Shattered: Left Hand Justices Series

By Anne Beck

Tesa fled 10 years ago, from the nightmare of her life, and the abuse by her father. She vowed that no man will ever control her again. Needing to returned to fight her demons to be able to move forward and let go of the past. Little did she know that she was heading towards her future. Could she accept what fate has place in her path. Fate had set Logan in front of her. He was tall dark and sexy as hell. Could she let the past go, and let it heal her shattered heart? Or will she turn away from a chance to found love that is only in books.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: May 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781504355162

Anne Beck

ANNE BECK is the mother of three children. She is a grandmother of two grandchildren. She refers to herself as a hopeless romantic. She lives in Salem, Oregon. She enjoys the great Pacific Northwest hiking and trips to the beach. By taking life problems and finding ways to cope with them and still remain true to ones self. She believes we all have an inner strength that when tested can only show you just how strong you can be. She wants the heroines and heroes to have flaws just like the rest of us.

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© 2016 Anne Beck.

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ISBN: 978-1-5043-5515-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-5517-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-5516-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016906175

Balboa Press rev. date: 05/05/2016

Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 1

Had it really been ten years? Driving along, she noticed that the sights and smells were the same. The smells brought back some happy memories, such as the smell of freshly turned earth ready for planting and of fresh air. However, other scents brought nightmares of horrors that no child should have to live through. The smell of mint on a warm summer night triggered a unique pain and fear in her. Why was the air so much better there than where she had been living? The smells told her she was back where she had grown up, in this state that she knew so well. It was late spring, and many of the fields were being plowed in preparation for the year’s crop to be changed from wheat to corn. She could see the sheep tending their lambs as they ran around, playing.

She was now returning home to face the same things that had prompted her to run away ten years earlier. Only after dealing with the past would she be able to heal and go back to the world she had made for herself—and go back to work.

It almost seemed like yesterday that she had driven away as fast as her car would go. Her feelings were about the same. The overwhelming need to get away from this place came rolling back. She had fled for her survival; if she had not left then, she never would have. Some said that time healed all wounds, but some wounds remained, and no matter what she did, she could not fix them. These were the wounds she needed to heal somehow if she was ever going to be able to move on with her life.

Her superiors had forced her to take medical leave in order to give her body and mind time to heal from her last assignment. The department’s doctor had recommended she take the time off, and her chief had agreed. The injuries to her body would require weeks to heal. Her body had taken five shots, two of which had hit her Kevlar vest, leaving black and blue marks and collapsing one of her lungs. The other three bullets had struck different parts of her body: one had hit just above her left breast, one had hit her thigh, and the worst one had torn through and ripped up a great deal of her side. It had taken hours to find all the pieces of the bullets. She had stopped breathing once in the ambulance and twice on the operating table. It had taken her weeks just to get back on her feet. Her body was healing, but her mind—that was something else. Her other team members on the case that night had been killed. She’d been able to kill two drug dealers, each with a shot between the eyes, before passing out. Her guilt over being the only one to survive made the department heads worried. They called the feeling survivor’s guilt and said she also suffered from PTSD.

What she was coming home to face scared her almost as much as it had when she’d left long ago to start a new life. It was funny that now she was returning to heal from the very thing that had started all of this. She was going back to the source of all the problems she had been running from all these years. She knew she needed to come home to face her demons, and there were many of them to face. She hoped it would heal her shattered heart and her soul, which had been numb and cold since the day she’d left.

She headed north up I-5 with the radio turned up, and sounds of classic rock filled the car. It was late spring, but the temperatures were already in the low seventies. She was used to the high eighties typical of Phoenix, Arizona, where she’d been living. Having driven for more than eighteen hours, she needed to find somewhere to rest and put something in her stomach, not to mention the gas tank. She directed the car to an exit in Ashland to get something to eat and find a place to sleep.

There was a Denny’s, which wasn’t busy. She parked and reached behind her to the backseat for her coat. She needed it not to keep her warm but to cover up the gun she carried on her shoulder. To have something to do while she ate, she picked up a newspaper on her way in and then asked the hostess for a table near the back of the restaurant. Ten minutes later, she had ordered and was taking a sip of her coffee, when a commotion caught her eye. She looked up to see the waitress talking to a couple of local cops and pointing her way.

Fuck! she thought. Any type of contact with the local law was the last thing she needed to deal with. She tried to ignore them and continued to skim the paper. The sound of a man clearing his throat broke her concentration.

Excuse me, miss, but could I have a word with you? Please keep your hands in plain sight. The officer appeared young, maybe just starting his career in law enforcement. His partner was much older, with gray hair and weathered skin.

Yes, Officer, what can I do for you? she replied.

Could we take this outside, please? the older officer said.

She suspected that someone might have reported seeing her gun when she got out of her car. She walked outside ahead of the two men, keeping her hands in plain sight. As they stood outside next to a car, she asked, So what can I do for you both?

We received a report that you have a gun. Is that correct? the rookie said.

Yes, Officer, I do, and with it I have ID. May I show it to you? The cop nodded, and she slowly reached into her back pocket to pull out her photo identification. My badge is on my belt by my gun, and if you would like, I can show it to you.

Slowly, the older office said.

Carefully, she pulled her coat back to show the badge and gun. Both officers watched and then looked back up at her.

Sorry to bother you, but as you can understand, when someone sees a gun that is being covered up, they get scared and call us, the older officer said. Enjoy the rest of your evening, ma’am.

I understand, and it’s no problem, but if you could please let the person know that I am one of the good guys too, I would appreciate it, she said.

Once everyone understood that Tesa Miller was a deputy US marshal and that there was nothing to worry about, the tension in the air relaxed. After the officers drove away in their patrol car, she calmly returned to her table, and the waitress brought her food. When she finished eating, she paid and left to get a motel for the night.

As she sat in her motel room, all the memories from ten years earlier came back, including the reasons she had left and what it had taken to get to where she was now. Tesa had not told her family she was coming back to Oregon. The only contact they’d shared was a few phone calls to her mom and some letters now and then. They knew she had been a deputy US marshal for more than three years and that she worked and lived in Phoenix. She loved her job, and she was damn good at it. She had begun training in jujitsu shortly after moving away and was now working on her third-degree black belt. Her mother had been proud when Tesa had graduated at the top of her class and earned her bachelor’s degree in criminal justice. She had trained at the academy in Glynco, Georgia, where she had received high scores in marksmanship and been in the sniper elite class.

The closer she got to home, the more she thought that revisiting her past wasn’t a good idea and wondered if it would help her get back to work any faster. After a restless night void of sleep, she continued to drive north toward the familiar homestead—and a familiar pain.

It would take all the courage she could muster to face the demons of her past. Finally, she pulled up to her parents’ house, where she had grown up with her two younger brothers. She turned off the car and sat motionless with a blank stare on her face as the memories began to replay like a well-worn movie reel. Some were good, but most were not pleasant. She recalled the beatings and the belittling she’d endured as she’d watched her little brothers get away with everything. She remembered being called names and told she was only good for spreading her legs.

A gust of wind blew the low-hanging branches on the mature maple tree in front of her car, and a glint of sunlight shone through the leaves onto her face. Snapping back to the present, she opened the car door and stepped out. Judging by the number of cars in the driveway, she knew there were other visitors at the house. She could hear voices and music coming from the backyard. As she walked around the corner of the house, they came into view: her mother sitting down at the table on the deck and her father standing over the barbecue, both talking to folks Tesa recognized.

Her brothers, Jack, twenty-four, and Ryan, twenty-six, were in the yard, throwing a baseball back and forth. At that moment, all she wanted to do was turn and run away as fast as she could, but her mom spotted her a moment too soon.

Tesa! Oh my God, Tesa! her mom yelled as she arose, ran toward her daughter, and threw her arms around her. They hadn’t seen each other for more than ten years, and she missed her daughter. She was several inches shorter than Tesa and hugged her around the waist. Her brothers ran up and hugged her too, but they did so a little bit too hard, and she gave out a moan. Tesa stepped back. The only one who did not hug her was her father. He just stood there gazing at her. Her mom hugged her again, and this time, she noticed Tesa wince. Tesa said it was nothing and moved away. She told them she had been hurt at work, and her wounds were still healing. She took her coat off, and that was when both of her brothers were able to see the badge.

Her mother asked if she was hungry or thirsty, and Tesa said she wanted something to drink. She missed the water there. To her, it tasted just like the spring water high in the mountains. She sipped her water in between answering the many questions from her mom and brothers. Some inquiries she could not answer because of the case she was working on. They wanted to know long she was going to be there and how she had gotten hurt. Of course, her brother Jack wanted to know if she had fired her gun at someone.

What could she say? That was a sore subject and a question she was not able to answer yet. With that question, images from that night, including all the shots she had fired, filled her mind, especially the last two, which had put a bullet in each drug dealer’s head. She felt the pain of losing everyone on that team and of the injuries that had resulted in weeks in the hospital. She blinked and looked around to find everyone staring at her, waiting for an answer. She did not want to worry any of them and thought it would be best to keep her response simple, so she stated that she had been hurt on duty and needed to take some vacation time, along with the medical leave, to heal. They talked into the night; Tesa only answered direct questions and did not tell them about the case she had been working on. It was close to midnight, and she needed to find a nearby hotel to check in to. Her father had already gone to bed, and so had Jack and Ryan. It was just her and her mom now, and it hurt to leave her, but there was no way in hell she was going to stay there any longer than she had to.

Well, I should be going, she said at last.

Her mom looked at her questioningly. What do you mean? I thought you would stay here, her mom said, disappointed and confused.

Tesa did not want to worry them or wake them in the middle of the night with her nightmares. The bad memories of this place, of her father beating her almost every day only because she was the firstborn and a female, were not something she cared to relive anytime soon.

I know, but I will find someplace close by, and I’ll be around for at least a month. I have a lot of vacation time that I need to use up, Tesa said, trying to soften the news. She said good night to her mom and headed out to find a hotel close by.

She headed to Market Street, just off of I-5. The hotel she found was nice and had a bar that was still open, and she decided to have a drink before bed. After taking her bags up to the room, she headed back downstairs to the bar. She had a taste for whiskey tonight, and after ordering one, she sat back in a dark spot, not wanting anyone to bother her, so she could enjoy the drink and relax a little. Tesa could feel the drink working to relax her muscles, and she hoped a hot shower and the drink would help her get some sleep. Just as she was taking the last sip, a man walked in looking as if he’d had too much to drink already tonight yet wanted more. The bartender was not able to talk the man out of demanding a drink, but he was so drunk he had trouble standing, so the bartender asked him to leave and go home to sleep it off. The man got up in the barkeep’s face, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and started yelling at him. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Tesa stood up, walked over to sit on the barstool next to the man, and then turned to face him.

Hi. What’s your name? she said.

The barkeep looked at her, perplexed. The drunken man let go of him and turned to face Tesa. He was having some trouble focusing on her.

Who the fuck are you, and what business is it to you? he demanded, slurring his words.

Name is Tesa. So what’s going on?

I just want a drink, and this asshole won’t give it to me!

Well, that could be because you have already had plenty, and besides, I’d agree that you are too drunk and really do not need more, Tesa said, smiling at the guy.

Hey, just who the hell do you think you are to tell me I am too drunk, bitch? he slurred.

Tesa liked to be able to talk anyone down and not use force, but it seemed that was not going to happen tonight. She continued smiling at him as if she enjoyed being yelled at.

I’m trying to be nice and let you walk away, but it looks like that is not going to work. She showed him her badge and ID.

They don’t have female marshals, bitch.

Please place your hands on the bar, and spread your feet, sir. There were few things in life she truly hated, and one of them was being called a bitch. The bartender took a step back, grabbing the bottle on the bar away from the guy. Tesa could tell the man was going to take a swing at her, so as the guy clenched his fist and drew back his arm, she stepped aside and let him swing into the air. She then grabbed his arm and bent back his wrist. He immediately dropped to the ground, and she cuffed him. The bartender had called 911, and a few minutes later, the police walked in. After the bartender explained to the cops what had happened and after Tesa gave them her statement and showed her ID, she asked for her cuffs back. The police officers arrested the drunkard and took him off to jail. The bartender thanked her before she headed upstairs for a hot shower and a soft bed, hoping to get some sleep tonight.

Even in sleep, Tesa could not get away from the sights and sounds of her last case. She relived it every night again and again. She’d watch as everyone there was killed, but in her dreams, everything happened in slow motion. She’d wake up covered in sweat, with her heart pounding out of her chest and her breathing labored. She would awaken suddenly to find herself sitting up in bed with her hands out in front of her as if she were holding a gun.

Most of the time, she was unable to get back to sleep, so she would get dressed and find someplace to go for a change of scenery—someplace with coffee and food in the early morning hours, where some people might be around. This time, she found an all-hours diner, where she ordered coffee and purchased the day’s newspaper. By the time she was done reading the paper from start to finish, the sun was emerging over the horizon. The waitress asked if she wanted to order any breakfast before her shift ended, since the only thing Tesa had asked for was coffee. After looking over the menu, she ordered a Denver omelet with toast. Before the waitress left, Tesa handed her a twenty-dollar bill, thanking her for keeping the coffee hot. The waitress was surprised at the amount, but she smiled and rushed to place the order for Tesa.

Tesa looked out the window at the morning sky; it was beautiful to see Mt. Hood and the Cascade Mountain Range lit up with the rising sun in shades of purple, pink, red, orange, and yellow. It was a great sight, and the air had a hint of moisture in it, unlike in Arizona, where the air was always dry.

Driving around and looking at the things that had changed and those that hadn’t proved how long she had been away. Even the school was different—or was she looking at it with different eyes and different feelings? With that thought, she knew that the place hadn’t changed—she had. She stopped off at her mom’s work to see about having lunch later. Tesa walked in and asked for her mom, explaining who she was. A short time later, her smiling mother opened the door and invited her into her office. They made plans to meet for lunch later that day. Tesa drove back to her hotel, thinking about what she would do next. She decided she should check back in with her chief. Tesa felt lost when she did not have anything to do. When she was at home, there was always something she could tend to or finish up; most of the time, it was work. With all the extra time on her hands, her mind had time to wander, and that was not something she