CHAPTER ONE

Four-star general and former Secretary of State, Colin Powell once said, “‘Pissing people off doesn’t mean you’re doing the right thing, but doing the right thing will almost inevitably piss people off.”

If ever anyone could swear to the truth of that statement, it was San Antonio PD officer, Preston Ramos. In the last year, he’d managed to piss off just about everyone in his life. As it pertained to some of them, it was when he was doing the right thing, and as it pertained to others, it was when he wasn’t. Most had yet to forgive him, and some never would.

Preston answered the last question his brother’s attorney asked of him and was excused from the witness stand. He stepped down, exhausted from two grueling days testifying in excruciating detail about the two weeks he spent with an Army Black-Ops team chasing down his brother and his brother’s partner in crime, who were dealing contraband emeralds for a corrupt Colombian official funding terrorism in America and elsewhere.

According to the prosecutor, Preston’s testimony carried significant weight and had effectively sealed his brother’s fate, assuring he’d receive a long prison sentence for his various crimes.

It had also permanently alienated Preston from the entire Ramos clan. “You’re no son of mine,” his father had told him. And Roel Ramos meant it.

The family had utterly and completely cut off Preston. No phone calls, no invitations to have a meal at his mother’s table, no beer and football with his cousins, and no Christmas dinner.

Nada. Nothing. Because he’d told the truth and had done the right thing, and put the welfare of his nation before his loyalty to his self-centered family.

Never mind all the favors his father had called in over the years, most of them involving Preston using his position as a police officer to get the dirt on his father’s business rivals. But he was done being his father’s shill. Preston had dared to defy his father and tell the truth about his brother’s crimes in a court of law, and for that he would never be forgiven.

It hurt more than he wanted to admit, especially with the holidays mere days away. And even though he wouldn’t be spending them alone, he had to admit, not being with his family at this time of year sucked.

He walked past his brother, who was sitting at the defense counsel’s table, inwardly wincing at the damage Jeremy Ramos had suffered during three days of brutal torture at the hands of the emerald cartel. Jeremy’s once handsome face was now grotesquely scarred, and even after intensive physical therapy, he would never be able to walk normally.

Preston strode up the aisle, ignoring his father’s hate-filled eyes and his mother’s cold stare, and ducked out of the courtroom into the hall of the Fort Sam Houston Justice Center where he encountered more people he’d managed to piss off royally, most of whom hadn’t forgiven him either.

Except for the one, and only one, who had.

He tilted his head in a perfunctory nod to the members of the Black-Ops team waiting to testify. They were an impressive bunch, even more so in their dress greens, attired for their appearance in court.

Paco Morales and Eagle Begay returned his nod with chilly ones of their own. Jazz Washington, who’d been hurt on a recent mission, sat in a wheelchair. He too greeted Preston without warmth.

Despite the success of the operation he’d participated in with them, the team had never forgiven him for the failure of an earlier mission that went sideways because he’d unfairly detained their team member Sabina Kaslov, causing them to be unable to rescue an attaché’s family in Mexico.

Colonel Johnson’s smile was a bit friendlier, but not much, and she asked him how he was doing, to which he answered the socially acceptable “fine.” She was no fan of his either, and he doubted he’d be invited to dinner at her house any time soon.

But his attention was drawn to the woman sitting at the end of the row, the one and only person who’d forgiven him for his shortcomings. Sergeant Sabina Kaslov: his friend, lover, and, if she said yes to his upcoming Christmas proposal, his fiancée. Sabina’s love was the only thing that had made the last few miserable months bearable, and he loved her more and more every day.

She spotted him and her face lit up in a sympathetic smile. He walked toward her and she scooted over to make room for him on the bench. He knew better than to hold her hand or kiss her in public. They needed to keep their relationship on the DL until after all the trials associated with the mission were finished. But she gave his hand a discreet squeeze as he sat down beside her. “How’d it go?” she asked quietly.

“It was tough,” he admitted. “Jeremy’s attorney did everything he could to make Jeremy look good and throw shade on Dominic.”

Her face clouded. “We knew they were going to do that. I have no doubt Dominic’s attorney will try the same tactic when his trial comes up.” She looked at him. “Was it hard, testifying against your brother?”

“Wasn’t fun. And you’re going to have to do the same thing next month.” Sabina’s brother Dominic had been Jeremy’s partner in crime.

“It’s not costing me what it did you. Mom and Dad are pissed, but they haven’t kicked me out of the family. At least not yet.”

“They won’t. They can’t be too mad. Hell, they’re planning to come over from Houston to celebrate Christmas with you.”

“Us, Preston. They want to celebrate with us.”

“They also want to check me out.” Preston’s lips twitched. “Your daddy own a gun?”

She snickered. “Not to my knowledge. But you never know.”

The courtroom door opened and the clerk called for Sabina and cautioned the rest of the witnesses not to leave.

With the only friendly face in the crowd gone, he got out his phone and pulled up his reading app, burying himself in the latest James Patterson novel until Sabina reappeared a couple of hours later.

“The judge dismissed everyone for the day,” she announced to the waiting witnesses. “The prosecutor said he needs to talk to everyone from the team who hasn’t testified yet, and wants you to meet him in Colonel Bustamante’s office in an hour.”

“That’s pretty much all of us except Sabina,” Colonel Johnson said. “See you all in a few.”

En masse, they headed for the elevator and out the door to the parking lot. Low clouds hovered, and the sky was spitting chilly rain. “It’s cold,” Sabina complained as she got into her new car.

“Where to?” he asked.

“How about that little burger joint on Rittiman Road? It’s close and I’m hungry.”

He followed her in his truck and in a few minutes they had double cheeseburgers and a mountain of fries sitting in front of them. “Mom and Dad are driving in on the twenty-second,” Sabina said. “They plan to visit Dominic in prison the next day and spend the rest of the holiday with us.” She grinned. “Our first Christmas together.”

Which took some of the sting out of not seeing his family on the twenty-fifth. “The first of a bunch of them, I hope.”

Sabina dug into her burger with gusto. That was one of the many things he loved about her. Her zest for life. She was an interesting woman, his Sabina. His soldier. His warrior.

Of Romani descent, her hair and eyes were dark, and her facial features were bolder and more arresting than classically beautiful. As a member of Bear’s Brigade, an elite, covert unit, she was stronger and more muscled than the average woman, but, at the same time, she was sensual, desirable, and absolutely mouth-watering.

He’d made love to her countless times and knew every inch of her delectable body, and the more time he spent with her, both in and out of bed, the more he wanted her by his side for the rest of his life.

Which explained the Christmas gifts he’d chosen for her. He’d found a locksmith who’d crafted a sterling silver key to his front door, since part of his proposal was going to be an invitation to move in with him, and he’d also bought a gold ring in a striking cutout design that would lay flat against her finger, but extend from knuckle to knuckle.

It didn’t look like an engagement ring, which was deliberate, since they weren’t advertising their relationship, but he hoped she’d wear it on her left hand until he could place a wedding band there.

He wasn’t too sure how he was going to go about creating a memorable proposal, but he had almost a week to figure something out that would involve her parents as part of the occasion. Maybe her mother would have some ideas.

They were finishing up the pile of fries when Sabina’s phone went off with Colonel Bustamante’s telltale ring.

“Uh-oh,” Preston said quietly.

“Maybe he’s calling about the upcoming meeting,” she said. “They may want me there after all.”

She answered and listened quietly for a couple of minutes, her face growing solemn. “Yes, sir. I understand.” She paused a minute. “I’ll pick up my go-bag and be there in twenty.” She clicked off her phone and looked across the table. “I guess you heard.”

“Mission?”

Sabina nodded. At least she didn’t have to call it a “training assignment,” the euphemism used by the team when they were being sent on a mission.

Thanks to the operation he’d gone on with them, he had a better idea than most partners what kind of work the team undertook, and the danger they faced. Sabina couldn’t ever tell him the specifics, where she was going or what she was doing, which was always somewhere out of the country, and inevitably dangerous. On the one hand he wanted to know where she was going, and other, not. He slept better at night being oblivious to the details.

“Yeah. We leave in an hour. He said we’d be gone between one and two weeks.”

He tried to hide his dismay. “There goes Christmas together.”

Sabina looked stricken. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

“Sabina, you don’t need to ‘make it up to me.’” He made air quotes with his fingers. “You have a job to do and it’s got to be damned important for them to send a team at Christmas. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine and we’ll celebrate when you get home.” He smiled weakly and gestured to the remaining fries. “Grab a couple more and get going.”

Sabina bit her lip. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Honey, I’ll be fine.”

She downed a couple of fries and headed out the door.

Preston sighed. Would he be okay was a matter of opinion.

He was going to be alone for Christmas.

It sucked like a son of a bitch, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.