by Anna Blakely
He was going to kill this man. Luca was going to kill him…while she watched.
Abigail had almost made it to the ill-fated man when she felt the hard, cold barrel of a gun being pressed against the back of her skull. She froze in place.
“I don’t want to hurt you, sweet niece. But I will and not think twice about it.”
She could hear the unwavering truth behind his words.
“Get on your knees, Abigail.”
Wait. What?
The metal pushed harder against her head. “On. Your. Knees.”
He was going to kill her.
With no other choice, Abigail dropped slowly to her trembling knees. She was positioned directly in front of the other man. The one with whom she would die.
He stared back at her, resolve swimming in his watery, blue eyes. She was staring at a man who knew death was upon him, so she offered the only comfort she had to give.
“I-I don’t know what you did, but you didn’t deserve this.”
A soft chuckle. “Oh, he deserves it, Abigail.” She’d always hated the way her name sounded on his lips. Hated everything about the man.
Ignoring him, she kept her eyes on Mr. Shaeffer. “I’m sorry.” Her own tears fell. “So sorry.”
The man tipped his head slowly, as if to say thank you. Abigail was still looking into his eyes when Luca pulled the trigger. His body slumped forward, blood slowly spreading across the floor beneath his head.
Expecting to be lying next to him any second, she closed her eyes and waited for the bullet to hit. Her eyes were still closed when she felt her uncle pulling the gun away from her head.
“Your first is always the hardest, Abigail. Next time will be much easier.”
Next time?
She opened her eyes. Standing before her, Luca gave her an unapologetic shrug. Her gaze shifted up to her uncle’s, who surprised the hell out of her when he offered her his hand.
“Come now. You’re looking a little pale. We should get you home so you can rest.”
She looked at his hand as though it were a snake about to strike. Fitting, since that’s exactly what he was.
An evil, murdering snake.
Of her own volition, Abigail rose to her feet and stared straight into her uncle’s cold, uncaring eyes. “There’s nothing easy about killing another human being.”
Her uncle laughed. Laughed. “Oh, my sweet, naïve niece.” He reached a hand toward her, as if to pat the top of her head, but she flinched away quickly. His face hardened. “You’ll soon learn…taking the life of someone who deserves it? That’s one of the easiest things in the world to do.”
“I’ll never take a life. I don’t care what someone’s done. No one deserves to die. Not like this.”
“You should listen to your uncle, sweetheart.” Luca twisted the suppressor off the gun’s barrel and slid it into his pants pocket. “Sure, not everyone deserves to die the way Shaeffer did, but there are people out there who do.”
Later that night, while her uncle was sleeping like a baby, Abigail snuck into his office once more.
She’d found his hidden spot weeks ago. Knew the treasure it held. But that wasn’t why she’d gone there this time.
Having witnessed the atrocity Tony and Luca had committed, Abigail was more determined than ever to make sure they paid for what they’d done.
She’d seen enough movies, knew there had to be something in this room that would prove what a monster these men were.
Local authorities would be a waste of time, since she’d witnessed half the force come in and out of her uncle’s home. Tony claimed they were here on a social visit, but she knew better.
If she did find something, she’d definitely have to take it to a higher level, like the FBI.
Abigail had just reached her uncle’s desk when a deep voice suddenly filled the quiet room.
“Well, well. Didn’t expect you to be here.”
On instinct, she grabbed a sharp, silver letter opener off the desk and spun around.
“Easy there, killer.” Luca grinned. “You’re gonna hurt somebody with that thing, if you’re not careful.”
“W-what are you doing here?”
He slowly began closing the distance between them. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“Stay away from me.” Abigail held the letter opener in front of her for protection.
“Or, what? I seem to recall you saying you’d never take someone’s life.” He came closer. “That no one deserved to die.”
Could she do it? Could she stab this man if he tried to hurt her?
Abigail’s hand shook as she tried to think of a definitive answer.
“You know, Abby. I believed what you said to Tony in that garage this morning.”
“W-which part?”
He was almost to her, the smell of sickly-sweet bourbon thickening the air in front of her.
“That you’re not like him or your father.”
“Don’t talk about my dad.” Her fist tightened around the makeshift weapon. “You know nothing about him.”
“You’re wrong.” Luca stood directly in front of her now. “I knew your father quite well. And your mother. You’re a lot like her you, you know? Strong willed. Beautiful.”
He reached up as if to brush some hair from her face, but Abigail flinched away.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Oh, come on.” His fingers trailed the side of her turned jaw. “You’re not that much younger than I am. I’ve seen the way you watch me when I’m around.”
“I watch you because I don’t trust you, asshole.”
His dark eyes hardened. “Don’t be a bitch, Abigail.” Luca’s fingers dropped lower, brushing across her neck and along the collar of her tank top. “It doesn’t suit you.”
Her heart felt like it would explode. She had to get out of here. She had to get away from this sick, perverted murderer.
“If you touch me again, I’ll scream.”
“Is that so?” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, the same one attached to the hand holding the letter opener. Luca pressed his body against hers. “You think your uncle will come to your rescue? He won’t do anything to me. I’m too valuable to him and his…business.”
“I’m his niece.”
“He put a gun to your head this morning, sweetheart. You really think he gives two shits about you?” Luca lowered his free hand, his fingertips tracing the swell of her breast.
Abigail’s breathing became ragged, her mind racing to think of a way out of this situation. She was still thinking when Luca lowered his mouth to her neck.
“Mmm.” His hot, wet tongue licked her skin there. “You taste even better than I imagined.”
She wanted to throw up. No, what she wanted was to get as far away from the bastard as she could.
Abigail glanced over at the letter opener still fisted in her hand. It was useless unless she figured out a way to get free from his grasp.
Luca pressed his hips against hers, the bulge between his legs impossible to miss. It was long and hard, and it made her stomach churn.
It also gave her an idea.
“You really want me, Luca?” She tried to make her voice sound all low and sexy.
“Hell yes, I want you.”
Praying this crazy plan didn’t backfire, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Okay.”
He froze a half a second before pulling away to look up at her.
“Really?”
It was exactly what she’d hoped for.
“Really. Only, there’s something I need to give you first.”
His dark brows tilted inward. “What’s that?”
Abigail smiled. “This.”
As hard as she could, she rammed her knee up against his crotch, nailing her target with perfection.
The seemingly unshakable man cried out, releasing her wrist to grab himself. He bent at the waist but didn’t go down completely.
Knowing what would happen the second he re
covered, Abigail didn’t waste time thinking. She simply acted.
Out of anger or fear, she wasn’t sure. Either way, in that very next moment, she felt herself jabbing the pointed edge of that letter opener into the middle of Luca’s left thigh.
“Ah!” he cried out again. “You fucking bitch!”
Thanks to a movie she’d once seen, Abigail knew in order to deliver maximum damage, she needed to twist the weapon sideways. Wanting to make sure he knew never to come near her again, she did just that.
Luca screamed and fell, his blood pouring from the wound as the momentum of his fall pulled his leg free from the makeshift knife.
She looked down at the man writhing in pain. He rocked back and forth as he squeezed the wound with both hands.
Her gaze fell onto her own hand. The one still holding the letter opener. Her fingers were covered in Luca’s blood, but she wasn’t as horrified as she would have expected.
In fact, Abigail felt satisfied, as though her actions had been totally justified.
Setting the bloody opener back onto her uncle’s desk, she calmly stepped around Luca and went to go find her uncle. Despite what Luca had told her, she believed her uncle would be proud of what she’d done.
He’d take care of Luca, of course, but then he’d do exactly as she needed him to. He’d start trusting her more. Believe she had taken what he’d said earlier that day to heart. That she had accepted that this was the type of thing her family did.
That this was who she was.
As she made her way up the stairs, the sound of Luca’s screams for her to come back and help traveled down the elaborate hallway. In that moment, Abigail realized one thing her uncle had said was true.
Some people did deserve to die.
1
Present day…
“Tell me what has you so scared.”
McKenna Kelley made herself meet Sean “Coop” Cooper’s piercing stare. He was her teammate. Her partner. Her friend.
He was also the only man to ever make her want more.
“I…I can’t.” Had her voice quivered?
His hazel eyes, which had the power to shatter her, narrowed to a set of thin slits. “Can’t or won’t?”
Oh yeah. He’s pissed.
She started to bite her bottom lip nervously but forced herself to release it. She was usually good at keeping a lid on her emotions. But lately, she found herself slipping around him.
Only him.
Coop sighed. “Come on, Mac. You’re supposed to lean on your partner.”
“He’s right.”
Standing off to the side, Trevor Matthews—the team’s medic and SIC, or second in charge—spoke up. He was one of three people who knew the truth, and shit.
She’d almost forgotten he was still standing there.
Coop’s focus slid to the other man. Mac held her breath, praying Trevor wouldn’t tell Coop her secrets. He’d promised…
Trevor nodded Coop’s way before his gaze locked with hers. “Told you before, the story is yours to share. Tell him or don’t. Up to you.” With a shrug, his handsome face softened. “Just remember…you’re not alone in this.”
Trevor went back into the house, leaving her and Coop alone on their boss’s porch. Silently Mac released the breath she’d been holding.
“That sure as hell didn’t make me feel any better.” Coop shoved his hands into his pockets and leveled another unnerving stare her way.
“I trust you with my life, Sean.” Truth. “I always have. You have to know that.”
“So trust me with it now,” he implored.
Mac hesitated, knowing her next words were going to hurt him. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Blinking at the shocking statement, Coop took a half-step back. “Leaving? Where are you—”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Goddamn it, Mac.”
His strong jaw tightened with anger. Even pissed, the man was hot as hell.
“You said you trusted me.”
“You’re right.” She nodded. God, this was hard. Inhaling deeply, she forced herself to meet his stare. “I could tell you. But I won’t.”
Pain etched across his sharp features. “Why the hell not?”
“Because it isn’t safe.”
Concern immediately replaced his anger. “For you?”
Mac shook her head sadly. “For you.”
It was pretty much a suicide mission for her. She’d accepted that. What Mac wouldn’t accept—or allow—was for this man to be stuck in those same crosshairs with her.
Coop ran a hand through his short, brown hair. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain that one.”
Turning her back on him, Mac walked over to the edge of the porch and leaned on the wooden railing. She looked out at Jake and Olivia’s snow-covered lawn.
It was cold outside, but she didn’t feel it. She didn’t feel much of anything anymore. Guilt could do that to a person.
“I’m working a solo op.” Partial truth.
“The fuck you are,” Coop growled as he stormed toward her. “R.I.S.C. doesn’t do solo ops. Not dangerous ones, anyway.”
R.I.S.C., which stood for Rescue, Intel, Security, and Capture, was the private black-ops security firm she and Coop worked for. They took on jobs in the private sector, but also worked off-the-books ops for Homeland Security.
When Mac opened her mouth to argue the validity of his statement, Coop instantly shut her down.
“I’m talking about more than the occasional solo bodyguard gig, and you know it. Whatever this job is, it has you scared to death. And don’t bother trying to deny it, because I can see it in your eyes.”
She wouldn’t deny it, because it wasn’t only in her eyes. The fear Mac felt weighed heavily on her shoulders.
“You’re right.” She looked back up at him. “I am scared.”
She didn’t want to go back. Had worked so hard to get away from that part of her life. To convince herself it wasn’t real.
Some things are impossible to forget.
Coop studied her a moment, his assessing glance seeing too much. It wasn’t until he took her shoulders between his hands that she even realized—
“Jesus, Mac. You’re shaking like a leaf.” Fear matching her own began to seep into his eyes. “Talk to me, McKenna. Please.”
She hated when he touched her. But only because it made her feel too much. Too safe.
Mac knew better than most that safety was nothing more than an illusion.
His strong grip was oddly gentle, and the way his eyes begged her to let him in made her want to tell him everything. She gave him what little she could.
“This job”—she licked her dry lips—“it has a personal connection. One from my past.”
“Okay.” Coop nodded. “Whatever it is, I can help.”
“You can’t.”
“You have to let me go with you,” he persisted.
Her heart ached. “It’s not about getting permission, Sean.”
“Then let me go with you.”
The desperation in his voice tore through her. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” he growled, his jaw clenching.
“Because I care too much about you!” she blurted before she could stop herself.
Coop blinked, her startling admission taking him off guard. “I care about you, too, Mac.” His deep voice rumbled. The colors in his eyes darkened. “A lot.”
Warmth spread through her. Filled her with a deep, aching want for something she knew could never be.
“I know you do.” Mac squeezed his arm. “Our friendship means more to me than you’ll ever know. It’s one of the biggest reasons I have to do this alone.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“I know.” She smiled up at him sadly. “I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t run the risk that you’ll get hurt. Not because of me and my fucked-up past.”
Then Mac did something she’d never done with Coop. She rose onto her tiptoes
and kissed him gently on the cheek. His barely-there stubble tickled the soft skin of her lips.
Ignoring his alluring, masculine scent, she pulled back to look him in the eye. “Take care of yourself, Sean. And…thank you.”
He frowned. “For what?”
“For being the best partner a girl could ever have.”
Before she did something stupid like break down in front of him, Mac pulled the keys to her Jeep Rubicon from her pocket and turned to walk down the porch steps.
Coop shouted her name, ordering her to come back. She ignored his pleas and kept going.
A minute later, she was pulling out of her boss’s driveway, leaving behind the person who mattered most to her in this world.
Tears filled her eyes, and this time, she let them fall. The pain she’d seen on Coop’s face had gutted her to the point she’d almost given in to his demands. Had come so close to spilling every single one of her secrets.
So she’d left.
For seven years, they’d been partners. Snipers working side-by-side on one of the country’s most elite security teams in the business.
Both former Army Rangers, she and Coop had formed an immediate bond. One she used to think was unbreakable.
Except you just broke it.
She’d left him there. Standing alone on their boss’s front porch. Believing she didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth.
Trusting Coop with her life was never an issue. But what he didn’t know, what she prayed he never realized, was that he never, ever should have trusted her.
Hours later—after a good cry and a long, hot shower—Mac’s bags were packed and waiting by her apartment’s front door, including a brightly flowered sundress she’d picked specifically for the special occasion.
Tucked away next to it? Her fully loaded Glock 19.
Now she was ready to confront the ghosts from her past. Ready to put an end to a decades-long reign of terror brought forth by her own family.
She wasn’t, however, quite ready for bed.
Knowing she’d only toss and turn if she tried, Mac made her way into the kitchen. A cup of hot, herbal tea always helped her sleep, and tonight, she had a feeling she’d need all the help she could get.
