by Finn, Emilia
Winner Takes All
Checkmate, #7
Emilia Finn
WINNER TAKES ALL
By: Emilia Finn
Copyright © 2019. Emilia Finn
Publisher: Beelieve Publishing, Pty Ltd.
Cover Design: Amy Queue
Editing: Bird’s Eye Books
Cover model: Alex Turner
Cover photographer: Golden Czermak/FuriousFotog
ISBN: 978 170 851 9209
This Book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This Book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy.
To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected]
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of Emilia Finn’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Also by Emilia Finn
Looking To Connect?
WINNER TAKES ALL
1. Spence
2. Abigail
3. Spence
4. Abigail
5. Spence
6. Abigail
7. Spence
8. Abigail
9. Spence
10. Abigail
11. Abigail
12. Spence
13. Abigail
14. Spence
15. Abigail
16. Spence
17. Abigail
18. Spence
19. Abigail
20. Spence
21. Spence
22. Spence
23. Abigail
24. Spence
25. Abigail
26. Spence
27. Abigail
28. Epilogue
29. Checkmate
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
Also by Emilia Finn
Looking To Connect?
For the girls
Also by Emilia Finn
(in reading order)
The Rollin On Series
Finding Home
Finding Victory
Finding Forever
Finding Peace
Finding Redemption
Finding Hope
The Survivor Series
Because of You
Surviving You
Without You
Rewriting You
Always You
Take A Chance On Me
The Checkmate Series
Pawns In The Bishop’s Game
Till The Sun Dies
Castling The Rook
Playing For Keeps
Rise Of The King
Sacrifice The Knight
Winner Takes All
Rollin On Novellas
(Do not read before finishing the Rollin On Series)
Begin Again – A Short Story
Written in the Stars – A Short Story
Full Circle – A Short Story
Worth Fighting For – A Bobby & Kit Novella
Looking To Connect?
Website: www.emiliafinn.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EmiliaBFinn/
Newsletter: https://bit.ly/2YB5Gmw
Email: [email protected]
The Crew: https://www.facebook.com/groups/therollincrew/
Did you know you can get a FREE book? Click here for Bry and Nelly’s story: BookHip.com/DPMMQM
WINNER TAKES ALL
Checkmate, #7
EMILIA FINN
1
Spence
Some men will happily spend their lives in pursuit of freedom and victory. For his brothers. For his team. For his country. He’ll protect those he loves, lay down his life if need be, or wield a pair of pliers to exact revenge on those that deserve it. He’ll train those younger, smaller, newer than he, so they too can be strong and smart, and he’ll carry out orders without question, because those that handed them down are part of his trusted circle.
That circle is small, and is blood-in only.
Anyone that sits at his dinner table has already gone to war with him, so they’re trusted without exception. Or they’re a loved one of one of his war friends, so they too are trusted without exception.
There’s no doubt for that circle, no second guessing, no wondering, because blood-in is blood-in, and when your brother is ripping a rapist’s testicles out of his body with a smile on his face, you know he’s the guy you want at your table.
My brothers have found love; they’ve found their peace, their humanity. They’ve found what they consider the holy grail of happiness. But me… I get one better. I’m all of those things listed above, but I get new ass in my bed every single night, and no awkwardness the next morning once that cab has picked them up and escorted them off my property.
I’ve found my holy grail too, and it tastes so sweet.
* * *
“Shooter one, checking in.”
I glance across the massive clearing spread out ahead of me, peering through the deep shadows beyond where the flood lights can reach, and catch sight of my target, covered from head to toe in camouflage, and holding a high-powered rifle. He races for cover as I stretch my finger toward the trigger and count through his steps.
Three… two… I’ll make the shot, and–
I hesitate for a single second, just long enough for him to escape behind cover.
“Fuck. I had him.”
“But you lost him.” Kane Bishop’s cutting tone crackles through my earpiece. “What the fuck are you doing, man? Are you here with us, or are you pulling your dick? Soph could do a better job than you.”
“I can hear you little bitches.” Sophia Solomon’s angelic voice is a direct contrast to her words.
She’s our cute little ballerina, but she’s also my sister in arms, and savage when we have work to do. Merciless, petty, genius, and hot too. I’d take her for a spin in bed any day she offered, complete with ropes and blindfolds, but she’s with Jay, and he’d be all about that nut-cutting life if I tried.
“You guys have your own target,” she reminds us. “I’m busy over here with mine, so stop bringing me into your shit unless you’ve got something that’ll impress me.”
“I love you, Sugar Plum.” Jay Bishop’s laughing voice annoys every man on this op, because he never takes his job seriously. “It turns me on, listening to you work.”
“Shut up!” Kane snaps so loud, it rings in my ear. “Can we focus? Do some work, and stop touching your dicks.”
“Calm down, Bish.”
It’s almost like deer hunting, when a buck races between trees and hopes to live. Similarly, my target darts from his cover and aims for the next. I slow my breath and focus on the dog tags around his neck.
Counting his steps, I wait for my chance, then squeeze the trigger. I nod when I hi
t the center of his broad chest. This isn’t a high adrenaline sport for me like it once was. It’s just… breathe, aim, fire, move on.
“Target down, and I haven’t touched my cock yet.”
“Good job, shooter.” Kane moves so the twigs beneath his body crackle. “We’ve got three more. Then we can go home.”
“You really should calm down,” Soph murmurs. “Jess is safe. I have her in my scope.”
“Don’t have her in your scope!” he explodes. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”
“I’m not gonna shoot her, psycho. I was just checking in.”
“My pregnant fiancée is having contractions, and you figure aiming a fucking weapon at her head is a good idea?”
“Shooter one!” Eric’s shout adds more ache to my brain. “Focus! And take your scope off Sophia. She’s one of us.”
“Bitch is aiming at me?”
Our team falls apart because Soph aims at Jess, Kane aims at Soph, and now Jay aims at Kane.
“Come at me, motherfucker. I’ll pop you between the eyes and finish this.”
While my supposed teammates quibble over stupidity, my second target uses their distraction to dart across the open field, grab his injured soldier, and drag him behind a massive stack of hay bales. I follow his two-hundred-and-ten-pound frame through my scope, stroke a finger over the side of my weapon, and wait for him to screw up a second time.
“I got this one. In three.” I’m not sure what it says about my brain or the way I’m wired, but it’s like I get a preview into the future when I hold a weapon. Just a two-second peek into my target’s decisions. “He’s gonna step out in two.” I slide my finger over the trigger. “One.” I fire and watch as red explodes against his back when he steps out and tries to run. “Target down.”
“Nailed it–” Jay’s celebration stops when our third target loses his mind and steps out like a dumb shit. Jay pauses his sentence, aims, then fires his shot with precision so his target drops and red spills from his helmet. “Fuckin’ nailed it. Did you see that, Kane?”
“Saw it. Good shot. Last one.”
“Dibs.” Eric sits on the opposite side of the clearing from me. He lays on his stomach on the hill, his sniper rifle trained on the bales of hay that Alex Turner – chief of police – hides behind. His soldiers are down, his army is defeated. He’s the last man standing, and he will not survive tonight. “I wanna lay out the chief.”
“No, I wanna do it.” I crawl three feet to my left and reset with a better angle. “I’ve been waiting for this day.”
“He’s mine,” Kane drawls. “He wants to test me, he thinks he gets an opinion on whether Jessie and I marry… he’s mine. That’s a direct order.”
Jay growls through my earpiece, because he wanted it bad. He’s still finding parking violations on his windshield every time he walks away from his car, even if he’s not actually breaking any laws.
Alex Turner doesn’t get a sore wrist from whacking off, but from writing bullshit citations just because he can.
“You got Oz,” Kane murmurs. “You took that motherfucker down, so stop bitching.”
“But I wanted the chief,” he whines. “He thinks he gets to look at me like I’m a criminal every time we’re in the same room.”
“Jay, you are a criminal,” Soph snaps. “You both are. You’re bad news, and I wouldn’t let you marry my sister either, if I had the choice.”
“He doesn’t get a choice. Wedding is in two weeks, and I’ll be fucked if he stops this.”
“Bogey! Bogey at six o’clock.”
“What the fuck…?” Kane murmurs, and then, “What the fuck!”
He jumps to his feet when, nine months pregnant with twins and waddling, Jess sneaks between a set of hay bales in sweatpants and her man’s shirt covering her massively stretched belly. Her hair is tied in a high knot, her breath comes in white puffs from the cold air this late at night. Alex doesn’t know she’s coming, but she’s not being particularly quiet either. He’s so focused on the guns up high, he doesn’t notice his own sister sneaking up on his six while he crouches behind cover.
“Jessica!” Kane drops his weapon and tears the goggles from his eyes. “Jessica Lenaghan! Don’t you do it.”
“Way to blow her cover, Bishop.” I roll my eyes and watch this midday drama unfold with the stupidest grin on my face.
I’m a hardened ranger, a career military man who left after too many years of doing too much that made it hard for me to sleep, but since my brothers brought these girls into the fold, I find myself smiling more and more. I would lead any one of them to my bed if the opportunity was there, because my brothers don’t settle for ordinary. They bagged extraordinary – brains and beauty – which turns me the fuck on.
But I don’t say any of that out loud. There are lines a brother doesn’t cross, and imagining little Jessie in my bed would end with Kane Bishop’s nine-millimeter pressed to my temple while I say my goodbyes.
And I’d have no one to blame but myself.
So instead, I treat her like a sister – a sister I enjoy seeing in Daisy Dukes – and thank the universe that nobody can read my thoughts like I can read my targets’.
“You hear me, Jessie?” I ask her.
“I hear you.” She has an earpiece just like the rest of us, and despite the fact she’s top-heavy and bound to topple over at any moment, she continues to slide through the darkness toward Alex. “Guide me.”
“Turn to the left now.”
“Don’t guide her!” Kane shouts. “Jessica. Get back under cover. What if you take a rogue shot? These things hurt!”
“So don’t shoot at me, dumbass. Where to, Spence?”
“Come out at the end, gun up. He’ll be on your right, ten feet ahead. He’s not facing you, so you’ll have a beat to take him out. But don’t be slow…” I pause. “And don’t fall on your face.”
“Aww, Spencer loves her,” Jay teases in a sing-song voice. “He’s never told me not to fall over.”
“Because I don’t give a fuck if you break your neck,” I answer. “Three… two…” I wait her out, wait for her to approach the end. “One… Fire, Jessie.”
She emerges at the end of her tunnel with a battle cry and her left hand massaging the side of her stomach. Alex crouches beside his shot best friend, but his eyes shoot up at Jess’ stupid roar, then he spins with his gun cocked and loaded.
“Don’t shoot, Turner!” Kane runs down the side of the embankment in the way he was trained never to do. Banshee shouting, arms waving, total fucking lunatic, attention-seeking as Alex’s eyes first stop on his traitor sister, then swing around to Kane as Jess takes her shot.
Red paint explodes over Alex’s chest. One shot, two, three, she massacres him with an evil giggle, and squeezes her knees tight when he drops to the ground with a groan.
“I win!” Jess thrusts her arms into the air and makes me duck a little lower. She only has a paintball gun, but waving any weapon in the air scares me, so I hunker down and watch the show as Kane grabs his girl and disarms her as she squeals, “I won the game!”
“You won the award for stupidity,” Kane snaps. His voice echoes in the space below us, then again in my ear. “I can’t believe you came down here! Jesus. What are you gonna do if you drop a baby in the yard? Lay it in the hay and sing a Christmas song?”
I shake my head and tug the piece out of my ear as I climb to my feet.
Game over. The gunfight we’d been planning for weeks is over, and none of us got to shoot the chief like we wanted. Jessie stole that from us, and by the looks of things, is about to wet herself from excitement.
“Nice shots.” Grunting, Jay climbs to his feet and grins so his pearly white teeth stand out behind the green and black paint he smeared on his face. He lets his weapon dangle by his side, claps my shoulder as I pass, then falls into step so we make our way down the small hill at the back of my shooting range.
This place used to be a farm – a farm for fruit, not animals
– so most of the land was flattened for planting, but the property near the very back, the place that takes five or so minutes to walk to from my back door, has natural hills and the hills we built from extra dirt brought in on trucks.
This is the first time we’ve ever used it for paintballs instead of live rounds, but the chief said we couldn’t use the real thing, and seeing as he’s the law, we didn’t have a lot of choice.
“You think she’ll make it to the wedding?”
Jay chuckles as Soph emerges from shrubbery to our right and joins us as we walk toward the guys in the center. “Hell no, she won’t make it. Look at her!” He takes Soph’s hand, and thrusts the other in Jess’ direction as she slaps at Kane. “She’s crowning and acting all irrational and shit. She just took her own brother out. Doesn’t matter though, ‘cause I went online and got myself a marriage license.”
I turn to him and frown. “What? For you and Soph?”
“No, not like a license for us to marry. But a license so I can marry them.” Ten feet from the couple who swear they’re marrying in two weeks, he stops and grins. “I can be the dude that says ‘you may kiss your bride.’ I can be the one who signs their certificate. For the rest of our lives, I’ll be the guy that married them. They’ll frame that shit and have me on their wall.”
