Stryker (Books 1 & 2) (Atrox Security)
Contents
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Stryker
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
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
Dedication
Author Notes
Author Notes
Published by © J.C. Cliff LLC, 2017
Stryker - Atrox Security
Copyright © 2017 by J.C. Cliff
All rights reserved
JCCLIFF.COM
Edited by:
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Stryker
Atrox Security Series
By J.C. Cliff
(Book 1)
It's not just another mission. This time there's no way out.
A spin off from The Blyss Trilogy.
It's not just another undercover mission. This time there's no way out.
Do you believe in love?
Do you believe in forgiveness?
Do you believe in second chances?
Well, I didn’t.
I thought I believed in love. I thought she was The One, but it all turned to shit in one night full of misunderstandings and regret.
I had secrets of my own, but what she saw wasn’t real. What I said to push her away were lies. What was her excuse? There were no second chances, not after I discovered she sold out for money. Did I ever mean anything to her?
What happens when the woman I once loved suddenly becomes part of the job? Assigned to new undercover mission, I realize too late she’s the subject in question, and I have to get close to her… real close. I tried to back out of the mission, but I can’t, there’s no way out.
I’m a charmer, a master of imparting lies and deceit, and this mission will be no different - or so I tell myself. It’s game time, and being forced to confront our past, I imagine there will be no winners when it’s all said and done.
What starts out as another undercover mission, quickly becomes a complex, twisted, and mind-bending adventure.
This story can be read without prior knowledge of "The Blyss Trilogy or Quinn", however some parts that are referenced will be more enjoyable if you are already familiar with J.C. Cliff's bestselling Blyss Triology.
Erotic steamy scenes, suspense, obsession, betrayal, lies, all interspersed with humor are woven together to bring you a one of a kind storyline that ends in an HEA.
Warning: **Mature Audiences Only** This book is intended for adults of mature audiences only (18+).
CHAPTER 1
~ Stryker ~
“This is so messed up,” I growl with frustration at the same time I run my fingers through my hair. I begin to pace the floor in Quinn’s reconnaissance room. To say I’m bouncing off the walls is an understatement. I’ve been trying to keep my cool for the past hour, ever since I found out the news.
“Take a breather before you have an angina attack,” Quinn tells me almost nonchalantly, as if what I’m about to go through isn’t a big deal.
I stop pacing and turn with a scowl on my face as I point an accusing finger at him. “You’re the one who signed on for this gig, not me.” My voice holds a mixture of panic and anger, which is totally unlike me. I’m always the deep thinker, the physiological guru of the team, but we are talking about me doing something so far out of my element I can’t even digest it, let alone categorize it.
“Stryke, it was decided when we started this business I would be the one to pick and choose the best jobs for us,” Quinn reminds me, piercing me with those stark, icy blue eyes of his. “Until you guys tell me you want me to start taking on contracts that a five-year-old could handle, then this is what we’ve been dealt.”
I look to the ceiling and rub my hand over my face, trying to think of a way out of this mess, but come up empty. “Can’t we just postpone, maybe shoot for another week… anything?” I plead. Quinn’s stern and silent look tells me I’m arguing in vain.
“Look, I know this was last minute, but this job came to me at the last minute with serious urgency. We don’t have that kind of time to push this off, not even a day. This case is high priority even though it had laid dormant for almost a year. The FBI spent several years on it before they finally hit a brick wall. With each new lead they found, they wound up hitting nothing but dead ends, one after another. I do know they were putting heat on the situation and were getting somewhere, but then things just came to a screeching halt.”
Travis tries to be the voice of reason as well, backing Quinn’s decision for us to move forward. “The FBI never really closed the case, Stryker. Now that they have a new lead, they don’t have any free men to spare. That’s why they contacted us. They need someone working this investigation yesterday. Quinn’s back was to the wall, and he had to ma
ke a hard and fast decision on everyone’s behalf.” Travis takes a deep breath then adds, “Plus, I think it’s a damn good case. We really haven’t been challenged since Project Blyss.”
My lungs begin to constrict; the four walls of Quinn’s headquarters are closing in on me. I rub at the tightness in my chest. I hate this feeling, this level of anxiety rolling through me. I glance at my watch, even though I already know it’s too early for a shot of liquor.
I’m on board with Quinn taking this contract; it’s the way we have to establish initial contact with our target that has me going nuts. It’s absurd, asinine even—at least it is to me. Of course, I didn’t think it was a problem when we decided to make this Hunter’s task. It wasn’t until Hunter got hurt and the job became mine that I found a flaw in Quinn’s genius plan.
“Just what the hell, guys?” I throw my arms in the air out of frustration. I’m trapped in a mission that goes down in less than eight hours, and I can’t get out of it. Travis is sitting, watching me with this devious smirk on his face as he swivels back and forth in his office chair like a damned toddler on a sugar high. He’s clearly enjoying my predicament.
With a stiff jerk of my chin in his direction, I throw him under the bus. “Why can’t Travis do it? Seducing women and training them to like kinky sex is his forte, after all.” And I say this meaning every word, because the man has charisma coming out the ass. Plus, he has actual experience when it comes to this shit. “Hell, he wouldn’t even need to go in for training. In fact, I bet he could teach their staff a thing or two.”
“Whoa, now, wait a minute,” Travis interjects with a sharp tone, his jovial nature instantly replaced with indignation. “I did my time. Oh hell, did I ever do my time. I gave up all my freedoms and spare time for three damn years straight while dodging danger twenty-four-seven on Project Blyss. I had no life.” Even though Travis says these things, he wouldn’t hesitate to do that type of undercover work again. He needed to work that case as hard as he did. He had demons to face, and there’s no doubt he found redemption in it. While he was at it, he found a second chance at love too, and he’d be the first to admit it.
Travis takes a slow sip of water then swallows, eyeing me the entire time while wearing an arrogant grin. His look is daring me to say something else. Asshole. He’s having way too much fun at my expense. He’s finding some sort of sick delight in my discomfort. “Besides,” Travis says, “I can’t take your place, because I like my balls right where they are, thank you very much.” Travis grabs his junk for emphasis, then adds, “Jules wouldn’t hesitate to castrate me. I’d like to try for a Travis Junior at some point, you know.”
I shift my eyes toward Quinn and raise a brow, silently challenging him to take one for the team, and he knows it. Both his hands fly upward as if I have him at gunpoint. His voice bordering on outrage, he asks, “Are you fucking crazy, Stryker? I’ve been taken by the balls too, man. No way in hell would Lexi give me the green light.” Quinn’s entire body shivers as if he imagined what it would feel like to have his balls ripped off by his woman. “Just thinking about what Lexi would do to me… hell, I fear her more than I do her father.”
Now that’s saying something, especially since Lexi’s father is a mafia don. Quinn lifts his chin toward Hunter. “We all know it was Hunter’s turn to take on the dirty work, and God knows he could use the experience, but he’s out of commission,” he says, suppressing a smirk. “Just look at the poor guy. You can even see the disappointment written all over his face, because we’re all aware he needs all the help he can get when it comes to getting some pussy.”
“Fuck you, man,” Hunter counters with a wide grin. All of us start chuckling, knowing Hunter needs zero help when he wants to get laid. The man is a walking centerfold ad, and I have yet to see anyone turn him down.
“I thought you liked the kinky shit,” Travis pipes in, taunting me. I bite my lower lip for a second and hold it captive. I know if the roles were reversed, I’d be ribbing him just the same. All of us have known each other for decades, so it’s all good.
“Yeah, not a problem if I’ve got a few beers in me for liquid courage,” I tell Travis, “and if it’s a woman of my choosing. Then there’s this broad-ass definition,” I pause, spreading my arms out wide, “of what exactly defines kinky shit. Fuck a girl up against the wall? Not a problem, I’m your guy. Play with a blindfold or use some rope? Hell, I’d even throw in a few sexy spankings. Again, I’m down with that. But when you start pulling out butt plugs and shit…” My entire body shivers in disgust. “Just—no—fuckin’—way, dude.” Who the hell knows what I’m going to be up against tonight? I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying not to think of the visuals, and the different types of things people wind up sticking in their tight, puckered asshole.
“You’re visualizing shit, aren’t you?” Hunter asks, knowing my personality all too well.
“Yeah, I am,” I say, looking up at him. “I don’t think I ever told you all this, because it was something I wanted erased from my memory bank, but I’ll never forget this one instance when I did a rotation in the ER decades ago. I had a soldier come in one night, doubled over in pain. I fuckin’ fell over once I found out why he was hurting. He had shoved a goddamn Nerf football up his ass and couldn’t get it out.” I look at Quinn’s expression and almost burst out laughing. His eyes are bugged out and his mouth agape. “I’m not shitting you.” I shake my head at the memory. “We couldn’t get it out either. It was sucked all the way up into his ass.”
“What the fuck are people thinking when they do that shit?” Quinn bellows out in disbelief. “I’ll never be able to look at Nerf Balls the same ever again,” he adds.
“Yeah, ruined some good childhood memories I had too.” I close my eyes, willing the memory to self-destruct, but it doesn’t; it never has. The vivid images still haunt me to this day. “Reminds me of that song by Eddie Murphy, something about, Put the Boogie in Your Butt.”
“Never heard of that one,” Hunter says perplexed.
“YouTube it,” I encourage, because it’s absolutely hilarious. “The asshole is a one-way exit for shit to come out, not go in.”
“Look,” Quinn interjects, still trying to reason with me while supremely failing to suppress his light laughter, “there’s no backing out on this one. I’m sorry, but everything’s already been set up.”
“That was before Hunter—”
“We’ve already made the arrangements,” Quinn says, cutting me off. He’s lost all traces of humor in the blink of an eye, and has turned all business again. He holds his hand up to stop me from further protesting. “The ball is already rolling, and we all agreed this was the best way for us to integrate ourselves into the investigation without raising any suspicions. Because of the subject’s preferences and tastes, tonight’s setting has provided us with the perfect set-up. Scoring her will be a shoe-in, I swear it. Otherwise, I’d never have suggested it in the first place. She’s obsessed with this place, and we’d be stupid not to be there.” Quinn flicks his eyes between me and Hunter. “She wouldn’t be able to resist either one of you guys, and I can pretty much guarantee you’ll be walking away with her number by the end of the night.”
“With my luck, she’d probably have a wedding date figured out by the end of next week,” I grumble.
“You’re probably right, Stryker, and for that, I’m sorry. I don’t know why you always seem to get the weird ones, but you do. Regardless, the show must go on. The Local Edge is expecting one of us to be downtown by four today to start an impromptu training session, and it’s going to be you,” Quinn states with finality, piercing me with a hard stare. My gut sinks to the floor, and I know I’m going to have to man up.
I cross my arms and raise a brow at Hunter, still highly irritated with him. “You are a sorry sack of shit, man.” Hunter’s shoulders start to shake with silent laughter, which pisses me off even more and he knows it.
“Hey, it’s not my fault I pulled a groin muscle,” he half
chuckles, half winces in pain. The fucker, he was lifting weights in Quinn’s workout room only a few hours ago, and he can’t walk two steps without doubling over in pain. He added extra weight to his reps, doing too much too fast after I told him not to, and now I’m paying the price for his stupidity.
I watch him as he holds a bag of frozen peas on said area. I feel bad for him, yet at the same time I’m pissed off about his hardheadedness. “I can barely walk as it is right now,” Hunter whines. “You know damn well I was on board for being the one to take on this task. Hell, I was the one who volunteered.”
I grumble under my breath over the absurdity of it all. Just fuck my life. Frustrated, I run my fingers through my hair and let out a resigned and painful groan. “This is exactly why I can’t get into any serious relationships. I never know when you guys are going to pull me back into these kinds of fucked up games while working undercover.”
Quinn twists around in his chair, his back facing me as he clicks on his keyboard a few times. He talks over his shoulder at me. “Look, Stryker,” he says, pointing to the computer monitor, “take a second and look at her. She really is kind of hot.” He’s trying to convince me this job won’t be as bad as I’m making it out to be, but that’s because he’s not the one with his man-parts on the line.
Reluctantly, I look up at the screen. Quinn’s right; she’s pretty easy on the eyes, but getting involved with her is still something I don’t want to do. I always seem to attract unstable women, either the ones with hidden mental disorders, or the pathological liars. I’m a damn magnet for each and every one of them.