Fighting Chance (Misty Grove Book 1) (14 page)

“What?”

Piper huffed in irritation. “When will we go after Scout again?”

“Such concern for your sister,” Xavier mocked. “Can’t wait to use her to preserve your strength? Even if it means she’ll be reduced to a vegetable like Kate?”

“I only care about Kate. Everyone else left me to rot.”

“Oh, but you didn’t rot, did you? Kate made sure Chrysalis left you alone until they’d punished her enough for betraying them.”

“Whose side are you on?” Gray eyes narrowed on him.

“Yours, my dear,” Xavier sighed. “Now why don’t you two go back to your duties so I can get back to mine.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Don’t be a stranger, Miss Cassie.”

Cassie smiled at the salt-and-pepper-haired man seated behind a desk. John Crowder was the owner of Crowder General Store. He’d also been her
watcher
on her first kill.
 

“I won’t, but I’ve been out of commission a bit.” She picked up the box of goods John had packed for her. They were in his office so they could talk freely without customers accidentally listening in on what they shouldn’t.

“Heard the gist of it,” he said gravely and then nodded at the box. “Mailman has an envelope for Colt. Best transfer it to your saddle bag.”

Mailman was a communications carrier for their contact at the CIA.

Cassie pulled the brown pouch from the box and transferred it to her bag.
 

“Heard our sheriff is sweet on you,” John added, a smile tugging on his lips.

She quirked her brow and picked up the box. “Thought you’d find it concerning, not amusing. Met the sheriff, have we?”

“Yes. I was one of those chosen for information exchange. He seems like an okay guy.” John was a gangly man in his fifties and always gave the impression that he was blasé about a lot of things. Wearing a light plaid short-sleeve shirt and khakis, he looked more like an indulgent uncle than a deadly assassin. “About time you have a man look after you.”

“Are you and Mac forming a Sheriff Stone club?” Cassie laughed. “Don’t get your hopes up. Trent may soon find out I’m not worth the trouble.”

John frowned at her. “Don’t say that, girl. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? Even in those farm overalls you insist on wearing, you can’t hide the beauty you are.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments. I know I’m easy on the eyes. That was the entire purpose I was created, remember?”

An awkward silence sprang between them.
 

“You’re more than who you once were, Scout,” John said quietly.

“I know,” Cassie replied with a sigh. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I never regret that I was born, and it’s not like we didn’t get rid of bad people.” She smiled. “We did.”

“We sure did,” John replied with nostalgia in his eyes.

Cassie wanted to laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation. They were reminiscing about killing criminals.

“And before you get sentimental on me, I’m outta here.” She backed up a couple of steps, turned, and walked out of his office.

“If you’re staying in town for a bit, I hope you got a cooler!” John hollered after her.
 

“Having lunch at Millie’s. Mac sent me with a cooler to put his meat order on ice.” Cassie threw over her shoulder. She nodded to the cashier at the counter before using her body to push open the glass door. She held it open for an incoming customer before letting it swing shut. Skipping down the steps, she walked over to her SUV.
 

She opened the cargo area and dragged the cooler closer to transfer Mac’s order of ribs and prime steak. She hadn’t thought about her first kill in a while—an Albanian mob boss who preyed on sixteen-year-old and younger girls. He’d use them before tossing them into his human trafficking business. Although the CIA’s problem with him stemmed from his firearms smuggling, she’d been briefed more about his skin trade. John was able to infiltrate the Albanian mob and get a position on the boss’s personal security. That was how she was able to smuggle in the deadly picks hidden in her hair comb. Cassie didn’t need them because she was much stronger than the boss, even if he’d been overweight.
 

His eagerness to fuck her had been his downfall. He had pushed her on the bed and had been fumbling with his belt when she struck, driving all the picks to the side of his neck. One of them struck his jugular. He clutched at her and she stared at him partly in shock.
 

Her first kill.

Covered in his blood, she watched the hatred in his eyes dim until the life left him.

“Cassie?”

Startled out of her memory, she straightened and looked to her right. Trent stood there, his smile fading as he absorbed her expression.

“What’s wrong?” He took a step closer.
 

She schooled her features. “What do you mean?”

A flash of irritation crossed his face. She was getting used to that look. It seemed she brought it out of him quite often. Why he put up with her, she didn’t understand.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I hope that’s not a reaction to seeing me,” Trent stated darkly.

Cassie shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just something I remembered.” She changed the subject. “Are you here to take me to lunch at Millie’s again? You’re becoming her favorite person.”

Since the night Trent left her with an ultimatum never to hide from him again, she had seen him five times in the past week. Two of those times, they had lunch at Millie’s. Those three nights he visited her at the ranch, they’d talked on the porch after dinner. The first night was awkward. At least on her part. She couldn’t talk much about her past. Nothing about her life was normal or easy conversation, so Trent did most of the talking. He talked about his mom and sister back in Texas. His sister was married to her high school sweetheart, who was now a successful lawyer. Trent pulled out his wallet to show her a picture of his niece and nephew.

“Uh, they’re cute.” Cassie pasted a smile on her face, but Trent was not fooled.

He flipped his wallet close and smiled wryly. “Not your thing, huh?”

“I’m sorry. I’m not used to this.”

He chuckled. “Well, we can get to the good part later.”

The second and third night was a lot easier. Trent still did most of the talking, telling her about his work in SWAT training, but he never mentioned his time as a D-boy. She talked some about Lucas, about how he’d usually take the blame for her, like when she had scared the living daylights out of their housekeeper by bringing home an eastern king snake. Long and short of it, that was the first and last time they had a housekeeper. Colt learned very quickly that ex-military employees were the best company for his new wards.
 

“Lord, you were a brat,” Trent chuckled and shook his head in disbelief.

“I didn’t see how we needed a housekeeper. Lucas and I could clean the house ourselves. Sure, she was vetted by the agency and had done some work for other operatives who kept houses stateside, but seriously, her cooking sucked.”

“Is that why Mac took on the culinary duties?”

“Yup.”

“And then Millie arrived a year later and stayed at the annex.” Cassie smiled in recollection. “I put that snake in her bedroom and she marched from the annex to this house and banged on our door. She handed me my snake back and told me to fucking grow up.”

“And you fell in love with her.”

“I sure did.”

Trent peered at her closely, making her self-conscious. “I see now what’s going on with you, hellcat.”

Cassie looked at him, confused. “What?”

“The shotgun to my face, remember? You need people to prove themselves before you can trust them.”

She had to chew on that thought for a while. “Is that so unreasonable?”

“Not really. First impressions are okay.” Trent reached out and grasped her chin gently, bringing her face closer to his. “But it takes time to know a person.” He brushed her lips lightly with his own. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Is that your way of knowing me?” she whispered back.

“You betcha.”

They usually ended their nights with heated kisses, but he never took it further. He left her aching and wanting. She didn’t know whether to admire or be frustrated by his restraint. She knew he was waiting for her to open up, to make their connection more personal, rather than simply physical.
 

She’d been noticing how he filled out his sheriff’s uniform lately. The rippling of muscles of his broad back and the flexing of his biceps beneath those short sleeves had her fantasizing about what his bare skin would feel like underneath her fingers. Normally, the sight of him would bring an immediate throb between her legs, but today, thinking of that slobbering mob boss and the blood spurting from the side of his neck didn’t exactly set the mood.

“There’s that look again,” Trent muttered. His hand came up to brush a strand from her face. “Tell me.”

She had never talked to him about her life as an assassin, only about her time at the ranch. Maybe it was time she shared some of the darkness that would always remain a fabric of her past.
 

“Do you remember the first person you ever had to kill?” she asked.

She couldn’t explain the expression that came over Trent’s face. Pity? No. It was compassion. Her heart stuttered and she couldn’t explain why.

“Oh, Cassie,” Trent said roughly as he pulled her into his arms. His lips trailed her jaw. “I do,” he whispered into her ear. “It’s not something you’ll ever forget.” Minutes past and they just stood there. Finally, he raised his head. “Wanna talk about it? I made some sandwiches for us. We could head over to the park.”

Cassie had to grin. “That’s no park. Just a simple patch of grass with the town monument.”

“There’s a canopy of trees over a bench.” He stared at her, still holding her close. “The humidity backed down some today and there’s a light breeze. I hope Millie won’t mind if we skip her diner.”

“Trent, you know I can’t tell you—”

“I don’t need the details,” he replied abruptly. “It was a part of your life, Cassie. I want to know what haunts you.”

“It doesn’t really matter.”

His hands cupped her face. “You haven’t lost your humanity, Cassandra. I can see it bright and clear in your eyes. I don’t know how you’ve managed it. I could only imagine how your childhood was. But I thank God those bastards haven’t turned you into a stone-cold person.”

Killer. You can say it, Trent.

“I haven’t lost my twin. It helps,” Cassie whispered. Which was why Matt could be so cold. Which was why Piper seemed to have lost her way.

“So how does pastrami on rye and a couple of ice-cold root beers sound?” Trent asked suddenly, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

“Sounds like a date, Sheriff.”

*****

Trent slipped his hand through Cassie’s and linked their fingers together. He tugged her beside him as they walked to his pickup. He glanced at her, noticing a bemused look on her face.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

Her eyes widened as if caught off guard. She looked away but not before he caught the beginnings of a smile on her face.
 

“Nothing.” She glanced back at him, her face a bit flushed.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Cassie?” He held up their joined hands
.
Please say no
, because he liked holding her hand in public and showing everyone he had staked his claim.
 

“No, it’s not that,” she replied. “Uh, I’m actually surprised I like holding your hand.”

Trent quirked a brow as relief swept through him.

“I’ve never held hands with a guy before,” she added.
 

“Never?” They reached his truck and he reluctantly let go of her hand. He opened the door and grabbed the bag of sandwiches and the cans of root beer.

He nodded over to the bench on a sidewalk shaded by a row of old oak trees.

“It’s a weird feeling when you know you can whoop a guy’s ass and he’s holding your hand.”

Trent burst out laughing. “I’m sure you can whoop my ass right now, Cassie. So how am I different?” He sat on the bench and gestured for her to do the same.
 

“I’m still trying to figure that out, and for the record, whether you beat me or not remains to be seen. Something tells me you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve.” She angled her eyes at him teasingly. “Maybe I like your bossiness. And you’ve seen me at my craziest and still want me. Those are points in your favor.”

“Maybe I’m crazier than you,” Trent said, handing her a pastrami sandwich. Then he flicked the tab on the root beer can and handed that to her too.

“Not possible.”

“We all have our quirks and secrets.”

“I think I have more than a quirk.” Her hazel eyes searched his. “But you don’t treat me like a freak.”

“Cassandra,” Trent sighed. He put his sandwich down, got off the bench, and crouched in front of her.

“What are you doing?” Cassie shrieked in a panic.

“Calm down,” Trent chuckled, knowing what had just flashed through her mind. “It’s too soon to ask you to marry me, and you’d probably smack me if I did.”
 

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“Seriously, babe. Breathe.” He tried not to laugh again as she took a visible inhale. Cassandra Reed was one of a kind and the most commitment phobic woman he had ever met. He’d ran the Cassie puzzle through his head for weeks, trying to figure out if it was the chase that kept him coming back for more. But no matter how he looked at it, it had nothing to do with the challenge. It was her. All her. The many facets of her personality never ceased to amaze him. She sparkled despite her prickliness and sass. He knew they were defense mechanisms because she thought she was a freak. And that crushed his fucking heart. He didn’t pity her, but he was fiercely protective of a woman who could theoretically flatten him in seconds. The contrariness that was Cassie Reed gave them a compelling dynamic he knew would never get old. The fact that she was beautiful was simply a bonus to a very addictive package.