Page 14 of K-9 Guardians

Hinges protested from the metal screen installed over the front door before he had a chance to ring the doorbell. The woman folding her arms over her chest in the doorframe barely had anything left to grab on to. She wasn’t taking care of herself, that much was clear in the thinness of her skin and the oil overtaking her blond hair. She was close to six months pregnant, but from her current size, he might’ve assumed three. Four max. She’d pulled it back into a ponytail. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her without those signature waves, a couple layers of makeup or the leggings she liked to wear despite the heat.

No echoes of kids yelling or something being thrown down the hallway after Adam had told them for the thousandth time their mother was going to kill them for playing soccer in the house.

King pulled up short at the base of the walkway and just...stopped. Too heavy to get the words out. He hadn’t wanted this. Ever. He didn’t want to be the one standing here. In his mind, he always pictured it the other way around. Adam followed the book. Never took a risk unless King was the one to push him. King should’ve been the one the cartel had dragged into that refrigerator. Not his partner.

Warmth prickled at his arm where Scarlett had touched him, as though she were still touching him. Giving him the courage he needed right then. “Hi, Jen.”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Chipped fingernails dug into Jen’s arms as she ducked her chin to her chest, and King’s entire world threatened to split open.

“Yeah. Adam’s dead.” There wasn’t any more to say. Nothing he could do to take on her pain, even for just a few seconds. He was powerless in this moment, and he hated the feeling with every fiber of his being. King crossed the distance to the front door, prying his partner’s wife away from the doorframe and into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t there. I couldn’t protect him.”

Jen pressed her face into his chest. Sobs tremored through her body until all he heard was great big gasps for breath. Digging those usually manicured nails into his arms, she cried until there was nothing left.

King didn’t know how long they stood there with Scarlett watching. He didn’t care. Because he owed this to Jen. Owed Adam.

“Tell me how. How did this happen?” she asked.

“The cartel.” It was all he would give her. His partner’s family deserved to remember him as he was. Not as the corpse he’d ended up.

Life bled into Jen’s face and replaced the paleness there. She shoved at him with one hand, though she didn’t come close to knocking him off balance. “You came into my home every day, King. I welcomed you at our breakfast table. I let you near my children because you promised. You promised me every morning before you and Adam left that you would back him up.”

She shoved him again. This time with both palms, and King took a big step back as she advanced. The metal screen door snapped closed.

“Why weren’t you there, King? Why weren’t you the one...” Another wave of emotion cut her short as she brought her hands to her face. Jen doubled over as her strength failed.

“I wanted to be.” And he had. A thousand times over in the hours since he’d gotten the call about his partner. He’d wanted to be the one on the slab. To save Jen and the kids from the black well of grief. But that wasn’t how life had played out. King raised his gaze to Scarlett. She was good at fixing things, but she couldn’t fix this. No matter how much he wanted her to. “Jen, I need to know. Was Adam working on anything off the books? Did he say anything about an operation the DEA ran ten years ago or mention the name Eva Roday in the past few days?”

The sobs quieted to a low moan. Jen pushed back the tendrils of hair that escaped her crude ponytail. The fire that’d held Adam captive for years exploded in her eyes. She straightened, facing off with him as the roller coaster of pain and loss vanished.

“You son of a bitch. Really? You tell me Adam isn’t coming home, that the cartel killed him, and you’re asking me if there’s anything my husband said about a case he was working five seconds later.” She poked a finger into his chest. “You’re always chasing answers, King, but you know what the sad thing is? You’re never going to be happy with what you’ve got. Adam felt bad for you, you know. Said this job was all you had, even after you learned about Julien. That’s why he thought it was so important to stay your partner and turn down all those promotions that came his way. And he was right. You’re always going to be looking for that next lead. Letting the things that matter pass you by.”

The words stabbed through him, one at a time, until King couldn’t take his next breath.

Scarlett took a step forward, and he knew right then she would always be the one to take that first step. Into the fight, to stand up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves. It was just the kind of person she was, and he admired the hell out of that. “Hey, that’s—”

He held Scarlett off as the pull of something desperate and illogical took control. Jen was right. He’d built his entire life around this job. It’d gotten him through, given him purpose. It’d kept him focused when he suddenly found himself taking care of a kid who wouldn’t talk to him and missing the woman he’d let slip through his fingers. But it wasn’t what was driving him now. “They took my son, Jen.”

Shock stole the anger in Jen’s expression. Her finger drifted from his chest as she lost the will to keep him in his place. She blinked those big doe eyes filled with tears. “What?”

“They took Julien.” And King lost the will to keep years of classified intel, secrets and emotions to himself as the truth bled into existence. “I know I failed you. I know there’s nothing I can do to bring Adam home, and you’re more than welcome to hate me for the rest of your life, if that’s what you need to do. But there is a little boy out there in the hands of the very people who murdered your husband. And he’s scared, Jen. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him or if anyone’s coming for him. Help me get to him. Please.”

One second. Two.

Jen stared at him, and hell, King didn’t know what she saw. He just hoped it was enough. “Adam never said anything about his cases. I didn’t want to know after...” She didn’t have to finish that sentence. He knew about her family, about how she was raised by an addict who frequently beat her and her brother when her stepdad was coming down from a high. It was a life she worked hard to leave behind. “But I knew he was working on something that wasn’t for the DEA. I have a strict rule about bringing work home from the field, and he never broke that rule. But I caught him two weeks ago in the middle of the night. In his office. He was unscrewing the cover on the air return vent and putting something inside.”

Anticipation shot through him. “Did you see what it was?”

“No. And I didn’t ask.” Jen leveled that gaze at him, a hardness taking over that he’d only ever seen when Adam and the kids were in trouble. It only lasted a moment before the grief moved back in. She folded in on herself all over again, and right then, Jen suddenly seemed so much smaller than he remembered.

Adam’s life insurance would cover hers and the kids’ cost of living, most likely pay off this house, but there were some things money couldn’t take on, and King would be the one to step up. To make sure they got through this.

“But I haven’t touched anything in there since he went missing,” Jen said. “I figured...he would want it to stay as he left in when he came home. And if not, then the DEA might need to go through it first.”

She moved aside, giving him and Scarlett a clear shot to the front door. “Find the bastards who did this and get your son back, King. Make them wish they hadn’t come after your family.”

“I intend to.” King didn’t wait as he pried the metal screen door open and crossed the threshold, Scarlett and her Dobermans close behind.

The front door deposited them straight into a tidy living room with worn carpet and oversize leather couches. The dining room that’d hosted a thousand family breakfasts every morning King had showed up to collect his partner stared back at him with a grudge. There wouldn’t be any more breakfasts at that table. Not for him.

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