Protecting Macy (Cavanaugh Security Book 1)

  Protecting Macy

  Cavanaugh Security Series

  Book One

  C.M. Steele

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Excerpt: Boomer A Steele Riders MC Novel

  Chapter 1

  Copyrighted © 2019

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

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

  Cover design: C.M. Steele

  Cover Image: Deposit Photos

  Editor: Marti Lynch

  The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. 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 are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and please purchase your own copy.

  She was running from her past.

  He was unsure of his future.

  Richer than sin, Sean Cavanaugh had it all, and yet, he chased the dream of being a homicide detective like his father had been. When merit and effort failed, he decided to change his path.

  He had one last day on the job...

  Macy Garcia lived in a trailer park with dreams of getting out. All her life she'd wanted a bit of security and peace—doing everything she could to find it—until a little bit of speeding got her into a world of trouble.

  Like many high-speed chases, this one ended with a crash. Their worlds collided, and it was an explosion neither was prepared for.

  Could Macy get away, or would Sean catch her?

  Would she even want to run?

  Would he let her try?

  This is a full-length novel filled with romance, passion, and danger.

  Chapter One

  Sean

  The sun peeked through the edge of my dark curtains, waking me up well before I’d hoped. I rolled over in the bed and lazily pulled my phone off the nightstand. My eyes fuzzy with sleep, I checked the time. “Ten o-fucking-clock,” I growled. Sliding the damn phone back on the cold surface, I flipped onto my stomach and tossed the pillow over my head.

  For what felt like an eternity, I did my best to go back to sleep, but that shit was for the birds, it seemed. Completely frustrated, I threw the pillow to the side, followed by the covers, and swung my legs off the bed.

  Sitting up with my head in my hands for a minute, I tried to get my shit together. Counting on my fingers, I had four hours of sleep. That didn’t leave me in a good mood this morning.

  When you worked the night shift, the sun wasn’t your fucking friend. I felt like a vampire, hissing and hiding from the scorching, bright sun, but this was Southern Texas; there was nowhere to run from that shit.

  “Might as well get my day started,” I mumbled. My bare feet hit the cool floor of this old house, setting off the first creak of the day. The entire mansion made sounds as I moved about. I had bought an old estate still kicking from the eighteen fifties. It needed a fuck ton of work to bring it into the twenty-first century, but something about its class, beauty, history, and craftsmanship stuck with me.

  As a deputy for the Will County Sheriff’s department, there was no way I could afford a one-point-four-million-dollar estate, but my cop salary wasn’t my only source of income. The officers didn’t know I owned this property, and I planned to keep it that way because I didn’t like to play my wealth off as a reason to get ahead.

  Connections in this field were crucial, but I preferred to get there on merit. I didn’t work for the money; I lived for the love of catching bad guys. Although, at present, I wasn’t catching many bad guys, just traffic law violators, and it had started to become tedious.

  After getting up and taking a piss, I walked to my dresser and slipped on a pair of basketball shorts. I needed a damn barrel of coffee and some food, so I made my way downstairs. Sneaking around this house would never be an option if I don’t get these floors redone.

  The inspector had declared the mansion safe for occupancy but just needed a little tender loving care and brute strength to remodel it. I didn’t have plans to change it aesthetically because it was a historical masterpiece. Thankfully, the former owners felt the same way about it. They had added modern conveniences throughout the years, but they hadn’t stripped the home of its rich story.

  I stretched my neck from one side to the other while I waited for the coffee to brew. It was the proverbial watched pot that didn’t boil. Damn, my day already promised to be extremely long and my patience short.

  We had a meeting scheduled before our shift with the sheriff and the undersheriff, and I hated the procedural meetings. This was on the new SOPs for arrest reports. They were a waste since I was the only fucker to follow them down to the letter.

  I tapped the lid of the coffee maker, hoping to make it go faster. Knowing it was pointless, I opened the fridge and found fresh bacon my mom had taken out for me. The woman was a saint. She had come by yesterday to help clean and plan out the way the house should be renovated and decorated, all the while nagging me to find a wife. The only answer I had for her was, “In good time.” That never settled her down, but how could I get married if I hadn’t been on a date in three years?

  I sent her a quick text to thank her for taking out the bacon to thaw, and then I preheated the pan and took out the carton of eggs. A six-egg omelet with mushrooms, onions, jalapenos, and cheese would hit the spot. Damn, I needed some hash browns. Looking in the fridge, I saw a note on top of a clear Tupperware container. Already seasoned. Toss on a heated pan with a thin layer of oil, eight minutes or until browned then flip to brown the other side. Love, Mom

  She was so amazing that she made it too hard to find a wife. My dad had hit the jackpot with her. No woman I had ever met had her loving and caring nature. Throughout my father’s long career, she stood strong by his side. He worked crazy hours all the time as a cop, but he was one of the few who still had a wife to come home to after all these years. Being in law enforcement ha
d a rough effect on families.

  It was another reason why I hoped to become a detective instead of just a highway patrolman before I settled down. A spouse had to be just as tough as the officer to survive in this career with their marriage and sanity intact. I’d be happy with even a third of his happiness. Granted, unlike him, I didn’t need to be a cop, but I wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps.

  I joined the police to find bad guys and work my way up to being a detective. I wanted to be the one to chase down leads and solve cases. For years, I watched my dad come and go, working hard for Houston Homicide Division. Yes, he had hard times coming home after he got a homicide case, but then my father would feel like a king when he caught the killer.

  It was that elation I aimed for. I craved the high of being the hero I had in my father. Years of watching that satisfaction in making things right had made me hunger for it. If I wasn’t getting stories from him, my eyes were glued to every true crime show from Unsolved Mysteries to The New Detective, and 48 Hours.

  I started my breakfast and poured a cup of coffee in my “Trading Places” mug. My older brother bought it for me on my eighteenth birthday after I became one of the fastest amateurs to dominate the stock market. In all honesty, it had been a fluke, but the success made it so I never had to work again. I had a much smaller portfolio out there just to keep my financial options open, but I never took to my natural talent.

  My mind had other ideas about what I wanted to do as a career. They joked around like I was some super nerd all the time. I tasted success in anything I put my mind to. Not everything, in reality, but they teased anyway.

  Once my breakfast was good to go, I polished it off in five minutes. At six three and two hundred pounds of solid muscle, I could eat. After washing my dishes and pouring myself another cup of coffee, I watched a little bit of television before hitting my makeshift gym for a bit of a workout.

  ***

  Three hours later, I headed into work. I had a bad feeling about today. Even more than just the stupid training meeting. As soon as I entered the double doors, I heard a round of cheers coming from the conference room down the hall.

  I looked at the desk sergeant with a nod toward the sound. “What’s up, Banks?”

  He huffed and looked over to the conference door, then back at me. I could feel the trepidation coming off of him. “You don’t want to know, Cavanaugh.”

  I leaned forward with my hands on the desk and asked again, “What is it, Banks?”

  He shook his head, blew out a harsh breath, and then he said, “Your partner has just been promoted.” A burning rage hit my gut in a second that was visible for anyone to see. “I told you, you didn’t want to know.”

  “Are you telling me he’s been moved to say…Forensics?” I asked, already knowing there was only one spot that he’d even consider taking and the only one that would piss me off. Everyone around here knew I’d been vying for the detective position that had opened up when Cantor retired.

  “No,” he drawled out, typing on his desk computer and avoiding eye contact with me.

  “Please don’t tell me detective…” I closed my eyes as I held my emotions in check the best that I could.

  “Sorry, bud. You and I know that he only got it because of who his father is. Nothing else,” he offered as consolation. His father was State Representative and lawyer Ellis Elroy, who had a lot of pull.

  I’d been working here for five long years, hoping for this opportunity. The position opened up two months ago, and I put in my bid. A week ago they said the budget had been slashed and that they wouldn’t be adding another detective for the time being.

  Fucking lying cunts.

  I ought to call them out on their bullshit, but I didn’t need their pity when I snapped. Instead, I walked in back to my locker and prepared for my shift. Fuck the meeting. I was giving my two weeks as soon as they stopped fucking cheering.

  I heard footsteps entering the room before Elroy spoke. “Hey, Sean, did you hear? I’m the new fucking detective.” He clapped my back with his gorilla-sized hand. I shrugged it off. He knew damn well that I wanted that spot. I had no reason to celebrate his unearned success.

  Elroy wasn’t worth the air he breathed. That son of a bitch didn’t deserve a desk; he deserved a cell. Elroy wasn’t police material and often tried to take credit for my collars. What was worse was he took pleasure in stopping female drivers for minor infractions. I asked him if he was too much of a pussy to pull over a man, but I was way off on that. It was sicker and more depraved. “No, stuffed shirt. This is the perfect way to meet chicks. They want out of a ticket, and sometimes they are very accommodating.” He smirked and nodded.

  Of course, when he saw my outrage, he claimed he was joking, clipping me playfully on the bicep. I didn’t believe that shit and checked in on any police complaints. There weren’t any, but I did bring it up to our supervisor who said Elroy was just blowing smoke up my ass. He abused his badge and gave the rest of us a bad name.

  There wasn’t a worse person on the force to give the position to. My decision to leave became crystal clear right then. I had to get out of this place before I became a sour son of a bitch or ended up in a body bag from a road stop.

  “Yeah, Banks told me what all the commotion was for. Good for you.” I slammed my locker closed and walked out of the room.

  He ran to stand in front of me, stopping my progress to the sheriff’s office. “Fuck, Sean. My bad. I forgot that you put in a bid for the job, too.”

  “Justin, they deserve you. Excuse me.” I walked past him and straight into the sheriff’s office. I should have knocked, and the fucker should have locked the door. Detective Ross was just fixing her blouse and the sheriff zipping his pants. That explained how she’d landed detective so quickly. I had no plans to fuck him up the ass, so I guessed my chances had flown out the window.

  “It’s not what you think,” she spat out in a hurry.

  “I don’t give a fuck what it is. I’m not his wife. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I have to have a word with the sheriff.” She gasped at my insult and dismissal. She could get pissy if she wanted, but I thought sleeping the way to the top had been a thing of the past. Fuck, they made up a whole movement against it.

  “You’re no fun, Sean.”

  “Well, not all of us like sucking dick for a promotion. Now, I’m not going to ask again. Please give us a fucking minute. You can go get yourself cleaned up in the meantime.” I couldn’t give two whole Texas-sized fucks about how rude I was at the moment. Even my momma couldn’t be pissed about treating this lady like shit. She left in a huff, slamming the door behind her.

  “Cavanaugh, this will stay between us, right?” he asked with a hint of a warning before looking into his mirror to fix his tie. He had a suit on today because he had a dinner to go to with his wife. I wasn’t the kind for gossip, but at least his wife paid him back in spades. His youngest kid wasn’t his, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “Like I told her. I’m not your wife, so I don’t give a shit what you do. I came in here to give you my two weeks,” I informed the useless, philandering prick.

  He whipped his head around faster than I’d ever seen anyone do. That shit right there was comical. I had to actually bite back a laugh. “What? You want to quit?” He finished that with so much damn indignation that I couldn’t fucking believe the nerve he had.

  There went my humor, and my temper was back. “What the fuck did you think—I’d stick around and take it up the ass while you promote every piece of shit around me? No, it’s not happening. I’m out. You can take my two weeks, or I can go now.”

  “Calm down, Cavanaugh. Think about it. What kind of job do you think you’ll get if you rush out of here?” He didn’t know shit about me. If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t have the arrests and ticket numbers to make this county a success, but just because they needed me didn’t mean I needed them, and I guessed they found it hard to believe.

  “I’m not conce
rned with that, and you know damn well that’s not your true concern either,” I challenged, seeing if he dared to lie to my face again.

  “Take a seat and think about it. You’re our best patrolman. We can’t lose you,” he exclaimed, acting if that was supposed to mean something to me.

  I’d take the seat and throw it at his head, but I was a better man. “Too bad. You just did. The answer? Two weeks or now?”

  “Two weeks, please.” He finally relented.

  “Good. Is Elroy riding around with me?” I asked, hoping it was a big “hell, no,” but I couldn’t get that lucky, could I?

  “No, he’s going to be heading to classes for two weeks in Houston.” I did a silent happy dance, but only gave the boss a stone-faced nod and then walked out. There was nothing else to say, as far as I was concerned.

  Chapter Two

  Macy

  I tried to sneak into the back of the diner without being noticed, but my boss, Pete, stood right at the back door. “You’re late again, sugar.”

  I was a whole twenty-seven minutes late to my job at a truck-stop diner thanks to my fucked-up family life. Not that I’d tell him that. Pete didn’t need to know anything personal about any of his employees. He was about as caring as a crocodile and as volatile as one as well. I stayed out of his wrath most days, but my tardiness had become a frequent occurrence lately, and he was getting fed up with me. “I’m sorry. It’s just I can’t get ready quick enough.”

  “Don’t be sorry, doll. Be here on time. You’re the hottest thing on the menu,” Pete remarked, repeating what he always said with a gold-toothed grin. He knew that the men here liked to look at my young ass because I wasn’t strung out. I knew it too, which made getting out of here a big priority. I worried that one day someone would take my refusals as an insult and take what they wanted.

  With long-haul truckers, sometimes girls came up missing and in this area, it had happened more than once. Most of them haven’t been found, but the ones that were had been beaten, raped, and strangled, left on the side of the road. It was fucked up and scary, but a girl in my situation didn’t really have any other options. At least not yet.