

  Suit dug his fingers into Colton’s muscle. “Sorry to break up this little reunion, but you need to come with me.”

  Shelby’s eyes turned fierce. “Leave him alone, Theo.”

  Butchy joined them. “That’s not a therapy dog. He’s got to go.”

  Another therapist in a colorful jacket sidled up to Shelby’s wheelchair. “Is everything okay here, Shelby? You want me to call your dad?”

  “God no, Alicia. That’s the last thing I want.” Shelby pointed a finger at Colton. “This man is probably the only one who can get me walking like normal again. Not with a walker or those parallel bars, but to actually do it with my own willpower.”

  “But dogs aren’t allowed—” Butchy started.

  “He’s a suspect in the murder of three men,” Suit added. “He may be the man who shot you.”

  And whoa. Everyone in the room fell quiet and the therapists all took a step back.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Colton said, rising to his feet and knocking Suit’s hand off his shoulder. “I didn’t shoot Shelby, and I sure as hell didn’t murder anyone.”

  Shelby grabbed her head and rubbed her temple. “This is giving me a headache.” She shot Suit a chastising glare. “He’s not a suspect, Theo. He’s a potential source. But thank you for accusing my ex-husband of trying to off me in front of a room full of people.”

  Theo’s dark brows pushed together even harder. “His picture is in your file with your notes.”

  Colton had plenty of experience keeping emotions off his face, but he couldn’t help his jaw dropping open as he faced Shelby. “You think I killed someone?”

  “Just…” She held up both hands, her eyes darting around at the onlookers. “Can we please discuss this somewhere private?”

  “You sure you don’t want me to throw him out?” Bouncer said.

  “No, but thank you.” Shelby smiled up at the big man, all beauty queen charm. “He’s completely harmless. I promise.”

  “Harmless?” Colton said, slightly mortified. Sure, he wasn’t a SEAL anymore, but he was hardly harmless.

  “I don’t trust him,” Theo said.

  “I don’t know who the hell you are,” Colton sneered. “But I don’t much trust you either,
pal.”

  Sal growled again, adding emphasis.

  “Good boy.” Colton scratched behind the dog’s tufted ears.

  “Both of you cool it!” Shelby wheeled her chair around them. “My room, now.”

  The people in the gym went back to their sessions, a few of the women giving Colton a thumbs-up or a grin.

  He waved at them and Theo looked fit to be tied

  Colton gave the man a bring-it-on grin as they both followed Shelby to the exit.

  MEN. WHY DID she have to be blessed with so many alpha males in her life?

  Shelby shook her pounding head as she wheeled into her room. What the hell had Theo been thinking to discuss her ongoing murder investigation—and accuse Colton of being a suspect—in front of all those people?

  It wasn’t like him. Not at all.

  Her room was decorated tastefully, thanks to her mother. The dove-white walls and taupe carpet had been livened up with a bright yellow quilt on the bed and pictures of her family lined up on a shelf near the window. Plants from friends along with balloons and cards added to the cheerful, get-well-soon vibe.

  Shelby planted her wheelchair at the end of the twin bed and turned to face the two men standing uncomfortably inside her door. Smoothing her braid, she made quick introductions, then said, “Theo, can you give Colton and I a minute?”

  Theo’s brows crashed down. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. You and I should talk first.” He shot Colton a glare. “Alone.”

  If only she could walk like normal. She’d march over to him and kick his shin. “I’m perfectly safe with Colton. I do want to discuss the case with you, but I need a few minutes alone with my hus—ex-husband.”

  Colton’s lips quirked, a half-smile that normally made her blood pressure rise. Since she was so happy to see him, all it did was make her smile too.

  Theo seemed to realize he wasn’t going to get his way with this, his fingers gripping the blue folder in his hand so hard he nearly bent it in half.

  He faced Colton, although he spoke to Shelby. “I’ll be right outside this door.”

  The two of them were nearly the same height, but that’s where the similarities ended. Theo was a buttoned-up, classic Type-A overachiever in expensive suits and family money. Colton, his direct opposite, didn’t have two nickels to rub together or an ounce of ambition after six gunshot wounds nearly killed him and ended his career as a Navy SEAL. Outside of being a SEAL—the only goal he’d ever had in life—he didn’t have a single thing he cared about.

  Except me.

  But then, she’d divorced his sorry ass after the 12 September mission. In the dark recesses of her brain, she knew that was the reason Colton had put himself in the line of fire over and over again in the field, until he’d taken those six near-fatal bullets.

  Suicide wasn’t an option for him, but dying for his country was.

  In Colton’s arms, the scruffy dog bared his teeth at Theo. Colton showed his too, only his were disguised as that cocky smile.

  Theo sent her one more quick glance to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind. She didn’t so much as blink.

  Colton didn’t look at her until the door closed behind the ASAC. When he finally did, her heart stuttered in her chest. He looked so strung out, just utterly destroyed as his eyes ran over her—and not just her, her wheelchair—she didn’t know what to say.

  Sadness. Intense sadness.

  “Please tell me you’re not feeling sorry for me.”

  His face softened. “What?”

  “You’re looking at me like I’m two steps away from my grave.”

  The dog wriggled in his arms. Colton freed it, and he ran right over to her and jumped in her lap.

  “Salisbury, get down,” Colton reprimanded.

  Salisbury went right for her face, licking her and making her laugh. “It’s okay. I like him.”

  “He has absolutely no manners.”

  “That makes two of you.”

  Colton forced a smile, the action not reaching his eyes. “I’m dog-sitting for a friend.”

  “You were always good with dogs. Remember Kala? God, she loved you.”

  His face took on that sad-happy countenance when people remembered a beloved pet who had passed away. “I snuck her slices of bologna all the time from the Home. Outside of you, that dog was the only living creature that ever cared about me in this town. And by the way, I was not feeling sorry for you.”

  He closed the distance between them, scrubbing Salisbury’s ears as he plunked down on the bed across from her. “I would never pity you, Shelby. You know that.”

  She did know, and not just because she was sitting in a swanky rehab place when thousands of his military brothers and sisters struggled with life-altering disabilities and PTSD.

  “I’m just tired, cranky, and hungry,” he added. The dog jumped off her lap onto the bed to lick Colton’s face. He wiped the dog kisses off with the sleeve of his shirt. “It was a long fucking drive, and then I get here and asshat out there accuses me of murdering people and shooting you.”

  He’d driven straight through. To see her.

  I’d lie a thousand times over to protect you. The memory of his voice made her blink.

  Had he ever lied to protect her? Her gut said yes, yet her brain couldn’t place when or for what.

  Gripping the arms of her chair, she hoisted herself up, balancing until she could take that first step toward the bed.

  Colton, suddenly alert, reached for her, but she shook her head. “Let me do it.”

  Keeping her gaze pinned on him, she thought of all the good times they’d had as kids. The night he’d proposed. Their honeymoon.

  His laughter echoed in the recesses of her memories. That damn cocky smile was there too, clearing away so much of the trauma she’d been through in the past few months.

  He had no reason to be here, other than for her. That was the best medicine she could ask for.

  Her right knee lifted and her foot moved as if by magic. Taking a deep breath, she stopped, focusing on her balance and Colton’s haggard, but so damned welcome, face.

  Feeling steadier than she’d felt all day, she walked her left foot forward and gave her right the command to follow.

  It did, and she nearly laughed with relief. She stood right in front of Colton, soaking him in.

  He needed a shower and shave. A haircut wouldn’t hurt either. But his presence lifted her mood, the smell of coffee and his deodorant filling her nostrils and bringing back that old feeling. The one where she felt safe.

  She hadn’t felt that in a long time.

  A bubble of fear hit her out of nowhere and her vision blurred like it did sometimes when her blood pressure spiked.

  Amazing how much people depended on their eyesight for balance. One second she was fine—ecstatic, actually—and the next, her vision went fuzzy and oops.

  She tipped slightly backward, her right foot refused to shift, and the next thing she knew, she was toppling over.

  Strong hands grabbed her and her butt landed perfectly in Colton’s lap. “Whoa, there, little filly.”

  Warm, brown eyes met hers, full of humor and a bit of vulnerability.

  “Little filly? Really?”

  “You’re all determination and excitement right now, but no coordination. Just like a newborn filly.”

  She chuckled. He was maddening, but she loved it. “And…?”

  One of his warm hands was on her lower back. The other across her lap, holding onto her wrist and rubbing the skin where her pulse skipped. “And what?”

  “I know you want to say it. You’re the colt to my filly?”

  He made a fake frown. “We’re both of breeding age, as I recall, so it’s more like my stallion to your mare.”

  That cocky grin, always just below the surface, emerged once more and he waggled his eyebrows at her.

  A shot of heat tightened her lower belly. She reached for her braid and twirled it. Yes, indeed, they had certainly prove
n many times over that they were of breeding age. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too. I think,” he added, his gaze dropping to her lips.

  Everything in her wanted to throw her arms around him. To nestle into the safety only he could provide. “You think?”

  He brushed a stray hair from her cheek. “I was worried about you, Shel. It made me crazy that someone would take a shot at you. I searched for months, but…”

  “Shh.” She touched a finger to his lips. “I know you did everything you could to find the shooter.”

  He kissed the tip of her finger. “Jack told you?”

  She drew her finger away, sure she shouldn’t be having so many fantasies about him, or sitting on his lap thinking about making a few of them come true. “Momma did.”

  “Oh.”

  One word, but it was loaded with pain and unsaid emotions. The leakage was all over his face as he looked away.

  Growing up, Colton hadn’t had a mother; his alcoholic father had bailed when Colton was seven, dropping him off at the local orphanage. He’d lived there until one of her Dad’s flock had taken him in. The Sampsons were active members of the Good Hope Church and Colton and Shelby saw each other for Sunday School and youth group activities.

  But Colton suffered from ADD and was always getting into fistfights at school. He eventually ended up back at Good Hope Children’s Home when the Sampsons divorced. Her parents had repeatedly tried to save him, believing God would send a miracle, but God had other plans, and finally, like everyone else in Colton’s life, they’d given up too.

  I’m sorry, Colton. Shelby wished she could say the words out loud. To clear the air. But she’d tried that many times over the years and it had never worked. There was too much pain and disappointment between them. Sorry just didn’t cut it anymore.

  “I sure am glad you’re up and about,” he said.

  “I’m grateful to be alive, but to be honest, my progress has been frustratingly slow.”

  “Why did you tell Martha you wanted to see me?”

  “I’m hoping you can shed some light on what happened that night. Why did I ask you to meet me at the house?”

  He hesitated. Gave her a blank look.

  “Don’t tell me you have no idea why I wanted to talk to you that night.”