Fighting Chance (Misty Grove Book 1) (15 page)

“I never saw you as a freak. You’re brave and a bit misguided maybe.”

“Hey—”

“I’m talking,” Trent cut in and her eyes narrowed. She was so full of shit. She had just admitted she liked him bossing her around and now acted like he annoyed her. Maybe this was their foreplay. “You’re not a freak, and it pisses me off that you think of yourself that way. You’re beautiful and smart. I’ve read your file.” Though most of it had been heavily redacted. “You’re a woman of courage who has served her country, even if it was under the ideals of a megalomaniac. You’ve saved women from prostitution and you’ve put an end to the reign of dictators and members of the criminal underworld in Europe. It may have been unconventional. But people like us, what we do, will never be in the news. The people, who live free each day and sleep soundly at night, will never know that there are people like us who have kept their bogeymen at bay. You. Are. Not. A. Freak,” Trent declared, leaning in and kissing her lightly on the lips. “You’re a hero, Cassandra.” He kissed her again. “And my woman.” He got up and sat beside her. “And if anyone—and that’s including you—calls you a freak again, they will answer to me. Now eat your sandwich.”

“Yes, Sheriff.”

“Hmm ... I think I’ll like you calling me sheriff when I finally have you under me. Remind me to have my handcuffs close by.” Trent grinned as Cassie turned all pink. Yes, he would like to cuff her to the bed as he fucked her hard. Thank God, she was a sturdy woman. The things he wanted to do to her were insane. He’d probably have to fuck her for five straight days to finally satisfy this fierce hunger he had for her. He’d been working on a way he could be alone with her without compromising her safety. He needed another week or so and he would finally have her.

He derived satisfaction in watching her wolf down her sandwich. He’d put together their lunch this morning before he went into work. Mac, as usual, kept him updated about Cassie’s whereabouts. Cassie knew he talked to Mac frequently, but she never mentioned anything more about it after she’d asked him once. He didn’t deny that he was keeping tabs on her through their ranch manager.

“This sandwich is good,” Cassie said, lifting a finger to her mouth to keep a crumb from falling. “Where’d you get the pastrami?”

“There’s a deli close to my apartment that gets its stuff from a local artisanal maker.”

“I wonder if Millie would get some for the diner. Except it might be too fancy.” She finished her sandwich before Trent did.
 

“You want another?” Trent asked with amusement. He had an extra one in the brown bag.
 

“Oh, Lord no,” Cassie laughed. “You piled that pastrami sky-high just the way I like it. Besides”—she patted her stomach—“I need to watch my carbs. I’m getting soft around the middle and my ass is getting too big. No more bread for me.”

“You’re not planning on fighting anymore, are you?” Trent asked sharply.

“No, I’m not. Colt and Matt have put their foot down and told Wyatt that Lucas and I are done. With the demise of Harold Baxter, we’re not in as much danger anymore. Wyatt could sell his land if he wanted to. But I don’t think he would. There’s enough hate between him and Bowman. He isn’t going to sell.” She paused. “At least not to Bowman.”

“So you go to the boxing gym often?” Trent asked. He liked her round, perky ass and would hate to see it disappear because of some damned diet. He’d been fantasizing about digging his fingers into those tight buns as he drove his cock deep into her warm pussy. It didn’t help that he knew exactly how tight she was. He’d been jacking off to the memory of that one and only time he’d fingered and tasted her. Dammit. If he didn’t have her soon, he’d spontaneously ejaculate from thoughts of her.

“Why? Do you wanna spar?” There was that merry glint in her eyes he loved so much. What this woman did to him with just a look and a smile.
 

“Maybe one of these days.” Yes, he would love to spar, but her idea of sparring was different from what he had in mind. He needed to change the subject before he dragged her behind the tree and fucked her right then and there.

“So, now that we’ve finished eating,” Trent led in. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

*****

Apparently Trent had not forgotten about their earlier conversation, and judging by the hardening of his jaw, he wasn’t going to.

“I was sixteen the first time I had to assassinate someone.” It lessened the burden when she didn’t use the word “kill.”

“Holy fuck,” Trent muttered.

“I don’t know what you already know.”

“I know Crowder was on your first mission. It was a crime boss in Eastern Europe, right?”

He was tense beside her, waiting for her to continue.

Cassie nodded. “He liked young girls.”

Trent cursed and shot up from the bench. Angry waves and agitation rolled off his body, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Go on,” he growled, but he wouldn’t look at her.

“Trent, if this is too much—”

“Do. Not. Fucking. Stop.” Trent raised his head and glared at her. “My anger is not toward you, Cassandra, but it tears me up inside that you were used in such a manner.”

She told him how she was planted in with the other women who were kidnapped. She had been drugged, but because of her unique metabolism, the drug didn’t affect her. She told him how the mob boss had tried to fuck her.

“I drove the spikes into his neck before he even unbuckled his belt.”

Trent relaxed a little, but his gaze was fixed on her now, so intense, it was almost hard to return. But she held his eyes as she told him how the bastard bled all over her.

“John came for me when I took too long in the room. I was shaking and sobbing. I’d killed a man and his blood was all over me, and all I could do was beg him not to tell anyone at Chrysalis that I’d fallen apart.”

“You were sixteen,” Trent spat out. “Too young to even contemplate what you’d done, what you were tasked to do. I don’t care if you’re from super-human genes. You were just a kid.”

“That’s what John said. It got easier after that. No, I’ve never had to sleep with a target,” Cassie added when a dark look came over Trent’s face. “My first few assignments were to get close to perverted people in power like dictators and crime lords. When I turned seventeen, I wasn’t that appealing to that type anymore and I was used in covert military-type high-value target—HVT— missions. It all went to shit when Kate was taken away. You probably know the rest.”

Trent nodded solemnly and sat beside her once more. He curled an arm around her, hugging her close.

“Sometimes I feel like John chose Misty Grove so he’ll always be there to watch over me,” Cassie whispered, inhaling Trent’s heady scent of cologne, sweat, and pure rugged male. In all the weeks she’d known him, especially in this last one, she found comfort in his presence, a certain peace like she had never felt before. Trent was like an anchor while he gave her the opportunity to be weak. It was wearisome to always remain strong.
 

“I’m here now,” Trent assured her. “He can rest easy.”

“I think he likes you.”

“Good.”

She pulled away and looked up at him. “Good? That’s all you have to say? He’s one of my oldest friends.”

“Babe, guys don’t really admit to liking each other. They’d rather say they hate each other’s guts. That’s how we bond.”

“That’s true.” She placed her head back on his chest.

“I like you though,” he said quietly.

Cassie smiled into his uniform. “Good.”

He sighed and then chuckled. “I had that coming, didn’t I?”

“Trent?”

“Hmm?”

“I like you, too.”
 

He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her shoulder.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Deuce Walker was dead.

The call came in at 6:00 a.m. and dragged Trent out of bed after having only come off shift a couple of hours before.

His investigator, Owen Riley, was interviewing the nurse who’d found Walker. He appeared to have died in his sleep. But because he was under the sheriff’s department’s custody and a perpetrator of a failed abduction, the circumstances of his death needed to be explored. The medical examiner was already at the hospital preparing to transport the body.
 

Speaking of sheriff’s custody, Trent was pissed that a rookie was put on shift last night. Since Deuce’s injuries were too complicated to manage at county detention, he’d remained at County Hospital with a posted guard.

“How did this happen?” Trent asked Brooks, who had spoken to the rookie earlier before sending him back to the office to file his report.
 

“We’re not sure it’s foul play yet, boss.”

“I’m not asking about Walker. I’m asking about how a rookie was put in charge of an important perp.”

“The regular guard had a family emergency yesterday. We didn’t have anyone else available for the night shift.”

“Why wasn’t I informed of this change?”

“Your plate was full yesterday, what with the county manager and Yorktown. Besides, Riley made the call since he’s the investigator in charge of Walker’s case.”

That damned budget meeting with the county manager took fucking forever. Trent was proposing to hire four more deputies on staff. Yorktown, another municipality of Buckland County, was already talking about contracting their services for ongoing patrols. He’d gone over to the town to talk to their citizens about their concerns about some unsavory characters passing through.

He looked at the surveillance cameras around the area. “Has Riley put a request in for the footage?”

“Yes.”

“Crime Scene on the way?”

Brooks sighed. “Yes. Sheriff, you have to let Riley do his job and not micromanage him.”

Trent huffed an irritated breath. “I am not micromanaging him.”
 

Brooks raised a brow. “You’re not? I think you’re letting this get too personal.”

“Shut it, Brooks,” Trent growled.

“I don’t like to speak out of line, Sheriff.”

“But you will anyway.”

“It has not escaped the department’s notice you’ve gotten pretty close to Cassie Reed.”

“I don’t see how it’s anyone’s business,” Trent replied coldly. He had not seen Cassie in three days because he’d been swamped with work. He hadn’t been slacking in his duties as a sheriff.
 

“She could be a suspect if Walker’s death is not from natural causes. And if his death came from his injuries sustained from his beating at Cassie’s hands, one would say she could be guilty of manslaughter.”

Trent was surprised he had the self-control not to slam his deputy against the nearest wall.

“In case you missed it,” he said in a low steady voice,“Cassandra Reed was the victim here.”

“Just playing devil’s advocate, Sheriff. But you can’t say I don’t have a point.”

Fuck. He so fucking did. Which was why Trent was on edge. If Walker’s death was not from natural causes, who would want him dead and to what end? Were they afraid he would talk?

A cellphone rang and Trent watched Riley answer his phone.

A second later, his own phone buzzed. It was his assistant, Betty, but he let it go to voicemail.

He was about to ask Brooks another question when Riley’s loud “What?” echoed in the hallway.

Brooks’ brows furrowed. “Wonder what that was all about.”

Shit, that phone call from Betty. He was about to call his assistant back when she called him again. This time Trent picked up.

“Stone.”

“Sheriff, thank God you answered this time.”

“What’s going on, Betty?”

“There was a call out to the Bowman’s residence.”

“What did he do?”

“Well, I don’t know. He’s dead, Trent.”

He must not have heard Betty correctly.

“What are you talking about? Arnold Bowman is dead?” His eyes met Brooks’ bewildered ones.

“His cleaning lady found him this morning and called 911. They sent an ambulance and a squad car.”

Trent was starting to have a bad feeling about this. “Redirect Crime Scene to Bowman’s house. ASAP.”

“Already did.”

“I’m heading over there now with Riley. Cancel all my meetings this morning.”

“Ten-four, Sheriff.”

Ending the call, Trent walked up to Riley. “You’re updated?”

“Yes, I am,” Riley replied grimly. “What the hell is going on, Trent?”

Trent shook his head. “Something’s going down for sure. I’ll meet you there.” He turned to Brooks. “I want you to stay on top of Walker’s case. Go through everything. Who gave him his meds, who served him his food, everyone who has passed through this hallway since yesterday morning.”

“On it, Trent.”

He nodded to his deputy and made a quick exit from the hospital. On the way to his pickup, he called Cassie. She answered on the first ring.

“I just heard the news.”

“How? I just heard it myself.”

Instead of answering him, she asked, “So Bowman’s really dead?”

“Yes. Listen to me, Cassie. Deuce Walker is also dead. I have a strong feeling it was foul play.”

Silence for a beat and then, “What? Deuce is dead?”

“I’m on my way to Bowman’s house. Please promise me you’re not leaving the ranch today.”

“But—”

“Goddammit, Cassandra!” Trent lost his temper. “Just do this for me. Stay at the ranch. I don’t know what the hell is going on. But something bigger is at play here. I fucking hope you all have told me everything because I find out that you’ve been withholding information from me...” Trent expelled a ragged breath. “I’m going to be so fucking pissed.”

Her silence didn’t do anything to assuage the dread rattling through his body.
 

“Just ... don’t leave the ranch. Okay?” he said finally.

“Okay.”

Trent called Montgomery next. His woman might be a former assassin and knew how to take care of herself, but he wasn’t taking any chances with her safety.
 

*****

The crime scene investigators were already processing the location when Trent arrived. Riley was talking to a woman, presumably the housekeeper who’d found Bowman’s body in his office.