Twisted Mercy (Red Team Book 4) (18 page)

He thought about the Columbian drug lord he’d killed. The guy’s death shifted the balance of power from the two big Latino gangs to the WKB, a shift that earned him a permanent place in the club. As far as anyone here knew, he’d been transferred to a different prison, where he’d served another five years before being released.
 

But that wasn’t how it went down. And when he looked back at all the little pieces, each of the choices he’d made, he’d have to be blind not to see how they worked neatly to the advantage of the Red Team.
 

Greer had been recruited at a weekend party for hackers while he’d spent time in hell making his own cover.

Max tossed his unfinished beer in the trash and headed outside. He needed wind. And lots of it.
 

He yanked his vest off and flipped it inside out. Sitting on his bike, he backed it out from the line of parked bikes, then kicked it alive, welcoming its deep, rumbling growl. The bike was as hungry as he was for the road and the wind. And distance to put his head back together. He took off down the narrow mountain road Wyoming called a highway.

Maybe he’d go. Just fucking go and not come back.
 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Selena looked over the living room as she came down the stairs. She wore her gun holstered at her hip. Her T-shirt was tucked into her low-rise jeans. Most of the guys were already assembled in the living room, except Owen. She was glad he was absent. He always made her nervous.
 

Greer was behind the bar. He lifted his bottle of beer. “Want a drink?” he asked.

“Sure. Whatever you’re drinking.” Greer opened the bottle and handed it to her.
 

She turned at the bar and faced the room. You’d think she’d be used to being the only female in a group of male warriors by now. She wasn’t. At five foot nine, she rarely found so many guys taller than her in a room together.
 

Angel and Kelan stood next to her at the bar. Blade and Val were sitting in the club chairs in one of the room's several furniture clusters facing the bar. Val watched her with a speculative look in his eyes. She met and held his gaze, refusing to be cowed by him. She had an unusual weakness for blonds. Val was something of a conundrum to her. As the team sniper, he won her respect. As the team clown, however, he did not.

She sipped her beer, wondering what Val was thinking. It was clear he liked women, could even be called a connoisseur of them. She wondered how she stacked up in his estimation. Most guys found her too direct, too forceful, too manly. If she were honest with herself, she’d even admit she had a chip on her shoulder.
 

Dates for her were few and far between. Not that she was thinking any of the men in the room presented an opportunity for her. Best to keep things clean and not sleep where she worked.

She hadn’t always been this way. Well, maybe she had. She’d always been a warrior, getting in fights at school. Protecting the weaker ones. When she was a freshman in high school, a couple of the football team players ganged up on her, dragging her to an empty bathroom and nearly raping her. Years of street fighting had ensured she was the only one to walk out of that bathroom relatively unscathed.
 

It was at that point her parents had decided she needed to learn martial arts.
 

Her sensei taught her the value of avoiding fights. And she tried. She really did. But the fights came to her. She never started them, but she always ended them.
 

After high school, she studied political science in college, and managed to get her degree in three years. When she graduated, her career decisions were to go into law school or go into the military. Both seemed to satisfy her warrior spirit. She chose the latter. She applied to several different special operations and special forces teams—knowing in advance that none took females.
 

When none would accept her into their ranks, she’d run out of options. It was at that point that the Red Team had contacted her. She was the first female to enter their program, and to date was the only female to successfully complete it.

She knew she was up to any challenge any of the men here would give her. And now, seeing that challenge in the blond giant’s eyes, she knew she was equal to whatever he was thinking.

“Spit it out, Val.”

“Have tea with me tomorrow, Selena.” Yeah, not what she was expecting.

“I don’t drink tea.” She did actually; she just didn’t feel like being agreeable.
 

He shrugged. “Then don’t drink tea. Just come with me tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so.”

“It isn’t an option.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

Angel laughed. “Sounds like a challenge.”

Val set his drink down and stood up, then slowly crossed the room to stand in front of her. “So it’s a challenge,” he said with a shrug and the hint of a shit-eating grin. “I win, you come with me tomorrow. You win, you claim your prize.”

Selena slowly smiled. “I win, you have your fingernails painted pink.”

“Done!”

Another surprise. Was the dude bi? “So, what's the challenge?”

“Arm wrestle?”

She shook her head. “No way. I can’t win against you in an arm-wrestling match.”

Something in his face tightened, shifted. His eyes didn’t leave hers, but his challenge sent a chill over her skin. “Then a straight wrestling match.”

Blade got to his feet and joined them at the bar. He set his hand on Val’s shoulder. “She’s going to hand your ass to you. It’s been nice knowing you.”

Val grinned. He held out his hand to Selena. “Shake? Two out of three falls?”

She put her hand in his, felt his callused palm slip against hers. Why had she thought his hands would be soft? They weren’t. No sooner had they shaken hands, he bent and picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her outside.

She could have dropped him before he’d taken a step, but the guys seemed so pleased that he won an initial victory over her that she let it slide. It was the last easy win she’d give the bastard. He set her on her feet halfway across the upper yard. Primed for a movement, they circled each other. Behind them, the guys had come out from the living room and were now standing on the patio, clapping and whistling like idiots.

She kept her fists up, protecting her face. He walked backward, grinning at her. His arms were down and easy at his sides. She kicked at his shoulder. He caught her leg at the ankle. She pushed off the ground with her other leg, grabbed his head, and wrapped her knee around his face. The fast shift in her weight dropped them both to the ground. She grabbed his arm and twisted, keeping his chest in a scissor hold until he tapped out.
 

She released him and jumped to her feet. His grin wasn’t quite gone, but it would be before she was finished with him.
 

“Two out of three, ’kay?” he asked.

“Sure, but I will happily put you down three times.”

They continued to circle each other. One second, he was four feet from her, the next he’d grabbed her ankle and neck and dropped her to the ground. As soon as she was down, she bucked up under him, shifting him forward. She grabbed his hips and pushed up, then moved her legs to wrap around one of his. Catching his ankle in the hook of her elbow, she twisted his foot up.
 

She looked over to the patio and saw more people were watching their wrestling match. Eden, Ivy, and Mandy were there, with their guys. And little Casey. Owen, the cold-eyed leader of the bunch, now stood on the patio, just to the left of everyone else. He looked pissed.

She glanced at Val, whose knee was at her mercy. She wondered how long Owen had been watching them—and if his presence was the reason for such an easy victory over Val.

“What time tomorrow?” she asked through clenched teeth as she came to her feet, deciding two out of three was good enough.

Val caught her ankle and twisted her leg, lifting it as he pushed back, tumbling her to the ground. He crawled over the top of her and caught her wrists. He didn’t look like a guy upset about losing to a female. “So you’re coming with me?”

“I don’t trust you to get your nails done without me.”

Val grinned. “Smart woman. How about 1:30 p.m?”

“Done.”

Val jumped to his feet and held a hand out to help her up. She dusted herself off as they returned to the patio and the crowd waiting there. One end of the group was decidedly chilly. Selena refused to look in Owen’s direction. The guys clapped her on the back. She would’ve claimed the win, but it felt as if Val had capitulated too easily.

“She’s legit wicked,” Val said.

The guys laughed, then headed back into the house. Owen glared at Val. “Selena, go inside.”

Selena looked from Owen to Kit, and then Val. She couldn’t disobey or disrespect him as easily as she would any of the other guys—he was her boss. She stepped inside, feeling as if she’d just been shamed. She fucking hated that feeling.

Owen started across the patio, heading toward the den. “In the den. Now. Both of you.”

Val gave Kit a look. The muscles at the corner of Kit’s jaw bunched. He glared at Val, then followed Owen to the den.
 

Val tried to swallow the grin that broke out as he brought up the tail end of the trio. He’d pissed Owen off. Oh yeah, he’d won this round.

Inside the den, Owen stood behind Blade’s desk. Kit stood in front of it. Val felt as if he had been called to the principal’s office. At least he’d mastered his grin. He stopped in front of the desk, next to Kit, with his shoulders back, his chin up, standing straight as a raw recruit.
 

But unlike a new soldier, he met Owen’s eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” Owen asked in a deceptively calm voice.

“What was what?” Val asked.

Owen didn’t speak immediately, just let his cold blue eyes torture Val. “There a reason you’re humiliating Selena?”

“I wasn’t humiliating her.”

“I never see you carrying any of the men out to fight. She’s the only female on the team. You will respect her.”

“I do respect her.” He was about to say more when the French doors to the patio opened and Selena stepped into the den. “Selena, get out of here,” Val snapped at her.

 
Selena looked from him to Owen. “This is about what happened out there?”

“It is,” Owen said.

“Then I’m staying.”

Owen nodded. “So be it.” He pressed his lips together as he scowled at Val. “Selena has a hard road ahead of her here on the team. She doesn’t need you making it harder.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Selena interjected, “I don’t need preferential treatment.”

Owen slowly shifted his gaze from Val to Selena. Val had to tamp down the urge to step in front of her. “It isn’t preferential treatment to respect another team member.”

“I’m not a special snowflake. Val challenged me and I accepted. Presumably, that’s something that would have happened between any of the guys. I don’t like being called out as unique or different or special or fragile or anything.”

“Well, you are different and you are special and you are fragile and this is my goddamn team and I’m going to run it the way I see fit.”

“Selena, enough,” Val hissed. “Go away.”

“I’m not going away.” She folded her arms and glared back at Owen. “Whatever punishment you dole out to him, you can dole out to me.”

Val gritted his teeth. “I initiated it. I’ll take the punishment.”

“Oh, you’re big and bad, all right.” She faced Val. “You think I can’t take the heat?”

“Why should you when it’s my fault?”

“Because I’m just as much to blame as you are.”

Val shook his head. “I had you backed into a corner. There was nothing you could have done but accept my challenge.”

“For real? You think I can’t say ‘no’? I don’t need you to protect me. Did I or did I not put you on the ground?”

“Did I or did I not carry you outside?”

“Enough!” Owen banged a fist on the desk. “Do it again”—he looked at Val—“and you’ll start losing pay. Now get out of here.”

Val tightened his posture and looked straight ahead as he clicked his heels. “Sir!” The gesture would have been ever so much more effective if he’d been wearing his dress shoes. Or at least had he been standing on hard surface flooring. He pivoted for the door.
 

Shutting it behind him and Selena, he faced her in the hallway. “When boots are going up asses, Selena, don’t stand behind me.”

“Screw you.”

“And about your being a snowflake—you are one of a kind. You’re the only female we have on the team.” He straightened slightly. “I was out of line. I’m sorry.”

She waved off his apology. “Not true. Eden’s on the team.”

“She’s not a full team member. She didn’t come from the Red Team.”

“This is a temp gig for me.”

“Wanna bet?”

He turned and started down the hall toward the dining room. She hurried after him. “You are still getting your nails done,” she stated emphatically.

“Of course.”

“Hey.” She stopped and faced him, grabbing his arm so he’d focus on her. Like he needed that prompt, or any at all, to look at her. “Let’s not go tomorrow. Let’s book an appointment for the day of the wedding.” She smiled as she spoke, the devil shining in her eyes. “Owen will have forgotten about the challenge by then. Think how pissed he’ll be seeing you in your penguin suit and pink nails. It’ll be like a twofer.”

Val smiled, feeling the warmth of her humor and their secret wrap around him. “I like your thinking. But remind me never to get on your bad side. You are one terrifying female.”
And glorious.
 

He wondered whether she was as dominant in bed as she was on her feet. He’d find out one day. One day soon, he promised himself.

Selena leaned over and whispered, “I thought Owen was going to pop a gasket back there. What’s the big deal with a sparring match, anyway?”

Her words danced along his skin, raising gooseflesh. And other things. He looked down at her. “Seriously?” He studied her face. “You don’t know what the hell that was really about?”