Read Online Bad Cat Baby Blues (Shifter Squad Six 3) by Anya Nowlan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anya Nowlan
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Romance, Action & Adventure, Paranormal, Adult, Military, supernatural, Erotic, shifters, Interracial, Bachelor, menage, BBW, Shifter, Violence, Mate, Protection, Forever Love, Single Woman, Navy SEALs, Forbidden Pregnancy, Shifter Squad Six, Werejaguar
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watching him as long as he was still on the street, before they would return to the bar and do their part in calming things down. There had been a lot of that lately—people around Dutch attempting to somehow mitigate his hurricane-like irritation. It hardly worked.
The only thing keeping him of sound mind and body at this point were missions. It was like the only time he could really concentrate anymore was when he had his rifle in his hands and he was cooped up in a nest, waiting for someone to royally fuck up. The fact that his performance hadn’t suffered was probably one of the only reasons that Connor was still tolerating this bullshit from him.
Not like he was any better back when things went to shit with Cassie, Dutch thought darkly.
But that thought had to be put out of his head real fast. If it wasn’t, then he’d be admitting that there was something deeper to his behavior at the moment. Something comparable to, say, the love one might have for his mate. And that was ludicrous, right?
You don’t even know her. It was one night. Get the fuck over her, Dutch chanted to himself, the same words that he’d told himself over and over and fucking over again.
They didn’t seem to stick very well, though.
He walked down the street at a fast pace, not caring where he was going. It was when he came to a bus stop that he paused to think about where in hell he was going or what he was going to do. The option of returning to base was there, dangled in front of him like a carrot, promising more trouble with higher-ups and the possibility of getting a thorough reaming from Hemingway or someone of the same caliber. That didn’t really appeal to him at that point, especially with alcohol in his system.
At least he could still pick his battles well.
Squinting his eyes as he looked up at the sun, Connor pursed his lips. He snaked his phone out of his pocket, checking the time and if he’d gotten any messages. Nothing.
Why the fuck has Carter not gotten back to me yet, he wondered, relishing the opportunity to think about something other than the fact that his head was completely fucked over at the moment.
A bus appearing as if out of thin air put an end to his indecision. Checking the line number, Dutch got on. He paid the fare and sat down heavily in one of the narrow seats. The bus was mostly empty and he slumped against the window, one hand up for support as he watched the dull, grimy streets of Detroit pass him by.
It wasn’t a coincidence that Squad Six was in Detroit. It was one of the four main hubs that The Firm kept, and acted as operation central for a lot of their ops going farther south. The fact that they were here now probably meant another trip to the wonderful depths of South American jungles, clearing out one viper’s nest after the next.
Detroit had a certain charm to it, like the fact that no one in their right mind would get caught dead being there these days. That was why The Firm kept up such a strong presence, covertly of course. Hard to track an organization that goes to all the places no one else wants to be. Like, say, Detroit.
The drive gave Dutch too much time alone with his thoughts, which was not a good thing. Ari’s face kept coming to him, taunting his thoughts and monopolizing his attention even if he was supposed to be thinking about something else. After the mission, he’d been walking on air, happier than he’d ever remembered himself being.
But that joy was short-lived, because when he returned to the States a few weeks later he found out that Ariadne Gutierrez had quit the organization and pulled a disappearing act so impressive that Houdini should have been taking lessons from her.
She’d vanished, completely, and despite knowing that he shouldn’t have taken it personally, Dutch couldn’t help but do just that. In a way, it had wrecked him.
This is why you don’t get attached, he reminded himself, another mantra that had been with him for a while and never seemed
The only thing keeping him of sound mind and body at this point were missions. It was like the only time he could really concentrate anymore was when he had his rifle in his hands and he was cooped up in a nest, waiting for someone to royally fuck up. The fact that his performance hadn’t suffered was probably one of the only reasons that Connor was still tolerating this bullshit from him.
Not like he was any better back when things went to shit with Cassie, Dutch thought darkly.
But that thought had to be put out of his head real fast. If it wasn’t, then he’d be admitting that there was something deeper to his behavior at the moment. Something comparable to, say, the love one might have for his mate. And that was ludicrous, right?
You don’t even know her. It was one night. Get the fuck over her, Dutch chanted to himself, the same words that he’d told himself over and over and fucking over again.
They didn’t seem to stick very well, though.
He walked down the street at a fast pace, not caring where he was going. It was when he came to a bus stop that he paused to think about where in hell he was going or what he was going to do. The option of returning to base was there, dangled in front of him like a carrot, promising more trouble with higher-ups and the possibility of getting a thorough reaming from Hemingway or someone of the same caliber. That didn’t really appeal to him at that point, especially with alcohol in his system.
At least he could still pick his battles well.
Squinting his eyes as he looked up at the sun, Connor pursed his lips. He snaked his phone out of his pocket, checking the time and if he’d gotten any messages. Nothing.
Why the fuck has Carter not gotten back to me yet, he wondered, relishing the opportunity to think about something other than the fact that his head was completely fucked over at the moment.
A bus appearing as if out of thin air put an end to his indecision. Checking the line number, Dutch got on. He paid the fare and sat down heavily in one of the narrow seats. The bus was mostly empty and he slumped against the window, one hand up for support as he watched the dull, grimy streets of Detroit pass him by.
It wasn’t a coincidence that Squad Six was in Detroit. It was one of the four main hubs that The Firm kept, and acted as operation central for a lot of their ops going farther south. The fact that they were here now probably meant another trip to the wonderful depths of South American jungles, clearing out one viper’s nest after the next.
Detroit had a certain charm to it, like the fact that no one in their right mind would get caught dead being there these days. That was why The Firm kept up such a strong presence, covertly of course. Hard to track an organization that goes to all the places no one else wants to be. Like, say, Detroit.
The drive gave Dutch too much time alone with his thoughts, which was not a good thing. Ari’s face kept coming to him, taunting his thoughts and monopolizing his attention even if he was supposed to be thinking about something else. After the mission, he’d been walking on air, happier than he’d ever remembered himself being.
But that joy was short-lived, because when he returned to the States a few weeks later he found out that Ariadne Gutierrez had quit the organization and pulled a disappearing act so impressive that Houdini should have been taking lessons from her.
She’d vanished, completely, and despite knowing that he shouldn’t have taken it personally, Dutch couldn’t help but do just that. In a way, it had wrecked him.
This is why you don’t get attached, he reminded himself, another mantra that had been with him for a while and never seemed
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