Cobra (Blue Angel Security Book 1), page 1
CONTENTS
Content Warning
Author’s Note
1. Phoebe
2. Jaycee
3. Cobra
4. Jaycee
5. Cobra
6. Jaycee
7. Cobra
8. Cobra
9. Jaycee
10. Jaycee
11. Jaycee
12. Cobra
13. Jaycee
14. Jaycee
15. Cobra
16. Cobra
17. Jaycee
18. Jaycee
19. Jaycee
20. Dalton
21. Cobra
22. Jaycee
23. Cobra
24. Jaycee
25. Cobra
26. Jaycee
27. Cobra
28. Jaycee
29. Cobra
30. Jaycee
31. Cobra
32. Cobra
33. Cobra
34. Jaycee
35. Cobra
36. Cobra
37. Dalton
38. Cobra
39. Jaycee
40. Cobra
41. Jaycee
42. Cobra
43. Jaycee
44. Liam
45. Cobra
46. Jaycee
47. Cobra
48. Liam
49. Jaycee
50. Cobra
51. Cobra
Epilogue
Warning
About Nikki
Also by Nikki
Acknowledgments
Copyright © 2022 by Nikki Leigh.
Edited and Proofread by: Belle Ames Designs
Cover Design: Belle Ames Designs
Photographer: JW Photography Cover Photos
Cover Model: Ricco B
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of this author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The following story contain mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers. For specific information please email directly at, authornikkileigh@gmail.com
CONTENT WARNING
Story does contain triggers.
While we all enjoy a really good story, some don’t like all the surprises, if this is you sneak to the end of the story for a full list of trigger or content warnings. And for those readers who love experiencing the story as it comes, happy reading!
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Blue Angel Security and The Love Series are a crossover series. Plots and characters may intersect.
Beautiful creatures cannot be confined,
Her wings will grow, she’ll find the sky.
~Christy Ann Martine~
1
PHOEBE
“I know, Dyani. I can’t believe I finally found her one. Mom is going to flip her ever loving lid. She has been searching high and low for this damn sweater,” I squeal into my Bluetooth.
“Yeah, well, if Bryant hadn’t spilled red wine all over the sleeve at Christmas last year, this wouldn’t have happened. I still don’t get why he didn’t replace it. It wasn’t your responsibility. He’s such a jerk.”
“We both know that wasn’t ever going to happen. He may be my brother, but you know as well as I do how different we are. I see family and friendships as treasures. Like ours, you’re my best friend in the world. Bryant however, sees them either as obstacles to overcome, or steppingstones to his next promotion up the corporate ladder. I can’t believe that we actually have the same parents.”
“Bryant should be the one married to your husband. He’s just as bad,” Dyani grumbles. That girl has hated Dalton since the day I met him. Actually, as far as that goes, she has never liked his twin brother, Damon, much either. When I married Dalton, five years ago, it was all I could do to get her to agree to be my bridesmaid. Not to be the person standing up objecting to our union. That agreement was hard fought and there may or may have been some bribery in the form of a shopping trip at Dalton’s expense offered in exchange for her silence.
“Okay, enough bashing on Bryant and Dalton. Tonight is going to be so much fun. It’s been forever since Mom and I had a quiet night together. Dad has promised to stay in his office or upstairs in their bedroom so we could have the perfect girls’ night in, and Dalt is working late.”
“Of course he is. He does that a lot lately. Are you sure he’s not—”
“Dyani, let’s not do this tonight. I’ve told you a hundred times, I trust him. He loves me. He wouldn’t do that to us,” I say, hearing my phone alert me that I’ve got less than fifteen percent battery left. I smile remembering how many times Dalton has told me I need to be more attentive to my battery’s life. My phone is forever almost dead.
“Fine, I’ll drop it for now. Enjoy your night with your mom, although I have a funny feeling your dad is going to regret letting you two have your girls’ night at their house. You two are far from quiet when you get together. I’ll chat with you in the morning. You owe me all the juicy details. We both know your mom can’t hold her liquor. That’s when all the embarrassing stories come out!”
“You know it.” We both giggle like the teenage girls we were years ago as we disconnect the call.
I pull into the quiet, upscale neighborhood in Torrance, California, excited for the night ahead. As I turn into my parents’ driveway, I notice a strange car sitting a few houses down. It wouldn’t usually draw my attention but these neighbors have lived there almost as long as my parents, and they rarely have company over. It was enough to have me taking a second look, but since the car wasn’t actually in their driveway, I decided to let it go. Besides, there was a vague outline of someone sitting behind the wheel appearing to be on their phone. They were probably looking for the right house, it happens a lot out here. I take one last look at the car before deciding I’ve wasted enough time over something that’s not any of my concern, and get out of my car, locking it as I head in.
As I walk up the driveway my mind wanders to my conversation with Dyani. Despite what she believed, Dalton really was a wonderful man. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me or my family. When we had our home built three years ago, he insisted we stay close to my parents, while still fulfilling his dream of living in an exclusive community. He found one in Beverly Hills, only about forty five minutes from my parents. He really is a dream come true. I’m thankful I met my prince charming at only sixteen. Dyani might have issues trusting him, but I knew him better. He was perfect.
I frown approaching my parents front door as I notice all of the living room lights are off. It’s a rarity in their home. More so because Mom always made sure the lights were on when she knew I was coming over. Not sure what to expect, I open the front door and notice everything is dark and I reach for the light switch. My unease grows as I reach for the light switch and nothing happens, even as I flick it back and forth. With nothing happening, I reach into my purse for my phone. At least I have a flashlight available on it. “Mom, it’s Phoebe. Where are you?” I ask while scanning the room.
Cautiously, I walk through the house, still calling out for her, scared shitless. Mom has never been the kind of person to jump out and surprise people. Even as a child she hated it. I remember the stories she used to tell us when Bryant tried it on me. So, the house being bathed in total darkness? This isn’t good. This is way out of her character. As I walk into the kitchen, I see small tracks of blood on the white tile floor that Mom cherishes so much. Terror rushes through me as I nervously walk down the hallway, following the blood trail. As I get closer to my father’s office, the trail of blood droplets turn into faded shoe prints that deepen in color as I approach. My heart hammers in my chest, not entirely sure what I’m trailing after.
Sweat drips from my forehead as I round the corner to Dad’s most treasured sanctuary. I take a deep breath, the sight of the blood leading away from the door causing me to pause. Whatever is on the other side, won’t be good, not with this much blood. But, if my parents need help, I can’t leave them. Hesitantly, I raise my hand, the cool metal of the doorknob forming a queazy knot in my stomach. I ease it open, making me wonder for not the first time tonight, if I even want to see what’s on the other side. I swallow hard and push it open, not surprised when his office is as dark as the rest of the house. My flashlight didn’t do much to illuminate the space, so I decided to try the light switch, just in case.
To my surprise, it actually works, and the room fills with bright light. Instantly, I regret my action. Dad’s once pristine office now resembles a scene straight out of his favorite murder show. I can’t tear my eyes away from the scene as I struggle to comprehend what’s in front of me. Blood droplets slash across the wall behind his desk. Immediately, I notice the bloody shoe prints only run in one direction. They start from behind his desk and trail off as whoever was here, exits his office door, the one I just entered. Standing at the threshold of indecision, I know inexplicably that nothing good is hiding in here. My hands tremble with fear while my throat constricts as I raise my cell to call 911. Seconds later the call drops, quickly I redial hoping against all odds my call will make it outside of my parents’ concrete walls. So much for your great idea about building a home entirely constructed of concrete Dad. The moment you need help I can’t reach a single soul.
With wet, shimmering eyes, I observe three half-filled whiskey glasses sitting on Dad’s desk. For reasons I don’t quite understand, I snap a picture of them before walking to Dad’s desk to use his landline. Suddenly my heart sinks when I realize this line is dead too. With no choices left I slowly walk around his desk verifying what I already suspect. Feeling the smooth planes of Dad’s antique desk, I peek around the corner and see my father’s motionless body lying on the floor in a pool of blood.
I rush to his side, dropping to my knees. Any and all thoughts as to what condition I’ll look like after kneeling in my father’s blood has no bearing on me.“Dad!! Wake up, please! You can’t leave us,” I plead with him as my tears fall. “Mom needs you. Please Dad, open your eyes, move a finger, anything. Just don’t leave us. Mom, me, and even Bryant as much as he says he doesn’t need you, we do. You’re the rock to our family Dad.”
With his hand in mine, my tears finally subside enough for me to realize his hand is already cold and blue. Looking up I scan his body, because as much as I hate to admit it, my father is already gone. Blood has run down his face and matted his usually well-groomed black hair. I know I should go get help, but thanks to those damn concrete walls getting help is going to a gamble. I need to find someone, but I can’t tear myself away from him. He’s my everything. His eyes are still open, but they’ve lost their bright, vibrant hue. Instead, they’re already glazed over and turning slightly white. My stomach clenches as I continue to look him over and realize how he died. I gently kiss Dad’s cheek as my tears free fall down my face. God, I feel like I’m living a real life crime show tonight. I wipe at my cheeks, knowing I can’t stay here forever. I need to find my mom, even if I can’t do anything to help her, I need to know. I push to my feet, my gaze darting all over, still trying to understand why. As I make my way to the stairs, my gut tells me this night has only begun.
Call it a woman’s intuition, a premonition, or whatever, but I know in my heart of hearts I will find her just like my dad. I know my mother. With all the commotion going on in the house, especially my wails of sorrow as I found my father, she would’ve come running. Somewhere in this house is my mother’s lifeless body, too. My father was her whole world. I lost count over the years as to how many times Mom told us as much as she loved being a mother, she was created to be a wife. My father’s wife. They had a love story that had spanned three decades already, and if the monster who attacked my father hadn’t struck, they’d still be going strong. I have no clue how my mom would even begin to cope with something like this.
As I climb up the last step, I stare down the hall. Nervously, I tiptoe near their door as if I’m expecting the boogie man to jump out at me. In a way, I guess I am. I know with everything in me, this is the moment the world as I know will end. After tonight, I’ll never feel my mother’s arms around me, we’ll never spend the day at our favorite spa again getting spoiled, and we’ll never have another girls’ night in. Still clutching my phone tightly in my hand, I slowly turn the door knob. It’s a miracle that it hasn’t shattered yet from the force of my grip. I flip on the light switch wondering if this light will be like Dad’s office and work or is this another dark room. Immediately, a light fills their room just as I release a horrifying gasp seeing my mother.
Mom is lying face down on her baby pink quilt that is completely saturated in her blood. Chunks of her long, beautiful, blond hair are scattered all around her. What wasn’t pulled from her head is streaked heavily with blood. Whoever did this showed her no mercy. Her legs and arms have been bound with tape. Angrily, I swipe at my tears. Now isn’t the time to break down like a scared little girl, my parents need me. I will find them the justice they deserve. If it’s the last thing I do, I will find the cowards responsible for destroying my family, which means it’s time for me to say goodbye. I need to get help and the only way that’s happening is if I can get a signal out of here. A newfound determination rushes through me as I walk over to the closet retrieving a blanket to cover my mom. As I stand over her, I take one last fortifying breath and cover her, noticing a bullet wound to the back of her head. Blind rage pours out of me, how could anyone be this cruel? The fucking irony of everything. My mom who wouldn’t even allow my father to kill a spider in her home is shot dead behind the head. Fucking bastards. Yes, I’ve decided even without the authorities telling me, this double murder was not carried out by one person. Whoever murdered my parents had help.
“I promise Mom, we will make this right. They will pay,” I whisper, kissing her cheek just as I did with Dad downstairs. Silently, I bow my head and pray if there’s really a higher power up there, my parents’ executioners will be found quickly. But my hope and faith are already diminishing rapidly; after all, who could blame me? Someone broke into my parents’ home and slaughtered them, and for what? I ask while my eyes burn from all the tears I’ve cried tonight. With shaky hands, I turn my phone over, attempting once again to get help.
I stand with my back to their bedroom door gathering what minute strength I have left and press my phone’s icon. Before I’ve pressed a single digit, my heart pounds faster than I’ve ever felt. I can barely hear myself over it’s thunderous beats, let alone focus. It’s in this moment my new reality slams home. I’ll never hear my mom say to me, I love you.
A new wave of tears cascades down my face as I try to control them. I need to push them away at least long enough to actually get through to someone. Suddenly, I feel a warm breath brush against my ear, startled I freeze. Cold chills instantly erupt on my arms and cause me to shiver in fear. “Who are you calling, Feebs?” My fear slowly subsides as I breathe in the one man’s cologne who I know will never hurt me, Dalton, my husband. Still unable to move he walks around me, bringing us face to face.
One look at his peaceful green eyes allows me the breath I need to finally crumble in his arms. “Mom and Dad… they’re both,” I attempt to string my words together as he brushes my hair with his fingers. Gently he moves his hands to rest on my hips giving me the comfort I need in order to get my words out. “We need to call 911. That’s who I was trying to call when you found me in here.”
“That won’t be necessary, Feebs.” I nod, thankful he’s already called the authorities.
God, what would I do without this man? He’s always taking care of me. Even now when my whole world is falling apart, I know Dalton will be there to pick up the pieces.
Just as quickly as my relief is found, it’s replaced with an incredible sense of loss and pain. “We have to call Bryant. How am I ever going to tell my brother what happened here tonight? Who would do this to our parents?” I continue to sobbing.
“No need, Feebs. Bryant is already downstairs with your dad.”
Instantly, my tears dry up. The uneasy knot I felt moments ago is back. Something is wrong, horribly wrong. “What? Why? I need to see him.” I release my arms, backing out of his embrace. Suddenly, he grabs both my wrists holding me firmly in place. Confused, I look up at him, noticing for the first time his eyes that have always brought me so much peace have now been replaced by cold, uncaring orbs.
