ALESSIO #2
She doesn't back down. If anything, her eyes darken with heat. Good. Because I'm nowhere near done with her tonight.
Beccs finishes clearing the last weapon with careful, practiced movements, placing everything back exactly as she found it. Professional. Precise. She's deliberately avoiding my eyes.
I step closer, keeping a teasing tone, but edged in it is genuine curiosity.
"You've been holding out on me, babe. So tell me, I’m curious.
You're a mechanic, a sharpshooter, you can serve drinks with the best of them, plus you're one hell of a detective.
That's quite an eclectic combination of skills. Where did you get them from?"
I'm really fucking curious. God, I want to know everything about this woman. Every scar. Every story. Every reason she became this fierce, sharp-tongued force of nature. I want it all.
She evades me smoothly, checking the guns one last time like it's the most important task in the world. "Did I pass? Can we go now?"
She's hiding something. I can feel it in the way she won't quite meet my eyes. And I want to know what it is. Badly. I'm about to push harder when my phone vibrates. Rossi.
"They're here," I inform her, reading the text. But this is not over. Not by a long shot.
I step in close, crowding her space, and tilt her chin up with two fingers so she has to look at me.
"We're not done with this conversation, Beccs," I murmur, voice dark with promise. "I want to know every piece of you. And I always get what I want."
Her eyes flash with that familiar mix of defiance and heat. She doesn't pull away. I take her hand and lead her out of the range, already planning how I'm going to get the truth out of her later.
One way or another.
The back of the armored SUV is quiet except for the low hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of Rossi's voice over comms. We're in the second vehicle, a convoy of five black SUVs and a large van trailing behind for the women. Twenty of my best men are spread out, ready.
I turn to Beccs beside me, keeping my hand resting possessively on her thigh. "Ground rules," I state seriously. "You stay right next to me the entire time. If I say get in the car, you move your precious ass without argument. No heroics. No wandering off. Got it?"
She rolls her eyes but nods. "Yeah, I got it."
I don't fully trust her to listen, but it's good enough for now. I squeeze her thigh once, a silent reminder that she's mine to protect.
Rossi's voice comes through the comms, "Warehouse layout sent. Two main entrances. Guards at the front, light security on the perimeter. Girls are being held in the back loading bay."
I study the blueprint on my phone, memorizing every detail. "We hit hard and fast. Non-lethal where possible on the girls' side. Rossi, you take the east entrance. I've got the west."
"Copy."
The convoy slows as we approach the isolated warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The building is nondescript, surrounded by a chain-link fence and shadows. Perfect for moving people no one wants found.
It's almost ironic, a capo like me, nervous about running out in the middle of the night to rescue a bunch of trafficked women.
The mission itself doesn't bother me. I've spilled blood for far less.
What bothers me is the knot in my chest every time I glance at the passenger seat and find Beccs there, checking her weapon with steady hands, ready to throw herself into danger for people she doesn't even know..
How the hell did she talk me into this, and what is she going to make me do next?
I squeeze her thigh one more time, reminding her, "Stay close to me."
She nods, but there's a spark in her eyes that says she'll do what she thinks is right, not necessarily what I tell her.
I sigh internally. This woman is going to be the death of me.
But as we roll up to the fence line and my men start moving into position, I realize something: I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Any chance you'll stay in here?" I try one more time before exiting the SUV, gun in my hand.
She shakes her head, her own pistol ready. She looks focused. Lethal. Beautiful.
We move in, fast and silent. My men fan out, taking down perimeter guards with suppressed shots and quick hand-to-hand. Beccs stays glued to my side like I demanded, covering my left flank.
Usually I'd be right at the head of the operation, but with her by my side, I'm staying back, letting Rossi take the lead.
We breach the west entrance. Shouts erupt inside.
Gunfire cracks through the warehouse. I keep Beccs behind me as much as possible, shielding her from return fire while taking down two cartel guys who come around a corner.
"Clear!" one of my men shouts.
We push forward into the loading bay. The sight hits hard: fifteen young women, terrified, chained, and huddled together. Some are barely conscious. The rage that surges through me is ice-cold.
"Secure the girls," I order. "Get them to the van. Gently."
Beccs is moving quickly, helping one of the younger ones who's crying. She's surprisingly gentle, murmuring soft reassurances while keeping her gun ready. She holds her own perfectly, covering angles, helping load the girls, staying out of the worst of the crossfire when more guards rush in.
I take down three more men who try to flank us, then yank Beccs behind a stack of crates when bullets ricochet too close.
"Stay down," I growl, covering her with my body as I return fire.
To my surprise, she does as she's told, breathing fast but steady. No panic. Just determination. Within minutes, the warehouse is secured. My men are herding the last of the girls into the van. No casualties on our side. A few wounded cartel guys we'll deal with later.
I pull Beccs against me as we move toward the SUVs, my arm locked around her waist.
"You did good," I murmur against her hair, relief and pride mixing in my chest. "But next time, you stay behind me."
She huffs but leans into me for a second. "We'll see."
I kiss the top of her head, already planning how I'm going to keep her safe from here on out. Because this—protecting her, fighting beside her—feels right in a way nothing else ever has.
Of course, she declines to ride in the SUV with me and insists on driving with the girls in the van. I should have seen that coming. But I don't stop her.