Shattered: Eternal Brethren, #2

By Shirleen Davies

Two people. Two heart-wrenching betrayals.

Travis "Rock" Walker hasn't looked back since disappearing from his family's ranch to join the Navy. Nor does he feel any regret at leaving that life behind. All his time and energy on keeping the team safe while completing each mission assigned to the undercover motorcycle club, Eternal Brethren. If he has any regrets, it would be severing of a friendship with one very special woman.

Doctor Tessa Clark has suffered enough betrayal to last a lifetime. Her focus is firmly on her young son and thriving medical practice. A friendship with an outlaw biker, no matter how he touches her heart, does nothing for her standing in the community. Months later, after many lonely nights and long weekends, she wonders if tearing apart a valued friendship is worth the cost.

Extending a tentative olive branch not only brings their tenuous friendship back to life, but garners the attention of those who have a debt to settle with Rock and the Eternal Brethren. Men who don't care about using a woman as a shield to achieve their goals.

As their friendship grows stronger, Rock must take a difficult look at the cost to not only their lives, but the heart he's so doggedly guarded since his last night on the ranch. He may see himself as invincible, but falling for Tessa could strike a fatal blow. One he's determined to avoid.

Can Rock ensure her safety from the terror surrounding them while keeping his heart closeted away, protected from the woman he refuses to love?

Shattered is book two in the Eternal Brethren Military Romantic Suspense Series by best seller Shirleen Davies. It is a stand-alone, full-length novel with no cliffhanger and a guaranteed HEA.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shirleen Davies
• Release date: May 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781941786949

Book preview

Prologue

Freedom Meadow Ranch

Arizona

Travis Rock Walker dug the heels of his boots into the gelding’s sides, moving him into a gallop. He’d been at Freedom Meadow for a week, taking much needed time off while helping Stuart and Belinda McCord integrate horses from a recently purchased ranch into their existing herd.

The addition of their neighbor’s ranch had doubled the size of Freedom Meadow, allowing the McCords to grow their horse breeding and training program. The older couple had started the ranch when their sons, Caid, Ethan, and Quinn, were young. All three were friends of Rock’s, Caid being one of two men he considered closer than a brother. He grimaced at the thought. It reminded him of his biological brother, his twin, a man he hadn’t seen in close to fourteen years. Ruthlessly shoving aside the unwelcome memory, he continued herding the horses.

With little effort, Rock finished the job Stuart had given him, thinking about the years since high school graduation. He’d earned a full scholarship to the University of Montana and a spot on the football team. The girl he’d loved since they were twelve had agreed to marry him after college. Life couldn’t have been better. At least that was what he’d thought at eighteen.

Hey, Rock.

Caid McCord rode up and reined to a stop, swiping sweat from his brow. Known by most as Wrath, he was the oldest of the three brothers.

I didn’t think you’d arrive so early. Did Admiral Grayson call off the latest mission? His mouth curved into a grin, his gaze moving across the herd.

Caid choked out a laugh. Not hardly. It came together better than we’d thought.

Successful?

Looking at Rock as if he’d gone mad, Caid shook his head in disgust. What do you think?

Knowing better than to respond, Rock kneed his gelding, going after a small group of horses who’d split from the main herd. He’d round them up, then rejoin his friend, who was also his boss.

Caid’s arrival had pulled him from his depressing thoughts of how life on his parents’ ranch ended and the last time he’d seen his family. His life since then had been rewarding, challenging, and much different than he’d envisioned in his senior year of high school.

Mom and Dad sent me to help you get the new horses to the pasture. The kids will be arriving in about an hour and they want everything ready.

Rock smiled despite the previous bleak thoughts and the decision he still had to make. He’d deal with both later, reminding himself why he was at Freedom Meadow. He always looked forward to the Saturdays the McCords invited underprivileged children to the ranch.

Several members of their motorcycle club, Eternal Brethren, had been raised on ranches, were expert riders, and enjoyed passing on their knowledge to those in the foster care system or with disabilities and special needs.

The nine original members of Eternal Brethren, who called themselves the Posse, met years before as Navy SEALs. Each had accepted an invitation from Caid Wrath McCord to join the MC, a deep cover, black ops organization monitored by Admiral Grayson from his office in Coronado, California.

To the outside world, they were a gang buried in illegal activities. Unlike their time as SEALs, the current assignment had each living in a world of gray, straddling a fine line between being upstanding citizens and acting no better than those they hunted. So far, however, they’d successfully completed every mission Grayson gave them—exposing terrorist cells, stopping illegal trafficking of goods and people, and earning the trust of the one percent of truly dangerous motorcycle gangs.

They’d accomplished a great deal in the last four years, and Rock had been proud to be part of it. The grueling hours had taken a toll on each one of them, none more than him, the club’s sergeant-at-arms and third in command after Wrath, the club’s president, and Ghost, the vice president.

Guiding the horses into a pasture not far from the main house and barn, Rock leaned down to close the gate while Wrath rode toward his wife, Cara, and his parents. It was the person standing next to them who caught his attention. A woman he hadn’t seen in close to two years. A young boy squirmed in her arms.

Rock had met Dr. Tessa Clarke when Cara had been threatened by a rival MC. Wrath assigned Rock to protect Cara’s closest friend, a pregnant woman whose fiancé had died in a fiery car crash.

He’d fought his attraction to the redheaded doctor ever since, becoming her shadow after an attack from a rival motorcycle club during Wrath and Cara’s wedding.

During the assault, Tessa had taken a bullet. Rock sat in her hospital room for days, refusing to leave until she’d been released. He’d taken her home, continuing to stop by for a few months afterward. Then, without explanation, she’d refused to open her door, return his texts or calls. They’d never been intimate, nor had Rock ever planned to push their bond beyond friendship. He had no interest in anything more than one night with any woman, and certainly not Cara’s best friend, a wonderful person who’d been severely hurt by another man. The sight of her after all this time caused his chest to tighten.

Reining his horse toward the barn, Rock took little time grooming the gelding, letting him loose in a nearby pasture. The sound of a vehicle approaching signaled the arrival of the children, improving his mood.

Rock headed toward the large bus, positioning himself next to the McCords to greet each child. Wrath’s youngest brother, Quinn, or Wrangler, as most called him, handed out billed caps with the Freedom Meadow name and logo. His mother, Belinda, checked the clothing of each child, ranging in age from six to eleven, confirming they’d dressed as required in long pants and closed-toed shoes.

Once all the children had been checked in, Rock led them to a corral holding four saddled horses. Wrath, Wrangler, Stuart, and Rock would teach the basics of mounting and reining a horse around the fenced area.

This was when the day became interesting. Most in the group couldn’t wait to get on a horse. A few always backed away, eyes wide with fear.

Over his time volunteering, Rock discovered the right words, tone of voice, and encouraging manner could turn a scared child into one who’d at least try to ride. Some rode a few minutes, others didn’t want to dismount. Either way, Rock saw it as a win.

Whether they rode or not, all the children were taken to another corral where four sawhorses with a practice steer head attached were spaced several feet apart. Four Freedom Meadow ranch hands taught them how to use a lasso, an activity every child enjoyed.

They’d finished with their fifth and last group when he sensed someone approach.

Hello, Rock.

Turning at Tessa’s familiar voice, he hadn’t been prepared for the punch to his gut at seeing her walking toward him. She’d lost the extra weight from her pregnancy, the tight jeans hugging her curvy hips and long, slender legs. Her red hair was braided, spilling over one shoulder. She held her son’s hand, taking her time so the toddler could keep up. But it was her bright, emerald green eyes and broad smile which hit him the hardest.

Tessa. Keeping his voice crisp and impersonal, he forced his attention to the child, kneeling down. Who is this?

Her grip loosened, the boy’s momentum carrying him into Rock’s outstretched arms. His name is William Travis Clarke. He’s fifteen months old. I call him Travis.

Stilling in the process of lifting the child into his arms, he stared up at her. Travis?

Tessa glanced away, then turned back, her gaze determined. Crossing her arms, she prepared herself for Rock’s reaction. William for my father. Travis after you.

Standing, he held the boy close. How did you learn my real name?

Cara coerced it out of Wrath.

Lifting a brow, he chuckled. No one coerces anything out of Wrath.

Letting out a breath, the corners of her mouth tilted up. All right. She happened to come across a file at home which showed your real name. She studied his western shirt, silver buckle, cowboy hat, and boots. I almost didn’t recognize you without your leather vest.

We leave our cuts on our bikes or in our trucks when coming to the ranch. Rock bounced Travis in his left arm, brushing dust from the boy’s face. Why give him my name? There must be someone else who means something to you.

The tremulous grin faded. Our friendship always meant something to me, Rock.

You didn’t return any of my calls or texts. We haven’t spoken in well over a year, Tessa. It must not have meant too much. Holding Travis toward her, he took a step away.

It wasn’t because of you. She ignored his skeptical gaze, letting out a breath. It’s what you do, Rock.

He didn’t require more explanation to know what she meant. All Tessa knew about him was he was a member of a motorcycle gang deep into illegal activities. Other than the actual members of Eternal Brethren and the handpicked noncombatants who were a part of their team, only Cara and Ethan McCord, Wrath’s brother and the sheriff of Kingston County, knew the real reason for their formation. Tessa saw him as a criminal. No better than the gang who’d shot her at the wedding. And she wasn’t cleared by Admiral Grayson to know more.

Yeah, I suspected as much. Rock couldn’t hide the resignation or slight resentment in his voice.

Associating with what most saw as a brutal, criminal motorcycle club kept the members of Eternal Brethren away from serious relationships. Wrath was the only one who had formed something more. Admiral Grayson hadn’t been happy with it. His objections had vanished when Wrath threatened to leave the Navy if the admiral pushed him to walk away from Cara. She still knew nothing of their specific missions, even though she’d been informed of the club’s purpose.

It’s about protecting Travis. After what happened at the wedding… Tessa shrugged, her voice fading.

As much as he’d enjoyed his time with her, Rock knew continuing the distance she’d begun after the shooting was for the best. Rekindling their friendship could be dangerous. Not just to Tessa, but also her son. The cocky smile he’d perfected split his face.

Not a problem, Tessa. I don’t live the type of life suitable for a pediatrician trying to build a practice in Liberty Lake. A friendship with me would cause you nothing but problems if your patients found out. Reaching out, he touched Travis’s nose. Take care of your boy.

Rock didn’t wait for a response before leaving her to stare after him.

Chapter One

Six Months Later…

Eagle down. I repeat. Eagle down. Rock’s stern voice spoke into the radio, his gaze moving over his fallen comrade while trying to keep them out of the line of fire. His broad hand pressed on the man’s wound, trying to stem the flow of blood.

Hold your position. Help’s coming to you.

Negative, Wrath. You’ll be heading into a trap.

Continuing the pressure on the wound, Rock raised his rifle, picking off one of the attackers who’d been foolish enough to lift his head. Another crack of a rifle felled another. He guessed Ghost, Wrangler, and a few others had arrived, but he couldn’t tell where they were positioned.

This was supposed to have been a simple mission. Two small teams of Eternal Brethren would surround what the FBI had identified as a known terrorist cell in the northern mountains of New Mexico. The agents had counted three men inside a picturesque log cabin. There were considerably more than that.

Ghost, Wrangler, and Doc moving toward you. Repeat. Friendlies moving toward your position. Wrath’s voice crackled in Rock’s ear.

Rock cursed under his breath, but answered. Roger.

Rising enough to see over the berm concealing them, Rock scanned the area, then dropped down when a bullet hit the dirt inches from his head.

Thank God for the NVGs. Without the night vision goggles, he’d be blind, as would his teammates. Rock suspected the terrorists also wore them, which explained their ability to shoot with such accuracy in the almost total blackness.

You aren’t as good as you think. Spitting out the murmured words, Rock kept pressure on the wound while sighting again. He’d seen movement when scanning the terrain between him and the cabin, but couldn’t make out their position now. Rock hoped Ghost and Wrangler had better luck.

Disgusted at his inability to do more as his teammate continued to bleed, he flinched at the sound of a loud boom and flash of light from the direction of the cabin.

What the fuck? Ghost’s angry voice broke over the radio. Rock. What’s your status?

Clear and secure.

Possibly not, but Rock’s response would assure the others he wasn’t anywhere near the explosion.

Less than half a klick from you.

Wrangler’s words brought a measure of relief. Rock had no fear for himself, but they needed to get their teammate medical treatment. Doc had been assigned to move out with Ghost, so help wasn’t far away.

Assuming nothing else happened to continue this CF of a mission. The members of Eternal Brethren could handle any assignment thrown at them, even those with bad intel. They had a perfect record, but this one had strayed wildly away from normal. It was as if they were purposely fed faulty information. Rock knew every detail of the operation had been provided by the FBI.

Movement to his side had Rock swiveling around, his rifle sweeping the area. A moment later, Ghost, Wrangler, and Doc emerged in almost complete silence, crouching as they approached.

Doc didn’t waste energy talking. Instead, he went right to work, checking the wound, pulling out what he needed from his medical pack. Before joining the Navy and applying to become a SEAL, Jon Doc Makepeace graduated from medical school. Despite the pleading of his parents and fiancée, he’d chosen to serve his country in battle rather than go straight to a residency program. His parents stuck by him. The fiancée didn’t. Doc’s medical skills, along with his proficiency as a sniper, made him one of the most valued members of the team.

Did you set off the explosion? Ghost hunkered down behind the berm, not looking at Rock as he spoke.

No. Did Wrath send out another team to come up behind them?

No. He would’ve communicated with us if he did. Ghost looked through his scope, checking for movement from what was left of the cabin.

Maybe they spotted your group, decided they couldn’t make it out alive, and sacrificed themselves. Rock dismissed the thought right away, shaking his head. That can’t be right.

Status? Wrath’s voice crackling through the radio had Ghost responding.

My team is set. Doc’s working on the casualty. He glanced at Doc, who gave a grim smile. He’ll be fine. Any idea who set the explosive?

Negative, Wrath bit out in disgust. It wasn’t detonated by the occupants. It was launched.

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Wrath set down the phone, as irritated now as when he’d answered the admiral’s call. Grayson is in contact with the FBI. He’s as angry as the rest of us and swore he’d get to the bottom of this fiasco. Until then, all intel provided by the FBI will be checked by the admiral’s staff. Afterward, he’ll make the decision whether to pass the mission on to us or push it to another team.

Rock, Ghost, and Wrangler glanced at each other. What Wrath meant was a regular SEAL team, rather than the undercover Eternal Brethren, might carry out the assignment.

Ghost scrubbed a hand down his face. There’s an informant in the FBI.

Rock nodded, his gaze locking on Wrath. How many know about us?

Leaning back in his chair, Wrath thought about the question. Nothing’s changed. The original men who gained permission for our formation—Admiral Grayson, the Vice President, Secretary of the Navy, and FBI Director. The director has also included his highest ranking special agent-in-charge, known only to those I’ve mentioned and me. The agents supporting our missions believe we truly are an outlaw motorcycle gang trying to squeeze out rival gangs. They don’t know we’re a SEAL black ops team.

Chuckling, Rock leaned forward. I’d like to be a fly on the wall for their debriefing sessions.

Wrangler smiled, lifting a brow. CIA?

Wrath snorted at the thought. No.

Leaning back in his chair, Ghost threaded his hands behind his head. There’s a rotten FBI agent who’s figured out who we are and is using the information to sabotage our missions so we won’t learn too much.

About what? Wrangler asked.

Ghost lifted one shoulder in a shrug. The agent is a traitor, possibly a member of the Night Devils, Demons Blood, or another MC. He alerts them of our specific missions. I believe that’s what happened almost two years ago when we were attacked during a simple run. It worked out, but it was much too close for it to be anything except a setup.

Wrath rested his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers under his chin. I’ve been thinking the same. So has Admiral Grayson. That’s why he won’t assign us any more missions without double and triple checking the intel. In some ways, we’ve all become complacent due to our unparalleled success rate.

Rock looked at Wrath. What do you want us to do?

Until I hear from Grayson, keep training the men, plan fake runs, focus on growing our businesses, and make certain everyone stays out of trouble.

Wrangler stood, walking to a window before turning back to his oldest brother. What about Ethan?

Wrath’s brows drew together. Their middle brother was the sheriff of Kingston County, his offices located in the town of Liberty Lake. Besides Cara, he was the only local civilian who knew the true origin and purpose of the Eternal Brethren.

What about him?

Do we tell him of our suspicions?

Wrath’s response was quick and clear. No. The less he knows the safer he’ll be. If we need his help, I’ll meet with him. Pushing up from his desk, he remembered something. Barbeque at my place on Sunday. All members of the Posse, plus Wrangler, Doc, and Ethan. He glanced at Wrangler. I think Ethan’s bringing a guest.

No kidding. Do you know her?

Nope. Cara’s anxious to meet her. Also, anyone without an assignment on Saturday is welcome at the ranch. There’s another busload of children coming out to Freedom Meadow and we could use some help.

Wrangler nodded. I’ll be there.

So will I. Ghost stood. I’m ready for some time away from this place.

Wrangler and Ghost left, leaving the other two alone.

Rock grinned, chuckling. "Count me in. Okay to bring