Guilty Sin

Book 4: ALFA PI

by Chelle Bliss

Genres: Military Romance; Romantic Suspense; Sagas; Romance; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

"WILD and DIRTY! Chelle's HOTTEST!" --iScreamBooks

When a mission puts a woman under Ret's protection, he and his longtime girlfriend Alese welcome her into their home. What starts out as a friendship rooted in trust ignites into a romance far bigger than any of them expect.

Love isn't always neat, and sometimes it can't be confined to an even number.

Get ready for the hottest book of this STANDALONE SERIES yet. Ret is prepared to make you beg.

ALFA Investigations Series:
Book 1: Sinful Intent
Book 2: Unlawful Desire
Book 3: Wicked Impulse
Book 4: Guilty Sin

Release date: May 15, 2018

Publisher: Bliss Ink LLC

Print pages: 195

Sample

Chapter 1

 

Ret

 

 

Dropping my bag to the floor, I collapsed backward onto the mattress. I focused on the stain on the ceiling, wondering how in the hell anything got up there.

 

“Dude, I thought you were smarter than this,” James pleaded on the other end of the phone, unhappy because I took off without bringing someone as backup.

 

“I’ve been after this guy for far too long. I know his kind, and I can’t risk someone fucking things up.”

 

“When do we ever fuck things up?”

 

“We don’t, but Solease is far too dangerous. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

 

Martin Solease had been on the FBI’s most wanted list for over twenty years, and in the last five, he’d climbed to the number one spot. He’d skipped bail while awaiting trial for murdering his entire family, and then he’d racked up a handful more deaths while eluding the authorities over the last two decades.

 

“But it’s okay if you do?”

 

He had a point. Being in harm’s way wasn’t anything new to me. I’d spent my life tracking down assholes, first for the military and then as a bounty hunter. It’s what I did. All I knew. The one thing I couldn’t get used to was putting those around me, people I cared for, in danger too.

 

“If I get killed, it’s no big deal, man. I don’t have kids to worry about like the rest of you.”

 

“Dumb fuck,” he hissed. “Alese will have my balls if you die. You know that, right?”

 

“True that.” I laughed, picturing her marching into ALFA and grabbing James by the nuts. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow. I’m going to get some shut-eye before I head out tomorrow.”

 

“Bear’s coming after you.”

 

“Call him off.”

 

Damn. My father was the last person I wanted hot on my trail and swooping in to save the day like he always tried to do. He wasn’t smooth or stealthy like he thought he was; he came in basically announcing himself like a wrecking ball.

 

“Nope. This one’s off the books and doesn’t fall under my jurisdiction. Bear’s your problem, not mine.”

 

I narrowed my gaze on the stain. “That’s bullshit, James.”

 

“I have to run. Keep in contact, and let me know when you’re headed back.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

I let my phone drop to the mattress as soon as the call disconnected and closed my eyes. Bear might have been headed my way, but that didn’t mean he’d catch me before I was on the move again. I was sure, at this point, Fran and Alese were climbing the walls, coming up with crazy ways to punish me for my foolish behavior.

 

When I finally opened my eyes five hours later, I had ten text messages and two missed calls. James was the two calls, probably to bitch me out again, and all the text messages were from Alese.

 

“I know you are dead set on going after Solease, but I need you to make a quick pit stop in Atlanta first. Details are in your email. I’ll call back in a few hours,” James said on my voice mail.

 

Groaning, I pushed myself upright and blinked away the last bit of haze from my eyes before I attempted to read James’s lengthy email waiting in my inbox.

 

The subject line read Personal Favor – Important and For Your Eyes Only. I figured it was a ploy, something to stop me from going after Solease, but as I scanned the details of the file along with James’s notes, I knew I was wrong.

 

Nya Halstead was a twenty-five-year-old woman who’d cut off all communication with her family two months ago. Her mother, a Tampa resident and trustee of a local charity foundation, had contacted ALFA to assist in locating her daughter without law enforcement involvement.

 

The last known location for Nya was in Atlanta, as she’d graduated from Georgia State University just before her disappearance. Mrs. Halstead believed her daughter had fallen for the wrong man and was being held against her will, unable to contact her family. The Halsteads were willing to pay ALFA one hundred thousand dollars for the safe return of their daughter.

 

Included with the email was a photo of Nya, smiling with her diploma in one hand and her graduation cap in the other. Her long, wavy, brown hair flowed out to the side, carried by the wind, glistening in the sun. Her big brown eyes twinkled as the apples of her cheeks almost kissed the bottom. Her wide smile was infectious, framed by full lips and perfectly straight, white teeth. She reminded me of a young Mandy Moore, a natural beauty.

 

As I zoomed in to get a better look, the shiny silver collar with a diamond encrusted lock that she wore around her neck caught my eye.

 

The design wasn’t something that could be found at a department store or worn purely for decoration. I’d seen the style before, the handiwork of the only well-known BDSM jeweler below the Mason-Dixon line.

 

James’s notes included information he’d uncovered through our contacts in the Atlanta area. Nya had been a member at Charmed, an exclusive BDSM club, catering to the filthy rich socialites with too much cash and a thirst for the dark side. She hadn’t been seen at the club since she disappeared, but she had been a submissive to a Diego Lopez for a year before she vanished.

 

James had been able to confirm that Nya was last seen with Diego and that Diego would be at Charmed tonight, therefore leaving his home unattended, allowing me just enough time for a thorough search of the premises.

 

I was out of my room in under ten minutes, coffee in hand from the lobby, and headed toward my car.

 

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any more fucked up, my father was leaning against his car with his arms folded, working a toothpick between his lips. “Morning, sunshine.”

 

Tightening my grip on my bag, I stalked toward the car and cracked my neck. “What are you doing here? Go home, Pop.”

 

He pulled the toothpick from his mouth and smiled. “I’m happy to see you too.”

 

I popped the trunk as he pushed off his car and walked toward me. I practically threw my bag inside the back before slamming the lid. “How did you find me?”

 

“GPS.” He shrugged like it was the most logical answer in the world and I was an idiot for asking.

 

“You have a tracker up my ass?”

 

“Nope.” He gave me a big, toothy grin, thoroughly impressed with himself. “Tracked you through the company cell phone, wiseass.”

 

I made a quick mental note to ditch the ALFA cell phone as soon as I got back so shit like that didn’t happen again. “Fuckin’ James.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I turned to face him and stared him down. “Go home. Be with Fran.”

 

“Hell, son. Fran sent me here.”

 

I glanced toward the brilliant orange and yellow sky as the sun started to peek over the trees. “For the love of God.”

 

“God ain’t got nothing to do with me being here—that’s all Fran. I don’t want to hear that woman’s nonstop pecking about you being in danger while I sit at home, drinking beer and relaxing. I’m going with you, and that’s all there’s to say about it. You got a problem with it, you call Fran and talk to her.”

 

I cursed under my breath, but I didn’t dare call Fran. She wasn’t someone I wanted to mess with, and the woman had a tongue more wicked than most men I knew. The last person I needed pissed at me was her.

 

“I’m not going to Tennessee.”

 

“Where are we headed?”

 

“Atlanta, but you’re still not going.”

 

The man had been absent for almost thirty years of my life, but since the day I agreed to work at ALFA, he’d been practically up my ass, trying to make up for lost time. Sometimes I found his attention palatable, but times like this, where he put his nose where it didn’t belong, I wanted to sock him square in the jaw.

 

He arched an eyebrow, not the least bit shocked at the news. “Halstead girl?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Sex club shit?” He held his breath.

 

“Yep.”

 

He pointed to himself with his thumbs, displaying a cocky grin. “Then I’m your man.”

 

“This isn’t really your thing,” I told him.

 

“I don’t have a thing.” He put the toothpick back between his lips before rolling it with his tongue.

 

“Fine,” I groaned and finally gave in. I wasn’t winning this battle. I knew that much. I wasn’t burning time with an argument I had no hope of winning. “Get in the car. We’ll figure out a plan on the way.”

 

“Hell yeah! Let’s go fuck up some shit.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dad waited down the street, watching for any sign of Diego while I headed toward the house.

 

“Coast is still clear,” he whispered into the microphone connected to my headset.

 

“You don’t need to whisper. Only I can hear you.” I rolled my eyes as I worked the tension wrench and pick in the back door lock.

 

When the lock finally opened, I moved quickly, searching for any trace of the girl. “First floor’s clear,” I told Pop. “Moving upstairs.”

 

“You’re good to go, champ.”

 

This was probably just another dead-end lead in a missing person’s case because families often went after someone or something they couldn’t understand. Fetish lifestyles were usually their first target because it wasn’t mainstream enough for them to wrap their heads around.

 

In the last few years, the stigma attached to BDSM had waned, and the lifestyle had grown more mainstream after a popular fiction series had become a pop culture phenomenon. But there were still people who believed the gruesome, overdramatized, and often misguided facts presented by the media about the dangers of sex clubs and their ties to human trafficking.

 

I made my way through the upstairs, clearing each room except the last. With my gun drawn and flashlight in hand, I pushed open the door, ready for whoever or whatever was on the other side.

 

All I found was darkness. I spun around, wondering how our intel had been so wrong. This entire thing had been a waste of time. I should’ve been tracking down Solease, finally putting that bastard behind bars instead of searching a posh mansion on the outskirts of Atlanta. By now, half the bounty hunters in the country were hundreds of miles closer to him, circling like vultures to get their hands on the reward. I’d never be able to make up enough ground to catch up.

 

I stalked toward the door and holstered my weapon, ready to get the hell out of there before Diego came home and a waste of time turned into a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

 

Then I heard it. Faint, but my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. I rushed toward the excessively tall bed and fell to my knees, lifting up the bed skirt and exposing a metal cage underneath. A woman huddled near the opposite corner with her knees pulled to her chest, burying her face. She whimpered as I pointed my flashlight at her, and she scurried farther away, pressing her back flush against the other side.

 

“Ma’am,” I said softly, shining the light on myself so she could see my face. “Your mother, Jeanine Halstead, sent me.”

 

“Mom,” she whispered with a shaky voice and peered over her knees, shrouded in a pile of brown hair.

 

Flashing my light on her again, I could finally see the big brown eyes from the photo staring back at me. “Hang tight. I’ll have you out of there in a minute.”

 

Nya scurried across the hardwood floor on her knees with tears running down her face. “Help me,” she pleaded and wrapped her fingers around the bars until her knuckles turned white.

 

Diego was lucky he wasn’t home. It would’ve been my pleasure to torture him slowly and watch him die, begging for his life like a little bitch, after the way I’d found her.

 

I darted my eyes to hers as she stared at me with her face pressed against the bars while I worked the lock. “You’re safe now, little one. You’re safe,” I told her as I pried open the last chamber inside the lock, popping the metal clasp.

 

Nya crawled out, wearing nothing except the collar from the photograph. She could barely stand as she tried to push herself off the floor. Without a second thought, I wrapped my arms around her before she collapsed, cradling her. She clung to me, her fingers laced tightly around my neck as I jammed everything into my back pockets.

 

Running down the steps, I was out the front door and heading toward the car with Nya safely in my arms. She rested her head against my chest, still and silent as I stalked down the driveway toward my father. His eyes grew wide as soon as he saw the girl in my arms.

 

“The fuck. She’s naked,” he said in a low tone as I motioned for him to open the door so I could get her inside and us the fuck out of there.

 

“I didn’t have time to dress her.” I placed Nya in the back seat and grabbed a blanket I’d kept in the back just in case. “You’re safe now,” I repeated, trying to get her to calm down as I wrapped the blanket around her naked, trembling body.

 

“Don’t go,” she said, her voice soft and laced with fear as I backed away, about to close the door.

 

“This guy’s an animal and deserves to be put down,” my father said behind me, pacing next to the car like a caged lion. “I’ll drive. You look after the girl.” He didn’t wait for me to answer as he opened the driver’s-side door.

 

I didn’t have time to argue, and with one look at Nya’s face, I knew I couldn’t sit in the front and leave her in the back, trembling and alone. Getting in on the other side, I maintained a safe distance from Nya—for her sake, not mine. After a traumatic experience, I knew human touch and even nearness could be overwhelming to a person. But instead of staying on the other side of the back seat, she crawled in my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck.

 

My dad’s eyes were glued to the rearview mirror, watching in just as much shock as me as she placed her head on my chest. “Go,” I told him, ready to get the hell out of Atlanta.