by Shayla Black
April 7, 2020!
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He’s dangerous. She’s his—even if he scares her. But once he unravels her secrets, he’ll do whatever it takes to claim her for good.
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Sniper Pierce “One-Mile” Walker nearly had everything he ever wanted—until a fateful mission stripped it all away. Now an outcast, he’s forced to watch the off-limits beauty who stole his heart slip through his fingers. Left with nothing but revenge, he’s determined to defeat evil and win her back. But when he learns she’s planning a future without him, he vows he’ll break every rule and defy all odds to make her his again—forever.
* * *
Brea Bell was always a good girl…until Pierce Walker. Despite everyone’s warnings, she gave the rough warrior her body—and her heart. When she receives news that shatters her world, he devastates her by walking away. Terrified of losing all she’s ever known, Brea tucks away her dreams and commits to a “safe” future. Then Pierce appears in the dead of night, challenging and seducing her. Brea isn’t sure she can trust him…but she also can’t say no.
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Angry and betrayed, he leaves to pursue vengeance, while her sins are exposed to the world, forcing her to fight painful battles. Can Brea and Pierce conquer the dangers that threaten their happily ever after…or will fate wrench them apart forever?
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Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
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Thursday, October 23
Louisiana
Standing naked and numb, in the middle of the empty dining room, Brea Bell blinked. What had just happened?
She felt flattened. Her world had been shaken, turned inside out, upended every which way.
Pierce Walker did that to her.
While her body had still been glowing from the pleasure he’d heaped on her, everything had begun falling apart.
Now he was gone.
The second he had answered the unexpected ring of his phone, her lover had been replaced by pure warrior. Within minutes, he’d dressed, grabbed his bag, and disappeared on a dangerous mission to tangle with the drug lord who had nearly killed him mere weeks ago.
He’d left her terrified for his safety—and burning with so many questions.
She’d known he made his living as a sniper but killed bad guys and terrorists while keeping his fellow operatives safe. At least that’s what she’d told herself.
I’m glad my father is gone. I hated him. It’s why I killed him.
Until Pierce had uttered those words, she would never have thought him capable of murdering his father in cold blood. How could anyone kill their own flesh and blood? Brea couldn’t fathom it, but Pierce had.
And he’d expressed no remorse.
Say you’ll move in with me.
His soft, shocking demand just before he’d slipped out the door still rang in her ears. How did Pierce think she could do that without imploding her entire life? And how could she commit to any sort of future with him when she didn’t know whether to believe he was the steadfast protector she’d come to know…or concede she’d fallen for a bad-boy fantasy who was good with his body?
Brea couldn’t stay here. She needed to go home. She had to think.
Trembling, she dressed, then defaulted to familiar domestic tasks that calmed her mind. Soon, she’d silenced the music, boxed and stored their food in the refrigerator, and cleared the table. She also made Pierce’s bed, trying not to remember just how good it had felt to be underneath him on these very sheets.
Some headstrong part of her wanted to linger, as if the secret to understanding him hid under his roof and she could absorb his truths if she simply remained. But that was her hopeful heart talking.
She had to start using her head.
As she retrieved her purse from the floor, she tucked the half-spilled contents back inside, then glanced at her phone. It was nearly midnight, and her father had texted to ask when she was coming home two hours ago.
On my way.
As soon as her reply was delivered, she darkened the device. Tears threatened to fall, but she stifled them. Once she was in her room, where no one would disturb her, she could start unpacking everything alone.
Brea flipped off lights all over Pierce’s house and contemplated leaving his key on the table. But that would be a cowardly way to end their…whatever this was. She owed it to them both to hear his story. Then she’d decide if giving in to her heart and including him in her future were in her best interest.
How ironic. She’d knocked on Pierce’s door a few hours ago, hoping they had a chance at a new beginning together. After tonight, she wasn’t sure there’d be any coming back.
The silence as she headed back to Sunset through the inky night felt heavy. The old her would have called Cutter and asked for his advice. But she already knew what he’d say. She didn’t want any opinions now except her own.
When she pulled into her driveway, the house looked dark, except for the light Daddy kept on above the stove whenever she was late. Bless him…
Her fingers fumbled as she unlocked the door. She dead-bolted it behind her, then dashed to her room. In the dark, she dropped her purse on the desk to her left and shut herself inside before she fell across her bed and let her thoughts run free.
Who was this man, deep down, she’d given herself to? What had she done?
She’d fallen in love. She’d let herself believe she and Pierce could forge something lasting, despite their chasm of differences.
She might have made a colossal mistake.
Brea grasped now why people called it heartache. Hers bled with wrenching uncertainty and pain. Sobs followed.
Behind her, the lamp on her nightstand suddenly flicked on.
She sat up with a gasp. Her father stood not two feet away, watching her with a disappointed stare.
“Brea.” He never yelled. He never had to. His ability to emote, which made him so good behind the pulpit, also made him an amazingly effective parent.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Daddy, what are you doing up? Do you need something?”
With a heavy sigh, he sat beside her and took her hand. “Just to talk to you. You’ve been the best daughter a man could have asked for, and I know you’re a grown woman...”
Brea heard the “but” in his voice. Since she was a pleaser, the worst possible punishment had always been enduring her father’s disapproval. “Daddy…”
“Let me finish. I know where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.” He frowned.
He’d found out about Pierce? Figured out they’d had sex?
Her heart stopped. “I can explain.”
But what could she say to reassure him that wouldn’t be a lie?
“You may think I’m naive or out of touch, and I realize almost no one saves themselves for marriage anymore.”
She knew where this was going, and it wasn’t fair. “Then why are you lecturing me? You’re not waiting. I know about you and Jennifer Collins.”
“I never said I was perfect. But there’s a big difference. Jennifer and I have both been married. We lost our spouses because it was His will—my wife shortly after childbirth, her husband in war. We spent months getting to know each other. We started as friends. We’ve taken our relationship very slowly. We waited three years to take the step you have with this man you’ve known for…how long?”
By comparison, her answer would make her sound rash. “Not three years.”
“Not even three months. I know your generation has a ‘hookup’ mentality, but—”
“It’s not like that.”
“All right,” he conceded. “But the fact that I haven’t met him—that he hasn’t done me the courtesy or you the honor of even showing his face—concerns me.”
Of course Daddy would see it that way. “I didn’t think I needed your permission to date someone. I’m an adult.”
“You are, but I’m concerned. You haven’
t acted like yourself in weeks. You’ve been quiet. Secretive. Sometimes even evasive. I’ve been worried something was troubling you. So I asked Cutter. He expressed concern about your attachment to this fellow operative, whom he categorized as savage and unprincipled. Dangerous. And not good enough for you.”
She wasn’t sure what to think about Pierce right now, but she couldn’t not defend him. “You don’t know him, Daddy. Cutter is biased after they argued during a mission.”
“Maybe. But do you know what this man does for a living?”
Her father was gentle. He condemned violence. Though Cutter and Pierce worked on the same team, her friend got a pass because he rescued hostages and often provided first-response medical attention to people in need. He protected those afflicted by war.
Pierce just killed.
“Yes.”
And how would Daddy react if he ever found out Pierce not only executed others but had killed his own father?
“Then you understand why, in my eyes, he seems like a taker of virtue and lives. Brea, you falling for someone like this… It’s not you.”
“He’s more than his job. And he saved Cutter’s life.”
“I’m grateful for that, but I fear he’s twisted your naive heart to his advantage.” He squeezed her hand. “Sweetheart, I’m not blaming you. I’m not surprised you weren’t worldly or strong enough to resist. I just want you to open your eyes.”
Brea reared back. Not worldly enough was fair. But strong? “I’ve taken care of you through two surgeries while keeping your church activities rolling, handling your parishioners, and still doing my own job. I’ve always tried to make you proud. But if he’s a mistake, Daddy, he’s mine to make. I’ll handle it.”
“I know you’ve had a lot on your plate. And of course I’m proud of you. Like I said, I’ve been blessed with the best daughter I could have asked for. But this man—”
“Stop. I’ve resisted every other temptation. Maybe I didn’t resist him because I’m not meant to.”
He pressed his hands together, almost as if he prayed for her. “Has he ever discussed marriage?”
“No.”
He’d talked about moving in… Something she couldn’t do without bringing shame to her father, her church, and her upbringing.
Brea knew these were antiquated concepts to most people her age. Nearly everyone she’d met in cosmetology school thought she was nuts. They’d shunned her because she didn’t want to drink at bars, swipe right, or spend her Saturday nights in bed with a stranger. She’d been okay with that—mostly because she’d never been tempted.
Pierce had changed everything.
If he had asked her yesterday to move in, she would have been hard-pressed not to say yes—even knowing she would have had to ask her father for forgiveness and her community for understanding. But for a man she really believed in, she would have risked everything.
She didn’t know if Pierce was truly that man.
Despite her doubts, her heart didn’t want to let him go. Most of her drive home, she’d tried to negotiate with herself and rationalize some way in which him killing his own father was okay. Other than self-defense, Brea couldn’t think of a scenario.
“Is that why you were crying?”
It was tempting to tell Daddy what he wanted to hear, but compounding a sin with a lie wasn’t right. “No. I was crying because I don’t know if he and I can work it out.”
“I’m sorry if he breaks your heart. Anything that hurts you hurts me. But I hope you’ll make the best choice for your future.” He took her shoulders in his grip. “If that’s not with him, I promise you will heal. And someday, you’ll find a man who loves you and wants to honor you with vows and his ring.”
She understood what he was trying to say. But Pierce hadn’t grown up a preacher’s kid or steeped in a church. For most people her age, without her upbringing, moving in together was a vast commitment. He probably thought he’d shown her his devotion.
“I want to get married someday. Right now, I’m just trying to figure things out.”
His face softened. “I know. And we all make mistakes. It’s God’s way of teaching us what we need to know. Your red eyes tell me this lesson has been hard for you.”
“I hear the cautions you and Cutter are giving me, but my heart wants to believe he’s the one.”
His smile was full of understanding. “First love is like a fever. It sweeps through your whole body, and you feel so weak in the face of something so strong.” He hesitated. “When I was seventeen, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I’d already heard God’s calling. But…so many of my friends had girlfriends. And they were having sex. It was fine, I told myself. Resisting temptation was a trial from God, so I stayed strong. Until I met a girl while working my summer job. We had a lot of fun dating in May. By the end of June, I suspected I was in love. Then things got heated. Over Fourth of July, her parents went on vacation and left her behind.” He shrugged. “I was weak, and it wasn’t my finest moment. I wasn’t her first lover, but that didn’t matter to me. I loved her. My parents found out what I’d done and they did something amazing for me.”
“What?”
“They challenged me not to see her for a month.”
Brea frowned. “Why?”
“My father told me that if it was truly love, then a month would change nothing. I would still be in love with her and she would be waiting for me. It was either that or they would take my car keys until school started in September.”
“What happened?”
“I chose her and gave them my car keys. I thought walking to work in the heat and missing out on time with my friends would be a small hardship because she would be by my side. As it turned out, not so much. She wasn’t as interested in being with me when I couldn’t take her places. And by August, she’d found someone else and left me brokenhearted. I spent a miserable month wishing I’d taken my parents’ alternative.”
Brea understood. That girl clearly hadn’t loved him at all.
“So I’m going to ask the same of you.”
“Daddy, I’m twenty-two. I paid for my car. I’m not giving it up. Besides, I couldn’t get to work without it.”
He held up a hand. “That’s not what I meant. I’m merely challenging you not to see him for a month so you can figure out how you feel. If he really loves you, he’ll wait.”
But Daddy’s tone made it clear he was convinced Pierce would move on. Brea didn’t know what to say.
“By the way, I met your mother four years later. I knew instantly she was the one. We both agreed to explore the sexual part of our relationship after we were married. My wedding night was one of the best of my life because I knew we’d made the right decision. I won’t lie; that was a long wait, but so worth it.”
Daddy was brilliant at persuading people to look at a situation through his lens. And he often made great points.
“I need to sleep on everything you’ve said.” And she needed to hear what Pierce had to say before she could determine if she needed to fight for him…or let him go.
“Of course. We’ll catch up on Saturday. I’m doing my first full day back in the office tomorrow, so I’m expecting a lot of crazy.”
“Okay. Let’s talk then.”
He kissed her forehead. “No matter what, I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Just promise me you’ll make decisions that add to your happiness before worrying about anyone else’s.”
“I will.”
The following morning, Brea rolled over, stretched, and opened her eyes. Last night when she’d laid her head down, she would have sworn she was far too upset to do anything but toss and turn all night. Instead, the minute her head had hit the pillow, she’d all but fallen into a coma.
She glanced at her bedside clock. Eight thirty? Her first appointment was in an hour. Yikes!
Tossing off her covers, she sat up and bounded out of bed.
Instantly, a crash of nausea dropped
her to her knees. She clutched her stomach and barely managed to crawl to the toilet before she lost the contents of her stomach.
Ugh. She must have picked up the stomach flu from one of her clients.
Early in her career as a hairdresser, she’d learned the hard way that the public was germ-filled. She’d been sicker that first year than she’d ever been.
When she’d finished retching, Brea flushed the toilet and lay back on the blessedly cold tile. She was going to have to call into work, darn it. After all the disruptions to her schedule these past few months, she really hated to lose the cash flow—or, potentially, her hard-earned clientele. But it wasn’t like she could coif people while she was vomiting.
Brea took some deep breaths, trying to calm her rolling stomach. But the smell of her citrus-vanilla bath beads on the nearby tub stung her nose and revived her urge to throw up.
Seconds later, nausea forced her to pitch her head over the toilet again.
When she’d finished, she pinched her nose closed and picked up the offending box, dragging it—and herself—to the garage, where she dumped the bath beads in the trash to go out with Monday’s pickup. The second she let herself back in the house, she sagged against the doorway with a groan.
What the heck was going on? She’d loved that scent since one of her middle school friends had given her those bath beads as a birthday gift. She had repurchased them over and over because they always brought her comfort and pleasure. So why had the smell suddenly made her sick? Well, sicker.
Scents had nothing to do with the stomach flu…
Instantly, a more terrifying reason for her smell sensitivity crowded her brain.
She raced across the house and grabbed her phone from its charger. The first thing she saw was a message from Pierce.
Made it to location. No sign of the asshole yet. May be here a few days. I’ll call when I can. See you when I get home.
Her relief that he was safe—at least for now—warred with her indecision about their future. But she shoved it aside to launch the app on which she charted her periods.
