Chapter 2
Coop
Every eye swung around toward me.
My fingers itched to pull the trigger. To drop Snake where he stood before he could hurt her. To paint the barn walls with Diesel’s blood. To become the killer they already thought I was.
I’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant keeping Mia alive.
Six years, I’d stayed away, convinced myself she was better off without me. Now she was here, trembling against Diesel’s grip with Snake’s SIG aimed at her chest, and every sacrifice I’d made meant nothing.
I couldn’t watch her die. Not Mia. Not the woman who used to trace my scars in the dark and tell me I was worth saving.
Even if it meant burning my cover, destroying six weeks of groundwork, failing the mission that would take down this entire militia operation and stop military-grade weapons from reaching terrorist hands—none of it mattered if that gun fired.
But there was another way. A way that fucking sucked, but one that might keep her breathing.
The idea formed like poison spreading through my veins. These men respected only one thing more than violence: ownership. If Mia was mine, if I claimed her, she’d become property instead of a problem. It made me sick to my core, but sick was better than dead.
It was three hours back to the compound where we’d been waiting for contact from the militia leader, Julian Oliver, for the past two weeks. Oliver wouldn’t contact us until tomorrow at the earliest about the barn, which meant we’d have dead time.
But I needed to get her out before Oliver saw her. The man was notorious with his thing for blondes, and Mia… Christ, even terrified and disheveled, she was beautiful. If he saw her, my options would shrink to nothing.
No need to worry about Oliver until I got her out of the current crisis. I turned my attention back to the three men staring at me.
“I want her.” I kept my voice casual, tilting my head.
“The fuck you mean, you want her?” Diesel’s scarred face twisted. “Since when do you keep witnesses breathing, Coop?”
Time to sell it. Time to save her life by destroying whatever was left of Ryan Cooper’s soul.
I let my eyes travel over Mia, slow and deliberate, cataloging her like merchandise. Starting at her shoes, up those long legs, lingering at her hips, her breasts, finally meeting her eyes with cold appraisal that made my stomach turn. She shrank back toward the door.
“Since they look like that.” I shifted my weight, letting my undercover persona slide fully into place like armor made of sleaze and violence. Thumbs hooked in my belt, casual arrogance in every line. “Been out here six weeks with you ugly bastards. Man’s got needs.”
“Hah!” Diesel barked. “Coop wants to wet his wick.”
I moved toward Mia with predator’s confidence, each step measured, eating up distance while giving her nowhere to run.
She backed up until her shoulders hit the door.
She was trying to reconcile the man approaching with the Ryan she’d known—the one who’d held her through her father’s death, who’d learned her grandmother’s soup recipe, who’d promised forever then vanished like smoke.
That Ryan was dead. Had to be, if Mia was going to live.
I wrapped my hand around her upper arm and yanked her against me hard. Her camera clattered to the floor, lens cap rolling away into shadows. She came up against my chest with enough force to drive the breath from her lungs.
“She’s not a witness if she’s mine.”
She trembled against me, every shake transmitting through where our bodies touched. Her scent—vanilla and jasmine and fear-sweat—filled my lungs. The familiar smell threatened to break through Coop’s armor, but I held the persona tight.
“Oliver won’t like loose ends,” Tommy ventured, his voice cracking slightly. Kid was trying to sound tough, but his inexperience showed in every word. “He’s real particular about operational security.”
“Oliver’ll just have to deal with it, boy.
” I kept my voice bored, arrogant. “He needs someone who knows the difference between military-grade hardware and the knock-off shit dealers try to pass off. That’s why he’s brought me in, isn’t it?
For my expertise. He wants that, he’s going to let me have some… perks.”
Snake still hadn’t moved his hand from his weapon. Those reptilian eyes dissected every move I made.
I slid my other hand up to Mia’s throat, thumb against her pulse point. Not enough to hurt, but it would look convincing from their position. Possessive. Controlling.
Her breath hitched—fear or recognition of a gesture that had meant something very different years ago. Those eyes searched my face for the man she’d known. For mercy. For hope.
I gave her nothing but cold blue steel. Killer’s eyes.
“Besides,” I said, letting my thumb stroke along her throat, feeling her swallow hard. “She tries to run, I’ll kill her myself. Won’t I, sweetheart?”
“Please.” Barely a whisper, threaded with tears she was fighting.
Diesel laughed. “Coop’s got himself a pet. Ain’t that sweet.”
“She screams, she dies.” Snake’s voice was flat as roadkill.
“Oh, she’ll scream.” I put enough suggestion into it to make Tommy shift and Diesel grin. “But not the kind that brings trouble.”
I bent to her ear, whispering where only she could hear, lips barely moving: “Car. Now. Don’t fight me.”
Then louder, letting my breath fan against her neck, I said, “You’re going to be real good for me, aren’t you, baby?”
I pushed her out the door, grip bruising-tight on her arm. Had to look rough. The marks would bloom purple by morning, and the thought sickened me.
Her camera lay on the floor—probably five grand worth of equipment. The kind she’d dreamed about when we were together.
I reached down and grabbed it, tossing it to Tommy. “Destroy that.”
“But it’s probably worth—”
“Break the fucking thing, Tommy.” Snake’s voice cut through like a blade. “Coop said destroy it.”
Tommy brought it down hard against a support post. The lens shattered, plastic and glass scattering. The body split open, exposing electronic guts. Memory card ejected into shadows.
Mia made a small sound. That camera was probably her livelihood. Her art. Gone.
But at least she wasn’t fighting me.
We moved toward the vehicle. I kept my hand on her arm, guiding more than controlling, though it wouldn’t look that way to the others. She stumbled once on the uneven ground. I caught her, steadied her, kept her moving.
“In.” I opened the rear passenger door of the SUV, practically shoving her inside. She scrambled across the bench seat to the far side, pressing against the door like she could disappear through it.
Diesel leaned against my door before I could get in. This close, the stench of cigarettes and sour sweat was overwhelming. “Better be worth the trouble, Coop. Oliver don’t like complications.”
“She will be.” I met his eyes steadily. “One way or another.”
“One way or another,” Diesel repeated, laughing as he headed for the driver’s door. “I like that. Maybe when you’re done, you’ll share. I ain’t picky about seconds.”
The words hit like acid on exposed nerves, but I made myself grin. “We’ll see how well-behaved she is first.”
I climbed into the middle of the back seat, positioning myself between Mia and Tommy, who was taking the other window seat. Snake rode shotgun while Diesel drove. The arrangement was deliberate—I could control who had access to her, could shield her with my body if needed.
The engine rumbled to life, and we pulled away from the barn. Three hours to figure out how to keep her alive once we reached the compound.
Tommy kept stealing glances at her around me, his youth making him obvious. “She’s real pretty, Coop. Never seen anyone look that good out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Sometimes fate just delivers.” I kept my tone casual while my thigh pressed against Mia’s, trying to offer comfort through contact. She shied away. I couldn’t blame her.
“Fate.” Snake’s voice carried enough skepticism to fill the vehicle. “That what we’re calling it?”
“What would you call it?”
“Suspicious as hell.” He shifted to look back at us, examining Mia like she was a puzzle to solve. “Real estate photographer just happens to show up at the exact barn we’re scouting?”
“You think I set this up? Brought her here? For what possible fucking reason?”
“Could be lots of reasons.” Snake’s hand shifted on his weapon. “Maybe you’re getting soft. Maybe you knew her from before.”
I laughed, harsh and ugly. “Jesus, Snake. You really think I’d compromise the best gig we’ve had in years for pussy? You think I’m that stupid?”
Mia flinched at the word, shrinking smaller against the door.
“I think everybody’s got pressure points,” Snake said carefully.
“My only weakness is that I haven’t gotten laid in nearly two months.” I grabbed Mia’s wrist, yanking her against my side. She came reluctantly, her body rigid with fear. “But that problem’s solved now.”
“Still seems convenient,” Snake muttered, but he turned back around.
Diesel laughed from the driver’s seat. “Snake thinks everything’s a conspiracy. Remember when he thought that waitress in Billings was FBI?”
“She was asking too many questions.”
“She was trying to get your order right, you paranoid bastard.”
Tommy leaned forward again. “So what’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Don’t talk to her,” I snapped. “She talks to me or not at all.”
Tommy squeaked out a laugh. “Jesus, possessive much?”
“That’s right.” I tightened my grip on Mia’s wrist. “She’s mine. Not community property until I say so. Anyone has a problem with that, we can discuss it when we get back.”
“Nobody’s got a problem,” Diesel said, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Long as you remember the rules. She causes trouble, it’s on you.”
“I know the fucking rules, Diesel.”
“Just making sure.” He lit another cigarette, filling the car with smoke. “Oliver’s got that big meeting coming up. Last thing we need is complications.”