Chapter Twenty-Five Benson
It’s strange how much can change in fourteen days.
The case against Ashford exploded the moment the task force released the indictments.
Every news outlet in the country has been running the story on a loop ever since—corruption, money laundering, conspiracy.
His face has been plastered everywhere, his reputation shredded in real time, and that alone is justice enough.
He’s still sitting in federal custody, awaiting formal charges, and every day, more witnesses have come forward, his empire crumbling piece by piece.
As for Salazar and his brother, their day is coming. A monster like that can’t be taken down easily. It takes a lot of planning and patience, but we already have the chess pieces in place. It’s only a matter of time before justice is served.
Karmen has been caught in the center of the fallout.
Her mother’s cooperation bought her some leniency, but the betrayal still cut deep.
I’ve watched Karmen navigate the wreckage of her family with a kind of quiet strength that humbles me.
Some days she’s steady, focused, and determined, and others…
I catch her staring off into nothing, grief and anger flickering beneath the surface.
She doesn’t always talk about it, but she doesn’t have to. I see it. I feel it.
She moved into the cabin with me after everything went down.
We’ve been staying here ever since to avoid the media and reporters camping outside both of our apartments.
And in the days since, something has shifted between us.
We’ve always had explosive chemistry. We’ve always had trust, but now there’s something new between us. Something deeper.
Something permanently rooted between us.
Forever.
And now, sitting across from Reid at my kitchen table, having flown in last night to tie up more loose ends on the case, I can’t help thinking that everything in my life has been completely rearranged—broken apart and rebuilt into something stronger.
Bigger.
“Have you decided if you’re going back yet?” he asks, taking a drink from his cup of coffee.
After reviewing all the evidence and clearing me of any charges, the department reinstated my position, but the thought of returning doesn’t feel right.
“I don’t know. Part of me wants to. I miss my guys, I miss some aspects of the job, but another part of me, a much larger part, feels like I should be doing more, you know?”
I exhale a long breath.
“But everything has changed, including me. I want to make more of a difference, and I want to work with people I can trust with my fucking life.”
Reid nods, clearing his throat. “I was hoping you’d say that because there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
I lean back, bracing myself. “What’s up?”
“I think it’s time to start the family business.”
Reid mimics my posture, studying me as he lets his words sink in. For a moment, I stare at back, his declaration hitting harder than I expected. My brothers and I have tossed the idea around for years—going independent, operating by our own rules, abiding by our own code.
“The last line of defense,” I say, steel in my voice.
“Just like we always talked about,” he smiles. “After everything that happened with you, we all agreed it’s time.”
I exhale slowly, excitement thrumming through my veins. “I’ll need to talk to Karmen, but you know I’ve been on board since day one.”
“Talk to me about what?” Karmen’s soft voice floats from the kitchen doorway.
Even wearing something as simple as blue jeans and a white fitted T-shirt, she takes my breath away. Her long hair is pulled back in a ponytail, glasses perched on her nose as she walks deeper into the kitchen.
I stand, pulling out a chair for her. “Sit. I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”
When I set the mug in front of her, she wraps her hands around it, takes a careful sip, and looks between us. “All right,” she says. “What were you two talking about?”
Reid and I explain everything—the years of planning, the vision, the mission. She listens without interruption, her keen eyes sharp as she absorbs every detail.
When we finish, the room goes quiet.
“Well?” I ask. “What do you think?”
Her lips curve into a slow, wicked smile. “I think it’s fucking brilliant.”
I knew she’d be all in.
“Good,” I say, feeling the hum of renewed energy shifting in the air. “Then let’s go take down our first target together.”
* * *
We’ve been watching the Salazar brothers for the last two weeks, waiting for them to make a move.
They’ve been careful and calculated, measuring each step meticulously to cover their tracks.
Still, our informant finally got the intel we needed, leading us to a warehouse located an hour from the city where they’ve been storing their shipments of drugs.
We’ve had eyes on it for a week now, following their movements.
I guess since the senator hasn’t ratted them out yet, the brothers felt safe enough to come stateside.
Huge mistake.
Adrenaline hums through my veins as we wait for Reid’s signal. Karmen flanks me, steady and focused, and I force myself to take a calming breath.
I trust her.
Fuck knows I trust her.
I know she can handle herself in dangerous situations.
Hell, I practically trained her myself, but the idea of her being anywhere near danger still twists something sharp deep inside me.
The possessive need to protect her and keep her safe is an instinct I’ll never be able to ignore.
But I will have to learn to manage it, especially if we are going to be working side by side.
We’ve gone over the plan a dozen times. She’s backup. No improvising. No unnecessary risks.
Reid signals.
We move.
Reid and Karmen cover me as we quietly slip through the side entrance of the warehouse. Asher and Sawyer will breach from the back once I give the all clear.
“Partying without us?” I call out, making my presence known, my gun trained on the man to the right.
Salazar turns, cold amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “We were just getting started.”
I collect several steps, gun raised, locking in on them. “It’s over.”
My brother Asher and Sawyer come in from behind, disarming them both before ordering them to their knees. I’m about to holster my weapon when a familiar voice stops me in my tracks.
“Oh, I don’t think so, Commander.”
When I spin around, the blood drains from my face, air freezing in my lungs.
Gregory Foster stands behind Karmen, forearm braced around her neck, the barrel of his police-issued Glock pressed against her temple.
Reid keeps his aim at the two men behind me, but I can feel the tension radiating off him as his gaze shifts between us.
“Lay the gun at your feet,” Greg instructs, and with a resigned sigh, she complies, putting the safety on before squatting and gently laying the gun at her booted foot.
Foster follows her every move, keeping a firm hold on her.
Standing upright, she holds up her hands in surrender, cold silver eyes stay trained on me, hard and unyielding.
Meanwhile, unbridled fear claws at my insides.
Foster drags her back a step, tightening his hold. I keep my aim locked on him, but there’s no clean shot. Not with her between us.
I grind my teeth, muscles tensing. I trusted this man. He was my friend. My mentor. I’ve known him most of my life, but I won’t hesitate to end him if he hurts her.
Think.
Keep him talking.
“Was it worth it?” I ask. “Throwing away your career? Your reputation? For what? Money?”
His eyes burn with something dark and twisted.
Hatred.
Not for her.
For me.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You cloned my fingerprints and helped Ashford get what he needed to blackmail Gainey and Parker. Did you kill them, too?”
He shrugs. “Those two were just collateral damage.”
Bile rises in my throat, and my hands twitch. I don’t just want to kill him. I want to make him bleed.
I rein in my temper, knowing it won’t serve me while he still has her in his grasp.
“Let her go,” I demand. “I’m the one you want.”
His laugh is maniacal as his hand shifts to wrap around her throat, and a surge of blinding fury rushes through me. Karmen shoots me a look—one I know all too well. The look she gives before she does something brilliant or fucking reckless.
Trust me.
Her eyes convey it without saying a word. Slowly, she carefully slips her hand into her pocket and pulls out the small device Reid gave her earlier as extra protection, and thank God, he did. The tiny dark gun holds two tranquilizers. Enough to drop his ass fast.
I keep talking, buying her more time. “Why? Why’d you do it?”
“Because I deserved that promotion,” he snarls. “I put in the hours. The work. And they just handed it to you. The fucking golden boy. The Cunningham legacy. I hate everything you stand for.”
He presses the gun harder against her temple, his rage palpable.
“And I’m going to enjoy taking something from you. Just like you and your shitty ass father took something from me.”
A familiar voice slices the tension in the air.
“Hard to steal something that never belonged to you.”
Neil Cunningham steps from the shadows, dressed in full tactical gear like the rest of our team. I blink several times, unsure if my eyes are playing tricks on me, but he moves deeper into the space.
“Greg, let her go,” he orders.
After a tense beat, Foster releases her—only to whirl around and aim his gun at my father.
Now they stand within arm’s length of each other, guns raised, both seconds from pulling the trigger.
“Tell them to lower their weapons,” Foster demands.
“Not a fucking chance,” I say, taking a step closer.
“Do it, Cunningham!” Foster shouts, “Your boys might take me out, but not before I put a bullet in your brain.”
“Reid, Benson, lower your weapons,” Dad orders.
There’s a long, silent standoff. It feels like an eternity before Reid gives me a look as he lowers his gun; his eyes convey a silent reminder that our newest recruit, Kaiden, a former government assassin, perched up in the rafters, a red dot centered on the back of Foster’s head.
I lower my gun a beat later, every muscle in my body coiled tight.
Foster’s grin widens in triumph, convinced he’s finally won control. He has no idea he’s already lost.
Karmen edges closer.
“Good,” Foster says, breath hitching. “Now we can have a real conversation.”
“You don’t want a conversation,” my father replies calmly. “You want revenge.”
Foster’s jaw ticks. “Damn right I do.”
She shifts another inch, fingers tightening on the dart device hidden against her thigh.
Dad keeps his voice steady. “Greg… this ends in one of two ways. And only one of them keeps you breathing.”
His unhinged laugh echoes throughout the warehouse. “You think I’m afraid to die? I have nothing to lose. He stole my job, and you stole the woman I love.”
Wait, what?
“We both know that’s not true.”
Foster’s finger hugs the trigger as a surge of fear claws at my chest.
“She was mine first,” Foster declares through gritted teeth.
“But she chose me.”
“I’ve had to stand by and watch you two for years, building the life I always wanted. The family I always dreamed of.”
“I loved you like a brother,” my dad says, pain etched in his voice.
Those words hit him hard, his grip faltering on the gun for half a second, giving Karmen the chance to move. It all happens so fast, Foster doesn’t even register what’s happening until the dart is buried in his neck. His eyes go wide as he drops his gun, hands flying up instinctively.
“What—what the fuck—”
He stumbles, knees buckling beneath him, and my father catches him, lowering him to the concrete floor. Reid rushes forward and secures his hands before the tranquilizer takes hold. Karmen stands unmoving, chest rising and falling. I close the space between us in three strides.
“You okay?” I ask as my heart lodges in my damn throat.
She nods once. “Told you to trust me.”
A relieved laugh breaks free. “You did.” I whip around as my father pushes to his feet. “What the hell was he talking about?”
He drags a hand over his face, the weight of it all settling over him.
“Greg and your mother dated during their senior year of high school. But he was too controlling and selfish. She finally ended it after graduation, and because he was my best friend, I tried to keep my distance from her, but we fell in love anyway.”
Tears gather in his eyes as his voice cracks.
“Greg and I lost touch after that. Then we ended up at the academy together. He’d moved on. Or so I thought. I had no idea he still harbored this much resentment toward me.”
“I’m so sorry, Dad.”
He nods.
Reid claps a hand on both of our shoulders, breaking the tension. “Well, Iron Eagle has completed its first mission,” he says proudly, and a surge of pride rises in withing me at the name we all voted on this morning. “Not bad.”
“This is just the beginning,” Asher says.
My father moves towards the exit, pulling his cell from his pocket. “Family dinner at our house next Sunday. Tell the others.”
We all exchange knowing smiles.
“Mom will love that,” I shout back at him.
“Yep, so you all better have your asses there.”