Janie Crouch - Cease Fire

Whether they’d wanted to or not.

Not that Roman wasn’t ever going into politics. He just wanted to do it on his own terms, not on his mother’s. He wanted to make a difference in the system, and his time at Omega Sector continued to help him understand where the system worked and where it needed fixing.

Roman rubbed a hand over his face and sat down at a table that had been vacated by people out on the dance floor, still glancing around the shadows, looking for danger. A couple months ago he would’ve been out on the floor with them. Could’ve kept a watchful eye out while having fun at the same time. He was known as the jokester on the SWAT team. The one with a witty comeback and always ready for a good time, taking nothing too seriously.

Or had been.

He wasn’t trying to go back to that persona. He’d been changed at some very basic level by his near-death experience and would never be that same person again.

And although he had no desire to talk politics tonight at his friend’s wedding, he could see that perhaps he might be moving in that direction sooner rather than later. Not because he was afraid of death or wanted to get out of the SWAT team, but because now more than ever he realized how short life really was.

Maybe it was just time for him to grow up. Maybe all these changes would’ve come about regardless. All Roman knew was that he couldn’t go back to who he’d been before he’d almost died. Didn’t want to go back to who he was formerly.

But before he could move forward with his life, they were going to have to catch Damien Freihof. Although Roman had to make peace that it wasn’t going to happen tonight.

Keira had taken herself back off the dance floor and was standing over in the shadows at the side of the room. Roman stood. He was finished staying away from her.

Finished letting Damien Freihof determine every decision he made.

At least for now.

Chapter Two

“How do I know the bride? Oh, we used to be strippers together back in the day.”

Keira hadn’t actually used that statement as the answer to the question she’d been asked a few times, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth.

But Andrea, the bride and one of Keira’s closest friends, hadn’t disclosed her previous line of work, so Keira wouldn’t, either.

Although Keira didn’t care who knew she was once an exotic dancer. She wasn’t ashamed of it. She had clawed her way out of a hell most people would never even conceive, and she wouldn’t apologize for how she’d survived. Dancing had been part of that.

But if the bride wanted to keep her past private, that was certainly her prerogative. Keira wouldn’t reveal the information, either.

“Hey there, beautiful. You doing okay?”

The bride had somehow sneaked up on Keira right as she’d been thinking about her. Their arms wrapped around each other.

“Yes! What are you doing over here with me? Brandon’s going to be looking for you.”

Andrea smiled, her straight blond hair in stark contrast to Keira’s riotous dark curls. “He’s watching me, I can feel it. I’m not sure where he is exactly, but I can guarantee he knows where I am.”

Keira laughed. “If he wasn’t so crazy in love with you, that would be sort of stalkerish. But I know what you mean.”

Andrea’s smile, as always, was soft and sweet. She was never going to be someone who wanted to draw attention to herself if she had other options. That had been true even back in their dancing days. Keira still didn’t know how Andrea had managed to survive it.

Except that Andrea was a survivor.

Ultimately, that had drawn Keira and Andrea together, the two of them so opposite in personality, looks and temperament. Survivor had recognized survivor.

“I love you, Andrea.” Keira brought her friend in for another hug. “And I’m so excited for you here on your beautiful day, and for the stalker standing over there with some friends, looking at you with adoration in his eyes.”

“Do you really think this turned out okay?” Doubt tinged Andrea’s voice. “This wedding was so much bigger than I wanted. This reception so elaborate. It’s just that Brandon’s family is involved with politics and business. They wanted to do the whole big thing.”

“It’s perfect. The wedding was beautiful, everyone is having a good time at the reception and you’re handling it all like a champ.”

Andrea didn’t have her own family—her parents had died when she was young, and the people who’d raised her afterwards had made her home life so bad that she’d run away as a teen rather than stay there—but Keira had to admit the Hans had embraced her with such open arms that she could hardly claim no family anymore. They loved their son and loved their new daughter-in-law.

Proof was in Brandon’s sisters making their way over to Andrea a few minutes later and pulling her out on the dance floor.

As they went, a man—the very epitome of tall, dark and handsome—caught Keira’s attention from across the room, over near the terrace doors. He was studying her in a way that made her insides begin a slow burn. Keira knew he was an Omega agent, had seen him around at a couple events in the last few months, but didn’t know his name. Had been afraid to ask in case she couldn’t stop herself from pouncing on him.

Her attention was yanked back by Andrea. “Come join us!” the bride said over her shoulder, a new sister attached to each arm as they crossed to the dance floor.

“In a few.” Keira laughed and waved. She looked over again, but tall, dark and handsome seemed to have moved back into the shadows.

She shrugged, surprised by how disappointed she was to lose that moment with him. She didn’t tend to be so romantic as allowing herself to feel heat from just a glance.

Didn’t tend to be romantic at all.

But Keira didn’t head to the dance floor. Most people had brought a date to dance with. Keira deliberately had not because, as one of the bridesmaids, she wanted to be able to concentrate on Andrea and anything she needed. But mostly because she just didn’t date much.

Keira looked around at the large crowd. There seemed to be two types of people populating the wedding. Omega Sector agents, all half mingling, half watching the door for any sign of that maniac who had almost killed both Andrea and Brandon last year. They were intelligent, they were armed and they were ready.

And they weren’t even the most dangerous people in the room. That was the other part of the crowd.

The wealthy. The privileged. The elite.

Those people scared Keira much more than someone with a gun did.

They shook hands and slapped backs, then stuck proverbial knives in those very same backs as soon as it served their best interests. The room was filled with men and women who aspired to be congressmen, governors, maybe even more. Those who desired to start, run and sell multimillion dollar corporations.

And they had the power—or the family with power—to back up those goals.

She knew these types of people, knew what they could do to someone. Had been married to a member of a family like the ones here. One who had powerful political aspirations.

Six years ago, she had fled this state a broken person. Not much more than a child. She had bought her freedom from the upper echelon with her own blood, always afraid the man who’d broken her would wield his wealth and power to find her again.

His family wasn’t here tonight; Keira had made sure that would be the case long before this day came. She’d asked Brandon, not Andrea, if the Cunningham family of Denver would be attending the wedding. Brandon hadn’t thought so and had double-checked, since his parents—who were paying for the wedding—were inviting some business and political associates he didn’t know well. He was soon able to assure her there would be no Cunninghams in attendance.