Destiny Calls by Samantha Wayland (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📗

along with Carter and McGuire. Well, McGuire had volunteered and Carter had stood up with his partner so he didn"t look like a complete asshole.

But then Sully had offered to stay back with Destiny and the SWAT guys had offered him a seat in their truck, and the next thing he knew, he"d suited up and gone out.

It seemed everyone had known he needed to be there, even if he hadn"t figured it out. And hell, they didn"t know the half of it.

Or, at least, they hadn"t until a stoned Patrick had declared his love over the police band radio.

Brandon"s mind began to spin with the consequences of that. He was pretty sure he could blame the drugs, chalk it up to old friends loving one another in the buddy-like way. Maybe he could sell it that Cub was a childhood nickname or something.

It could work, even if it really fucking sucked.

He might have stood in the street all night, staring at the point where the ambulance had disappeared around the corner, but a couple of his and Patrick"s friends from SWAT grabbed his arms and hauled his ass back into the truck. The ride to the station was boisterous, the lingering effects of adrenaline making for lively conversation and ribald teasing. Even the normally subdued Anna Hernandez, their best sharpshooter, was in on the color commentary. She joked she hadn"t seen Patrick that drunk since the Department won the annual softball game against the firefighters.

No one mentioned Patrick"s declarations of love, though Brandon knew every single one of them had heard it through their ear piece.

Brandon joined in the laughter, firing back when his or Patrick"s honor needed defending. But mostly he just worried about Patrick.

Anna patted his knee when he fell quiet for a moment. He looked up at her and she smiled fondly. She mouthed, “He"ll be fine” before winking at him.

He gave her a tentative smile back. She just rolled her eyes and laughed.

189

Samantha Wayland

He started to convince himself it didn"t mean she knew. That she understood. Then a large, hard shoulder bumped him from the side. He turned to look at David Zapetti.

“Hey, man,” Zapetti murmured with good humor, pitching his voice beneath the raucous laughter around them. “Stop mooning, for Christ"s sake. He"ll be fine. We"ll get the paperwork shit cleared out fast and then you three can go home and do whatever it is you do when no one is looking.”

Brandon responded automatically. “What? I don"t know—” Zapetti cut him off with a laugh and another shoulder bump. “Save it, man. You"re not fooling anyone. And if anyone cares? It"s just "cause they"re jealous, Cub.” Brandon blinked at his friend, a man with a bodybuilder"s physique, a legendary rapport with the ladies, an MP5 submachine gun slung around his neck and a gold cross tucked into his bulletproof vest.

He honestly didn"t know what the fuck to say.

Destiny woke up and couldn"t remember where she was. She was about to sit up when the press of a hard metal into her hip reminded her she was sleeping on a tiny cot in an empty office at the Boston Police Department.

When Captain Sullivan had set up the space for her, she"d thought she"d never be able to get to sleep. In reality, she thought she might have passed out in under three minutes.

She never would have guessed there was so much paperwork to go along with police work. She"d heard the boys complain about it every day of their careers, but since she lived in paperwork up to her eyeballs, she"d always dismissed their bitching. Now having seen the mountain of forms that went along with five arrests and a SWAT Team deployment, she had to agree.

Amidst the grueling red tape, there had been some interesting moments. Brandon was able to identify the other two attackers from the first assault and she the young addict who had approached her on the street. He was the saddest of the bunch—barely twenty and hooked on god-only-knew what.

She"d wanted to hate him, but in the end had only been able to thank him. He"d been the reason she"d returned to Patrick and Brandon. Of course, this hadn"t been his intent, but in his own sad, broken way, he"d been trying to help her.

She could only hope that someday he"d understand. Love beats hate. Every time.

She"d been delighted by the arrival of Ryanne Choate, an old friend theirs going back to high school days. She"d be the District Attorney on this whole big mess, which made Destiny feel confident it would all work out well. They"d had a couple minutes to talk, mostly about the case, but long enough to be reminded that Ryanne"s son, Jack, was growing up too fast. How could he already be a year old?

Destiny smiled into her makeshift pillow, imagining a little boy with big blue eyes and blond curls running through Ethel"s house.

190

Destiny Calls

She needed to find Patrick. She needed to have him and Brandon in her arms, whole and healthy, so she could tell them what was in her heart. What had always been in her heart.

She"d come too close to losing it all.

She remembered how Ryanne and Captain Sullivan had calmly discussed whether to charge everyone with conspiracy to commit murder. She"d swayed on her feet, stumbling into Captain Sullivan"s steady arm.

They"d intended to kill Patrick. To take him away from her forever. Despite knowing the truth, to hear them voice it had been terrifying. After holding herself together for what had felt like eternity, waiting for Brandon and the SWAT Team to report back, hearing Patrick declare his love over the radio, even knowing Patrick was safe, she had fallen apart.

Sometimes a person needed a really good cry. This had definitely been one of those times.

Lord, she"d been beside herself. In hindsight, she could acknowledge that Captain Sullivan had been right to insist she get some sleep. She"d been running on absolute empty.

She"d lain down with the intention