Wolf’s Heart (2 page)

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Authors: Ruelle Channing,Cam Cassidy

BOOK: Wolf’s Heart
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She couldn’t say that she had a terrible childhood. What did she have to compare it to? She had clothes, food, and a roof over her head. Life just was what it was. Lots of doctor visits, lots of time spent alone with nannies and tutors. Regular school was out of the question as she grew up. Risking an infection or a virus was not acceptable. It would put Kyle at risk, not only from the virus itself, but also risked the blood supply he so desperately needed in order for him to live a normal life.

She and Kyle were close. He was her big brother so, then and now, she would do anything for him. Waiting on transfusions, she would sit in his room and read anything she could get her hands on. The gift of learning came easy. Of course, the private tutors helped. Carlee learned more about Kyle’s disease and prognosis than probably even the doctors knew, definitely more than her parents. The problem came when her marrow was not a match for the transplant. That disappointment rocked the world of the entire family.

She was only ten when her parents found a doctor who was willing to try a bone marrow biopsy. Her veins were giving out. She was becoming anemic and not growing at the same rate as most children. She was shorter, paler, and more tired than most would be. Not that the thought of changing anything came to mind. Donating blood meant spending time with Kyle.

To say her parents were furious would have been an understatement. The doctor was forced to slow down the blood they took from her for fear of malpractice. Even her parents offering extra cash couldn’t persuade him to put his license on the line.

That was when she learned the truth about her place in her family and the real reason she had been born. Failing the bone marrow test was her parents’ ultimate disappointment and, thus, her ultimate failure. That was the last time she saw Kyle. She remembered sobbing as the maid packed her suitcase. Her parents had not even come home to say goodbye.

Her mind flashed forward to the missing photo. She had been coming out of a tattoo parlor grinning, too lost in her own thoughts of what her boyfriend, Ryden, would think or, to be more precise, what he would do when he saw the tat. Walking through the door, she did a face plant on a hard, obviously male chest. Snorting and rubbing her nose she looked up and squealed as she looked into Kyle’s eyes.

“Kyle! Oh, my god!”

He looked fantastic, healthy for the first time in what seemed like forever. Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close to his chest, laughing as she croaked out “Need some oxygen here, Bro.”

Kyle had let her go, and held on to her arms as he took a step back to look at her. “I have looked everywhere for you and now I find you hanging out in a tattoo shop? Wait, exactly what are you doing here, little sister?”

Carlee grinned, reaching down to lower the waist band of her lime green sweats to reveal the peach she just had tattooed on her hip. Kyle let go of her arms and held his hands in the air.

“If that thing goes any lower I do not wanna see. Some things just aren’t meant for a brother’s eyes, ya know what I mean?” 

Carlee watched his eyes as he looked at the tat, she saw the unasked question.

“A peach? I know there’s a story behind that, but there is no way I wanna go there. To me you’re forever fifteen. I’m just glad it isn’t some guy’s name or initials. Of course, that would give me a clue as to the person I need to kill if he breaks your heart.” 

It was as if he knew the little trip her mind had just taken, and he reached out and wrapped his arm around her neck nearly putting her in a choke hold.

“Come on, Car, you can stay with me while I get some ink for myself. How about two stars, one on each pec? One for you, one for me.” She remembered laughing as he flexed his muscles, making his pecs dance before she followed him back inside.  

 As they sat inside and the artist, Jonah, began with the needle, Kyle showed no pain. He looked at her and laughed, “Lemme guess, you cried like a baby during yours?”

 She opened her mouth to argue, but Jonah nodded his head erasing any hope that Kyle would believe the tough girl act. “No, I didn’t!  Well, not exactly like a baby. I may have whimpered a few times, or six or seven. You know I hate needles.” 

 Kyle reached out and touched her cheek. There was always sadness when he was young. His gaze was different now. The sadness was still there, but there was something else. Anger.

“You know if I could’ve changed things for you Carlee, I would have. I’m sorry for what they did to you.”

 She had to blink away the tears that stung her eyes. After all this time they were
not
going to talk about the past. “Hey, it was what I was made for. Looks like they finally found a cure. You look fantastic.”

 The tattoo gun buzzed along as they talked. “Dad found some new wonder drug that put me into remission about nine months ago. I’ve been doing great ever since.” 

 Time in the tattoo parlor seemed to fly. In no time, both stars were completed and Kyle stood up, making the stars dance as he flexed his muscles. “Come on, let’s go for coffee.” 

 It had been so long since she had seen him, there was no way she was letting him get away this quick. This time, as she walked out the door, her eyes were open. Standing against a dark SUV parked at the curb was her father. He never looked her way, his voice was firm. The Major was not one to make requests.

“Get in Kyle, you have an appointment.” 

 Even without touching him, Carlee felt Kyle’s irritation. “I was going to go have coffee with Carlee. It can wait.” 

 Their father took a step away from the curb. “No, it can’t wait. Enough of this foolishness. Get in.” 

 Kyle turned to his sister, obviously sensing her unease. “Come along, it can be like old times and you can tell me all about the man behind that tattoo you got.”

 “Carlee isn’t needed at this time. It will just be the usual staff. We keep with the program. No deviations. It is working well for us. Of course, you understand, Carlee.”

 She shouldn’t have been surprised by her father’s actions but somehow always was. “Of course, sir. It was nice seeing you again, too.”

 Kyle’s embrace was quick, her tears held back as he whispered his cell number in her ear before getting in the SUV. Her father never looked back as he got in and they drove away. She refused to let herself feel anything except the happiness at having Kyle back in her life. 

Voices out in the hall brought Carlee back to the present and her missing photo. She made it to the door just in time to watch two men turn the corner at the end of the hall. She knew for sure one was Special Agent Achilles Giannopolous. She would know those tight buns anywhere. She didn’t get a good enough glimpse at who he was with, but something about him was familiar. She just couldn’t put a finger on it.

 The phone rang, and she rushed to pick it up as she continued to search the room for the missing picture.

“Carlee’s Kingdom.”

There was a slight chuckle on the phone as Jacob spoke. “Get ready, Car. Fresh meat coming in. The body looks to be another one from your case.”

Without waiting for a reply she hung up the phone and headed out the door. The mystery of the missing pic was gonna have to wait for now.

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Carlee rushed downstairs to pick up the box of evidence to bring back to her lab. Her mind was wandering in every direction—the missing photo, what Agent Giannopolous had been doing there, and who he was with. The elevator was moving too damn slow and she cursed herself for not taking the steps. Instead, she was sucked into the time warp of her thoughts.

There were so many things that she had missed out on being kept mostly at home. She buried herself in her studies. She graduated college with a double major in pathology and computer technology. She teased her friends that she was a geek no one would want to cross.

 “Have you watched
Dexter
?” she told a classmate. “I could be a serial killer and no one would know.” 

Money was never a problem. Her parents were loaded. She let them pay for school, she wasn’t an idiot. When she needed extra cash for clothes, weekend trips or play time, she could get it by hacking into the school database and fixing grades for those who weren’t blessed with the genius gene. Writing a term paper here and a thesis there also got her by. 

At twenty-one, she had her master’s and by twenty-two was working for the FBI. Not that she started out wanting to work there. She anticipated working her way through the system just like anyone else. However, Major Daddy had other plans. She knew the truth; he had pulled strings to get her in. It wasn’t something that he had done for her. It was for him. If anyone found his daughter was working in some lowly office, he would die of embarrassment. She blamed it on a moment of weakness after receiving the “Dear Jane” phone call from her boyfriend, Ryden, that she accepted the position. She had been devastated by that call. The job at the FBI crime lab would keep her mind busy. 

The Major did his duty by making an appearance her first day on the job. She had to admit, it was pretty embarrassing when she walked past him without recognizing him. His hand had come out of nowhere as she made her way to the lab.

 “Carlee, it is nice to see you again.” 

 She stopped dead and nearly tripped. It was the voice more than the hand that got to her. Reaching out, she took it, remembering to grip firmly.

“It’s nice to see you again, sir.”

Carlee knew as Carl O’Shannon took her hand and looked her over, that he was wondering if he had made the right decision. Except for that one night at the tattoo shop, she had not seen him since she was in her teens. Kyle had given her his cell number that night, but by the next day, it had been disconnected.
She knew the Major had her watched to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid that would put him or Kyle at risk.

She could see the flexing of his jaw muscles as he looked at her hair. She wore it long, colored black with purple streaks. On her feet were high heel tennis shoes with lime green socks. She knew that she was pushing the limits of the dress code but any chance to irritate the Major was taken advantage of. Grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her close so that only she could hear his voice. Anyone else would have thought it was an embrace. Anyone else would have been wrong. 

“You could have at least made yourself presentable. Do not embarrass me here, Carlee. I put you into this position, I can have you removed.” 

 Carlee plastered a fake smile on her face. His feelings, or lack of feelings, for her were already known. She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter. That he couldn’t hurt her anymore. If only it was the truth. 

Looking up at him, she said, “You seriously think the stilettos would have worked better? I thought they might give me trouble at the crime scenes.” 

A voice from down the hall called her father’s name, saving her from the rest of the lecture that was sure to come. His hand slid from her shoulder to her arm.

 “Don’t push Carlee. Remember, I will be watching.” 

 With that, Major Daddy made his way down the hall. She turned to watch him shake hands and exchange greetings with her director. Sticking out her tongue behind his back before she turned, she made her way to the lab. One look at the place and his nastiness was forgotten.

 She had to give the old man credit, though. He was right. Working for the feds turned out to be one sweet gig, and she was in DC, not a far commute from the few friends from college or her old stomping grounds in Baltimore. The lab was equipped with all of the latest and greatest gadgets, the absolute best that money could buy. The job freakin’ rocked! She had hit the big time at a full run. Her brain went into overdrive with every case that she worked. Each one was like a puzzle that she just had to solve.

 The elevator was taking forever. She watched as the lights illuminated to show each floor they passed. She had to keep reminding herself to focus on the case, not on the past.  

 She had been working days and sometimes nights trying to figure it out. The pieces were finally falling into place. Dead bodies were lining up, cause of death, designer drugs. These drugs were coming in faster than counterfeit designer fashions in the spring. Carlee knew that the drugs killed them, but the even stranger part was that the bodies were missing vital organs—livers, kidneys, lungs, hearts.  

The elevator signaled the third floor and she stuck out her tongue at the light. The missing photo had opened a portal to the past that she wished to hell would close. 

She didn’t need a calendar to tell her that it had been just over three years since she had her heart ripped from her chest. It had to be thinking about the tattoo that caused Ryden’s face to pop into her mind. That was a lie and she knew it. She just didn’t want to consciously she still thought of him. Even now, she sometimes felt her heart would break all over again when she heard a certain song or smelled a certain cologne.

Her fingers seemed to move to her hip on their own and pressed against the skin.
I swear, I am going to get that tattoo turned into an eight ball, or a grenade.

Truth was, she had planned on it more than once but didn’t seem to be able to go through with the cover-up. Instead, she kept it as a reminder of what happens when you give your heart, when you trust someone too much. You get scarred. Maybe if she covered it, there wouldn’t be the constant reminder of what a schmuck she had been. She knew what military men were like. Major Daddy was a perfect example. Ryden had worked his way past the walls she built only to turn around and fire a bazooka from half-way around the world and shatter her heart. She swore she would never get that close to anyone again.

The opening of the elevator door brought her out of her not-so-happy place. She was startled to see Special Agent Achilles Giannopolous standing outside the door.

“’Sup, G?” 

“That’s Special Agent G to you, baby.”

 He placed a kiss on her neck as she walked out of the elevator. His large hand slid down her back, over the curve of her ass in a caress. 

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