Chapter Two
Sniper
“I still don’t like the idea of you sleeping with my sister, but she’s domesticated you so that’s a plus.” I accepted the cold beer Gio handed me and cracked it open. After a long day dealing with idiots at the gun range, I needed at least three more beers before I could actually relax.
Gio flashed that charming smile he wore as often as he wore his vest and dropped down onto the wooden bench beside me. “I love Harper more than I thought I could love any woman, but not even she can domesticate me.”
“Bullshit. You willingly attended a dinner party.”
He rolled his eyes, but a laugh escaped anyway. “They brought good booze, and Harper was so happy I came and was on my best behavior that she rewarded me. Handsomely.”
I held up a hand and stopped whatever he was about to say next. “I will kill you, brother or not.”
Gio tossed his head back and laughed. “You know that shit is never gonna get old, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “As long as she’s smiling and I don’t have to hear the details, I can deal with it.” I’d known Gio damn near my whole life and he was like a brother to me even before he hooked up with my sister. He was loyal as fuck and had eyes only for Harper, I’d take the teasing forever if I had to. Harper wanted all that love and marriage bullshit, so I wanted it for her even if I didn’t believe in it for myself.
“What about you, seeing anybody worth talking about?”
That was an easy answer. “Ain’t seein’ nobody, period.” I didn’t have the time or the energy for a woman. Casual sex wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it used to be, probably too many ships passing in the night arrangements when I was in the Army, and I didn’t do commitment.
“Harper has a new assistant,” he offered with a hopeful grin.
“No thanks.” I didn’t shit where I ate because I didn’t do drama and women were nothing but drama.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and took a long pull from my beer. “Positive.” Thankfully, my phone buzzed in my pocket, saving me from this conversation and my matchmaking brother. The number that flashed on the screen was familiar and I managed a grin. “Watchdog, hey.”
His laughter was deep and slightly rusty as if he hadn’t laughed since I last saw him after we both left the military. “Nobody’s called me that in a long time.”
“That mean you don’t still notice everything around you?”
“I do, yeah. But these days most people call me Cal or Sergeant Blake.”
“You do love those titles, don’t you?” They hadn’t meant much to me back then, other than a salary bump. I got a mission, did what needed doing, and moved on. Cal though? He could’ve made a career out of it.
“Not as much these days. They mean to me what they’ve always meant to you. Money. Security.”
That was unexpected. “So being a cop isn’t all you thought it would be?”
“It means my hands are always fucking tied, which brings me to why I’m calling you.”
I knew there was a reason. Cal and I went way back but he was a straight arrow, and I knew all arrows eventually bent. “Need me to get my hands dirty for you?”
“Not exactly.” He fell silent. “Listen Sniper, I do need a favor. A big one.”
Sniper. That had been my name in the military even though I wasn’t a sniper. A sharpshooter, sure but never technically a sniper. They said I was a brutally efficient killer, which wasn’t the compliment they thought it was. “I’m listening.” Whatever it was, I knew I’d do it because I hated owing people shit and I owed Watchdog something you couldn’t ever pay back. My life.
“It’s Katey. Remember my kid sister?”
I nodded. I had met her only once, but he talked about her a lot when we served together. “Yeah, the ER doc, right?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “She’s been on the run for more than a year from her crazy as fuck ex who refuses to accept the breakup.” He sounded angry and exhausted.
“I’m guessing the cops have been less than helpful?”
He snorted. “You could say that. What the fuck can you do about an asshole who doesn’t care about a protection order?”
“Shit, that’s what. Violent?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “He found her at the last place she lived and started beating on her. Her landlady held him off with a shotgun giving her a chance to run—by all accounts the old biddy was ready to shoot him in the balls, but the bastard managed to get away before the police arrived. The time before that when he found her, he held her at gunpoint in front of a preacher.” Cal sounded distraught. Back in the Army he was our team leader, I never once saw him lose his cool in a crisis, but now he sounded wrung out. “He’s beat her every time he catches up with her. I’m worried because he’s escalating, and she’s not safe. Not alone.”
“Shit.” This was even worse than I imagined.
“Yeah, exactly. He won’t stop until she’s his or dead, and I don’t think he cares which at this point.”
My head hung forward. I’d never heard Watchdog sound so worried, not even when we were pinned down and outnumbered by the enemy, he always kept his fucking cool. Still, I had to be sure. “You trust me to help you with this?”
“Look Sniper, I don’t agree with the path you’ve taken, but I trust you. Always.” His sigh was half an agonized groan. “He’s a former biker and I figured that he might respect you more than the law.”
“What MC?”
“Crimson Cobras. Formed in Miami, but they now have chapters all over the country. He was expelled because his brain is so fucked it was bad for business.”
I let out a low whistle, for an outlaw club to patch out a member had to mean they were a fucking liability. “I’ll keep her safe, Watchdog. I promise.”
“I know you will, but she needs more than protection, Cole.”
Shit. I sat up taller and braced my feet into the ground. “Whatever you need.” I owed him my life, it was as simple as that.
“Thanks, man. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“I do.” He’d lost his father to a life sentence when he was a teenager, and his mother died while we were deployed overseas. “I’ll meet you in an hour.” I needed to talk to Diesel and Rocky, let them know what was happening.
“Where?”
“You know Skid Row?” It was an MC-owned bar where we could talk without worrying about who might overhear.
“Yeah. See you in an hour.”