Guarding Hope (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha) Read online

  Guarding Hope (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha)

  C.M. Steele

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

  © 2019 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Police and Fire: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!

  If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.

  This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.

  I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!

  READ ON!

  Xoxo

  Susan Stoker

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by C.M. Steele

  More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books

  Books by Susan Stoker

  About the book

  After running away from his heritage, former District Attorney Gage Gibson returned to his roots —cattle ranching.

  Things were running smoothly…in fact, much better than he expected, but a quick lunch with some of his law enforcement buddies changed everything. Gage got himself a stalker, a sexy stalker at that. He’d left their get together missing something but decided it was best to forget the red-headed beauty.

  Running scared, Hope Cummings had to get out of Texas and away from the man who helped make her and the man he sold her freedom to. Ducking and dodging people including an insanely hot cowboy, she found herself trapped like a rat.

  With nowhere to run, she’d given her trust to the handsome stranger.

  Gage wouldn’t take her safety lightly; he’d guard her with his life.

  Chapter 1

  “Alfonzo, she’s worth the ten million.”

  Hope closed her eyes, trying to breathe, but the burning ache in her chest made it difficult. Her father’s words were like a hot branding iron on her heart.

  Ten million, Hope mouthed, incredulously shaking her head as she sat in the tiny hidden room between her father’s office and the library. A lone tear spilled down her face, falling onto her lap. She was nothing but a commodity to be traded. A lifetime investment that had reached maturity with the payout massive.

  From the moment her mother died, she’d been nothing but a burden to her father. When she received a large inheritance, he demanded she sign it over to him for her safety and because she owed him. He’d forced Hope to sign over the twenty million dollars to build his empire and to buy this estate.

  It made no difference to her if she had twenty million or twenty thousand as long as she escaped her father’s clutches—something she’d been waiting to do since her mother died eight years ago. Her father had done every he could to break her, but this topped it all. Selling off her innocence and freedom was monstrous.

  Gaining control of herself, she tilted her ear toward the door and listened in.

  “No woman’s pussy is worth ten million—not even an untouched one,” the Latin drug lord scoffed in his rich, deep accent. “Your daughter is lovely. And I’d love to take her as my mistress, but for no more than two.”

  “You can’t pump it up to three? She’s beautiful.”

  Hope choked back the tears, pressing her hand over her mouth to stop herself from releasing even the smallest gasp and alerting them to her presence. She knew there was no love from her father. If he found her in this room, he’d have her in Alfonzo Navarro’s hands on the spot.

  Hope had never felt any love from her father or even seen a hint of it throughout her life, but this was beyond pitiful. All her life, she’d wondered why he bothered to keep her under lock and key when he never cared for her. Now, she learned the sickening truth. She’d been a valuable good, gaining stock as her body blossomed into a statuesque redhead with killer tits and ass.

  Her mother had been radiant and stunning with silky red hair and fair skin, and Hope shared those exact same features. She had the Irish roots embedded in her features, making her undeniably gorgeous. Now, it made sense why he limited her contact with the outside world, especially the opposite sex.

  “Two is my final offer. Take it or leave it, Cummings.” The man stood up, sliding the heavy chair back in the process. Hope jumped backward about a foot, startled by the movement. Luckily the sound of him standing up muffled her mistake. She closed her eyes, hoping her father would turn it down.

  “I’ll take it. My habits are getting expensive.”

  A part of Hope died. The last vestiges of familial love had left her soul. She sat there with her arms around her waist, feeling broken, but she continued to eavesdrop on them while staying hidden from view.

  “Well, be careful. You don’t have any other daughters to sell.” Cummings chuckled at Navarro’s warning as if the conversation had been on a frivolous topic. As if somehow, those words weren’t based on his vile choices for his only child. “I want her to be seen by a doctor before she is brought to me. I don’t want damaged merchandise. I can’t say I don’t want her either way, but two million is too much for a popped cherry. Adios.”

  “You don’t want to meet her?” Cummings asked Alfonzo.

  “No. I have seen her picture. I might be too tempted to have a sample,” he insinuated with a lecherous grin. Hope wasn’t sure how she managed to hold down her breakfast as her body revolted at the image of him touching any bit of her. “I’ll be back in town next Sunday. By Monday, I want her in my possession. When she is in the car with my men, I’ll transfer the money. No games, Cummings, or you’ll regret you ever came to me for a favor.”

  Monday—she had until Monday. Hope waited for them to leave the room before she snuck out of her father’s secret panel and then up to her room as quietly as possible. In the house, not a single soul would be looking for her. It was outside that they guarded the front door like a hawk. No way in hell could she escape before they were on her.

  None of her father’s men would assist her. Only once had one of his men been friendly. He’d been close to her age and had taken an interest in her. He’d made her laugh and
was kind until her father found out about their friendly behavior. The guard was transferred, and she never saw him again. Her father promised that he wasn’t killed, but knowing all she did about the bastard old man, the guard had been more than likely…murdered.

  For hours, Hope sat on her bed thinking about the week she had left until she became the property of a man bent on using her body for his own personal pleasure. Gross. She saw a portly, older man who had to be at least her father’s age. Nothing could make him less disgusting. Then to learn that she wouldn’t be his only one, but the one he fucked when he wasn’t fucking someone else.

  She felt the lurch in her gut, sending her running to her en suite bathroom and retching her brains out. Deciding she’d rather live on the streets or in a shelter while she looked for employment in another state than be sold, she had to develop a plan of escape. First, she’d pack only what she could carry. That more than likely meant just her purse because her only avenue to run would be a moment alone away from her guards.

  A knock at her door stopped her movements toward her closet. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, “Yes?” she quavered, her voice cracking and betraying her fears.

  “Open the door, Hope,” her father demanded.

  She opened it for him, or he’d find a reason to search her room. She learned a long time ago that he had no problem being cruel.

  He only raised his fist to her once, but once was all it took for her to bend to his will. She’d managed to watch some YouTube videos on self-defense, but he’d monitored her internet and smashed her computer and phone. He shouted, “Fight me, you little bitch.” When she failed to act, he dragged her by her hair and punched her in the face. “See? You’re weak. Now you better learn your place.” Never again did she get an ounce of freedom.

  He thundered into the room, slamming the door shut, locking it with a hard click before approaching her with visceral intent. He stopped inches from her face, causing her to flinch, which she would berate herself for later, and he said, “Monday you have an appointment with a doctor at the local clinic. It’s not my choice, but you will go. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.” She wasn’t allowed to call him Dad or Father, although calling him either name now only made her stomach turn because he didn’t deserve that title and she wasn’t sure if he ever really had. He moved to the door and looked back at her with a smile.

  “What for?” she asked, wondering if he would be bold enough to tell her. She knew that he couldn’t “damage” the merchandise, so she was safe to question him. Navarro wouldn’t like her coming to him with a busted lip or black eye.

  He narrowed his eyes, raking them over her body. Without missing a beat, a sneer came over his face. “You’re being sold to the highest bidder. I need you inspected.”

  Hope gasped in dismay, pretending to be shocked even as the words hit her like a sheet of ice. He meant to cut her, and he did—deep and unapologetically.

  Seeing her pain had been like icing on the cake for him. He left the room with a sadistic grin of satisfaction and an itch to spend the money he’d already mentally been counting. Two million dollars was well more than what he thought she was worth, but he knew that negotiations had to start high.

  Once his footsteps could be heard going down the stairs, Hope shook off the act she had given him. His words had already done the damage hours ago, but she had a part to play. And like the years Hope spent playing pretend all alone, she’d acted the scene flawlessly.

  She dug into the closet to find her means to escape. What she loved about the mansion were the dozen hiding spots spread throughout the place. She’d learned of them in a short memo left behind by the previous owners that she conveniently shredded, telling not a soul. Digging into the space, she pulled out the money that she’d been saving for just this day. Five thousand dollars wasn’t a lot to live off, but it would be more than enough to escape her traffickers.

  Chapter 2

  The scorching sun beamed down onto the tent as Gage Gibson sat at his first cattle auction in over a decade. He pulled off his hat with a grunt, wiping the cooling sweat off his brow.

  “Suits and cool offices have made you weak,” Colt McCain said, nudging Gage with his elbow. Standing at six-foot-four, Colt with the same broad chest and narrowed waist as Gage, the two could have been brothers instead of cousins.

  “I’ll get used to it. Besides, your ass is just as sweaty.”

  Gage Gibson happened to be one of the best prosecutors in Texas if he said so himself, which he often did, even if just to get a rise out of his friends. He’d gotten more criminal convictions than most because he dug deeper, but in the last two years it had become too draining. Weeks of trial for these judges to give leaner sentences. What was the point? he’d thought many times over. He’d been one of the chief prosecutors out of Austin, but politics had begun to shake his faith in the law so he made the break after clearing out his last caseload.

  He traded in his expensive, tailored suit for a pair of jeans, flannel button-down, and a set of spurs. Gage worked his whole twenties busting his ass to land the lead DA position only to lose his passion for it. Still in his prime at thirty-one, he wanted to feel the Texas sun on his face and working up a sweat like his father and his grandfather before him.

  “But I handle the heat like a real cowboy.”

  Gage winked at Colt, raising his paddle for the next lot of six heifers. Every single cowboy and their hands operated the same way; they pulled out their bandanas from their back pockets and wiped the sweat before tucking it back in. Colt just enjoyed busting his cousin’s chops for leaving ranching in the first place.

  “Screw you. I’m ready to get the hell out of here. I’ve got enough cattle to start.” The auction had over four hundred cattle for sale, and he’d nabbed a fifth of the lots. Thankfully, he’d brought Colt with him, or he’d probably have lost some auctions or overspent.

  “Not enough to turn a profit this year.” Colt, despite being two years younger than his cousin, owned his own ranch two towns over that saw profits from his first year and on.

  “I’m not looking for a profit this year. I’m looking to get back to when my family had one of the largest cattle ranches in Texas.” With a stout inheritance from his grandparents and wise investments he’d made over the past ten years, he didn’t need to work again. But like many Texans, hard work and pure grit were ingrained in each country child from the moment they could walk.

  He still owned the acreage from when his daddy tended cattle, but he sold off all the livestock after his father died. The work was too much for him to handle along with his education and practice.

  After a night of binge drinking in Austin, Gage’s father wrecked his truck into the lone tree in a twenty mile stretch of road. He’d gone and done something awful before that and couldn’t live with the consequences. Apparently, he’d been seeing a woman who broke his heart when he found out she had someone on the side, so he killed the cheating woman. Ironically, he’d been cheating on his wife with the mistress.

  Gage’s mother struggled with the deception and betrayal for years, but his infidelity hadn’t been the only problem. For years, their family name rested in the dirt. Gage had worked hard to wipe the shame away. Once he made a name for himself as one of the most honorable prosecutors around, he felt it was time for him to return to his roots and fix that tarnished brand.

  Sensing the tension rolling through Gage’s large frame, he leaned in and whispered, “Remember, bud. Don’t let your past haunt you. Make smart choices. I say you need eight more yearlings.”

  Pissed at the situation his father created, Gage switched his whole life around to become something more, but his heart finally returned home. Listening to his cousin and reminding himself that sons weren’t always like their fathers, he took a deep breath and collected himself.

  He’d promised himself that he’d never become a wife-beating, cheating bastard like his daddy. It should be easy because Gage had never been a womanizer,
and he wouldn’t start even if he ever got married.

  Some things in your youth just brand you for life. The scars of his father’s deceit never left Gage, and he promised to always be the best man he could be. Now he had to finish what he started and get the cattle he needed to make Gibson Cattle Ranch a success.

  “Winning bid, number 302.”

  Gage looked at Colt’s number, shaking his head. Both men dominated the auction. “Looks like you won another lot.”

  Colt nodded slyly, causing Gage to furrow his brow. Ignoring Gage’s suspicions, he offered, “As soon as we get out of here, let’s grab a beer.”

  “Sounds good. I need it.” Gage grabbed his paddle and lifted it into the air on the next lot of a dozen yearlings.

  “Then we can talk about ranch hands. You’re going to need at least a half a dozen. Several ranches went under with the last floods. You might be able to scoop up a few good ones from there.”

  “Winning bid belongs to number 303.”

  Gage’s mouth formed a grin, and the cousins shook hands.

  “We’re racking them up. Let’s get going now.”

  “I can get with that idea.”

  They stood up and shimmied out of the rows of sports seating and head out to square up their winning lots. It took another hour to get them all done and signed for. They managed to have all the lots scheduled for delivery for tomorrow.

  “What the fuck, Colt?” He took the form that belonged to Colt, and it had the delivery address Gibson Ranch on it in black sharpie.