Book 'Em Bridget Read online

  Book ‘Em Bridget

  Iron Badges

  Danielle Norman

  Reviews are Important

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  Hey, don’t forget to leave a review when you’re done reading.

  Here are perks exclusive to Danielle fans only, bwahaha

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  At 250 reviews- you get a lifetime subscription of the sugar free, knock-off version of Oreos called Whoreos. Did you read that wrong? It is Who reos, get your mind out of the gutter.

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  At 1000 reviews- a unicorn jumps out of every book and lulls you to sleep with a lullaby before shanking anyone that karma forgot with its horn.

  Everyday someone crosses your path and you know that they are there for a reason, maybe like a speedbump. I want to dedicate this book to them.

  * * *

  This is to Marty, the first woman with a brain small enough to send me hate mail because she didn’t like Stella’s people skills in my Iron Orchids series. And felt it reflected on me as an author.

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  All I have to say is, bwahahaha. Do you fucking realize that I am STELLA? That is why she was so fucking easy to write.

  Ever after I was ruined for any other.

  -Unknown

  Copyright © 2019 by Danielle Norman

  and F Squared, LLP

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission from either the author and or the above named publisher of this book with the exception for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction.

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  The name Danielle Norman® is a registered Trademark

  Contents

  From Danielle

  Untitled

  Prologue

  1. Bridget

  2. Eli

  3. Bridget

  4. Bridget

  5. Eli

  6. Bridget

  7. Eli

  8. Bridget

  9. Eli

  10. Bridget

  11. Bridget

  12. Eli

  13. Bridget

  14. Bridget

  15. Eli

  16. Bridget

  17. Eli

  18. Bridget

  19. Bridget

  20. Eli

  Epilogue

  Meet Danielle

  Lets Socialize

  Enough

  Stetson

  Getting Even

  Book ‘em Sadie

  Danielle’s Books

  Thank you

  Untitled

  Book ’em, Bridget

  Danielle Norman

  Prologue

  Bridget

  * * *

  “Bridget Ann, get down here, I want to get some pictures with your brothers before your boy gets here.”

  “Coming, Ma!” I hollered back down the stairs and then ran into the bathroom for one final look. I turned and faced away then glanced over my shoulder, the back of my dress looked good, my hair was in place. “This is as good as you’re going to get, Bridget,” I announced to no one but myself.

  I headed down the stairs, stepping carefully so I didn’t trip and break my blasted neck. It would be just my luck to go to my senior prom limping.

  Our stairs were divided, half a flight, then a platform, then the steps turned before finally reaching the first floor. I had just made the curve when I heard him and like always, my heart jumped. Over the last few months he had become like another member of the family, but he wasn’t…oh no, no guys in my family looked that hot, I can promise you that. I took a deep breath in anticipation of seeing him.

  “Oh, Bridget, whoever said that redheads can’t wear red never saw you. You’re stunning.” Ma headed over to me and snapped a picture.

  “Darn it, Ma, you nearly blinded me. Wait until I’m off the stairs or I’m gonna crash down these steps and land in a tangled heap.”

  “You can hear the Irish brogue in her when she gets aggravated, can’t you?” Callum, my oldest brother, asked. I bent to give my brother a dirty look, since part of the wall upstairs was still blocking my view, but I never saw Callum. Callum who? Was he there? Hmm, because all I saw was the man of my dreams. I only had eyes for one man, and it wasn’t my prom date. Nope, it was my brother’s—let me correct that, my oldest brother’s best friend, Elijah Christopher Grey, Eli.

  I took the last few steps.

  He raised his dark lashes—the kind I had to spend ten minutes trying to get with mascara and an eyelash curler but were natural to him—then winked.

  One knee buckled, and I caught myself with the banister just as he rushed forward and held out a hand to me. “Careful, Little One.” That was it, the moment I knew that no man would ever make the sun shine brighter in my world than Eli.

  Unfortunately, to Eli, I was just a cloud that floated in and out of his life. He knew I was there, but for the most part, I was transparent.

  Chapter 1

  Bridget

  “Breaking news, four out of five deputies think you’re an idiot!” I yelled at the reporter on television. She had a way of getting under everyone’s skin. Well, everyone who was in law enforcement, that was. Every ten minutes, Haley Loles remind the viewers who she was and that she was with Channel Nine news, just in case we forgot. As if her name and the news station were more important than the actual fucking news.

  “And now for our top story, a third woman has gone missing—” I raced from my bathroom where I was getting ready and grabbed my remote, fumbling it in my haste to find the volume button and turn up the sound. “The woman, twenty-year-old Cicily Barlow, was last seen at Spring Break Bash, which is held annually on the Indian River. Cicily is five-five, with light brown hair, and blue eyes. If you have any information on Cicily’s whereabouts, you’re urged to call the crime line at . . .”

  Since I knew the hotline number and it didn’t seem as if she had anything else today, I flipped the television off and headed back to my bathroom to finish getting dressed. In just under two hours, I’d graduate the law enforcement academy. Then I would finally be able to help make a difference. I loved my family, but as the fourth person to have McGuire embroidered on their Orange County uniform, I needed to stand out from my da, be better than my brothers, and make a bigger impact. Every time I heard about another crime, another girl missing, I made a promise that I would make a difference. I was tired of hearing about women falling prey or men trying to take advantage of women just because they thought we were a weaker sex. I would show them what the “weaker sex” could do—ram my knee so far up their nuts that they’d be singing soprano.

  The loud honking from a horn outside my window had me running and peering down to the parking lot. I smiled when I saw an older Ford Bronco covered with streamers and balloons, with the words ‘Congratulations Bridget’ painted across the windows. Oh, and let’s not forget the four idiots hanging out of the Bronco screaming. God, I loved my best friends.

  After grabbing my hat, keys, and a change of clothes, I headed out the door of my second-story apartment and jumped into Harley’s Bronco.

  I was sitting on stage facing out toward the audience, trying hard not to fidget as our class president gave his speec
h. No one ever told me how hot the uniform was. Not hot as in, I made this shit look good. No, I’m talking more like a sweating like a whore in church or, if I had balls I’d grab the bottle of Monkey Butt kind of hot. To top it off, every time I moved my new, just-issued leather utility belt, holster, and TASER strap, made more noise than if I would have sat there popping a sheet of bubble wrap.

  I was sitting in the auditorium at Valencia College Law Enforcement Academy, where I’d attended for the past twenty-six weeks. Most days, we weren’t even on campus. We were either at the gun range, the driving course, or in a gym where we worked on hand-to-hand combat, subduing, and speed of restraint.

  When the first speech was finished, our class coordinator stepped up. Mr. Forrester had been awesome but tough. He cleared his throat, and we all came to attention. To some, this may just be the police academy, but it was treated with all the pomp and circumstance of any military graduation.

  “I retired from LAPD after twenty-five years of service and have had the pleasure of meeting so many fresh, new officers. But none had such potential as this class.” I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that this was a canned opening line and he probably said it to every class. “Before I hand you to Mr. Knight, the head of the academy, and we begin passing out diplomas, I’d like to take a moment and recognize several people. First of all”—he glanced over to us sitting in neat little rows—“you will notice that several of our soon-to-be graduates are in uniform and not in academy-issued BDU. These are the graduates who have already secured positions on their forces. Congratulations!” He waited for the crowd to applaud, then he glanced over at me, a barely there smile on his lips as my family cheered louder than everyone else. I didn’t have to turn to know they were waving small green flags like pennants with my name printed on them, which they had done for both my brothers before me. If I could flip them off, I so would. No need to have enemies when you have best friends ready to embarrass you at every opportunity. They were the bratty sisters that you never wanted and couldn’t shake.

  I ended up glancing in their direction. Harley, Piper, Kat, and Sadie were holding signs that, when put together, read: “Bridget, we’ve got your six.” I smiled because their sign was sweet, but it wasn’t anything I didn’t already know. My four best friends always had my back.

  The coordinator continued, “We have several distinguished guests from agencies around Central Florida who are here to support their new hires.” The coordinator only introduced three people though, the two captains who were there from different police departments and the highest-ranking officer in the room, Sheriff Kate Dempsey. I was honored, since she was here to support me. Before being elected as sheriff, she worked with my brothers and my da before he retired.

  I felt like I stood out, not only because of Sheriff Dempsey but also because my brothers, my dad, and all my best friends were in their dress uniforms. “So, without further ado, let me issue some esteemed awards. Class 19-04—” We all stood at attention. “The award for the highest overall GPA, with a perfect one-hundred percent on every test except one, your class valedictorian is Nate Johnson . . .” I wasn’t shocked. The guy, Douche Canoe Johnson, knew his shit, but he was such a freaking brown-noser. It hadn’t taken long for me as well as others to tag him as an ass-kisser who would push you off the ladder of success if meant there was more room for him. But I applauded along with everyone else as he accepted his award. “Our next two awards are hard earned, literally. Every now and then, the person with the highest score in physical fitness by the end of the year is also our most improved in physical fitness from the beginning of the year.” I clapped when he announced Juan Cortez, who absolutely earned both awards. He worked so hard. Someone wolf whistled as the rest of us cheered while Juan was presented with his award. “And our last award is designated for the best marksman. Class 19-04 is my tenth class of students to graduate and the first class to make me have to change the name of the award.” We all looked puzzled. I had hoped to have a shot at this award. I’d discovered a love for shooting, and that I had a skill for hitting my targets. Maybe it was natural talent, or maybe it was because I dragged my friends to the gun range on our days off. I kept telling them that practice made perfect. “This year, the award isn’t marksman, it’s markswoman, and it goes to Bridget McGuire.”

  I sat stunned, not moving until I caught sight of my ma.

  Go, Ma mouthed, moving her lips, over-exaggerating the word and following it up with hand gestures. But it was the bump against my arm that pulled me from my fog, and I walked up to accept my award as I fought back a grin. My girls, my posse, gang, whatever were holding boxes of donuts and another sign. This one read: “Good, Bridget, you get a donut.” I wanted to groan—or flip them off. The blasted sign read like they were talking to a dog. Good, Fido, you get a treat.

  The rest of the graduation flew by, and when the head of the academy walked to the podium, he began immediately with our names. He called us in alphabetical order, and like a herd of lemmings, we followed the person in front of us up to the stage, first accepting our diploma, then shaking his hand and our coordinator’s hand before moving on to each official officer in attendance, beginning with Sheriff Dempsey.

  “Congratulations, Bridget, I’m so honored that our office has another female deputy. Now, I want you to show the boys in your family what we women can do.” She smiled, shook my hand, and then sent me on my way. I wasn’t officially with them yet, since I had my official swearing in for Orange County later this week, but I was as good as hired anyway.

  I moved down the line. There were officers, sergeants, lieutenants, and even captains from different departments around Central Florida. When I finally made it to my family and friends, I was engulfed in hugs.

  “Take your time, I’ll see you at home.” Ma kissed me.

  “I’m awful proud of you, Bridget Ann,” Da said as he leaned in to place a small peck on my cheek. Da had a belly that suggested beer had been cruel to him, but the rest of his body was still in great shape. “Don’t take too long, you know your ma, she’s got an entire party planned but wants it to be a surprise.” His Irish brogue was stronger than mine unless, of course, I was drunk, then for some reason I sounded like a fucking leprechaun.

  “I know. I’ll hurry.”

  I moved quickly and said goodbye to some of my classmates, the ones I’d truly miss, and promised to keep in touch with them. Then turning to head toward Piper and the rest of my friends, I stopped because Eli was standing with them. What the hell was he doing here? He wasn’t a deputy. Sure, he worked with my brother Callum occasionally, but Eli was FBI.

  He was the type of man they used in commercials when they were trying to convince people to join something like the military. You know how they always managed to find the most perfect specimens to fit our wildest imaginations? That was Eli to a T.

  Pulling my shoulders back, I strode over.

  “You ready?” I asked Harley, who wasn’t in the middle of a conversation.

  “Sure, let’s wait for them, Eli is catching Piper and Sadie up on something.” I nodded but used the time to try to collect myself. Whenever he was around, I couldn’t decide which was louder, the pounding of my heart or the pounding of my head. My heart because I’d been harboring a secret crush on him for years, my head because I knew that my heart was being stupid, and I needed some common sense knocked into me.

  “Well, I’ll go wait outside for y’all.” I took one step before a hand wrapped around my wrist, holding me in place. Eli might have stopped me, but he was still completely entrenched in the conversation he was having.

  “You traverse a wider area, so I wanted to make you aware. If you see anything, let my department know immediately,” he said to Piper.

  “Will do. Have you spoken to Sheriff Dempsey or Captain Getty?” she asked.

  “My higher-ups have a meeting with them later this week, but I wanted to give you a heads-up in case the information didn’t trickle down,” Eli finished, then
he turned without dropping his hold on my wrist. “Bridget, congratulations.”

  His smile was making me stupid.

  “Um, thank you?” Why did that come out sounding like a question?

  “And your tribe here told me about the marksman, sorry I didn’t make it in time to see that. You should consider interviewing with us.” Okay, he was just being nice. “Anyway, I wanted to stop by and give you a little gift. I always wondered who would use these, and then when Callum told me you were graduating today, I realized that you would.” Eli held out a small box, and I took it. It was fairly heavy for the size.

  I tugged the bow free, lifted the lid, and smiled. Nestled inside were pink handcuffs. “Oh my god, these are fabulous.”

  “They’re approved, I checked and you’re allowed to use them.”

  “Really?” Without a moment’s hesitation, I unsnapped my plain old silver ones from my belt and hooked my pink ones on. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. I’m proud of you.” Eli winked and directed his gaze back down toward the box…hmm, okay, whatever. “I better get going, these hundred-plus-hour work weeks are killing me.”