Piper
It was three a.m. before I darkened the doors of my rented efficiency apartment on the wrong side of town, Atlanta. Moving three states away had seemed like the right thing to do after sitting at a desk for months after my fiancé Jake Bishop’s death and then finally taking a leave of absence to chase down Julio Varga.
I’d made the decision to use my savings and some of the money Jake had left me to avenge his death, but after a year of searching, I’d finally landed on Varga’s last known location, a small suburb just outside Atlanta. I’d heard Tino’s Bar was a favorite spot, so taking a job as a bartender had seemed the perfect cover. The appearance of two of Chavez’s men last night had been a welcome gift. That was until I’d realized Cade Montgomery was somehow connected to them.
Cade. My best friend growing up as a teen living in our foster home. He’d also been my future, or so I’d thought until he’d left for California and never returned or tried to reach me. I’d moved on, Jake had captured my heart and hadn’t let go—but apparently I was having a hard time remembering that.
Cade had set those scumbags free, not caring that they’d killed two men. It had been perfectly clear what side of the law his loyalties lay, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that he’d changed so drastically from the boy I’d known and loved all those years ago.
I’d seen him playing pool with them, but they hadn’t seemed friendly—more business associates than old pals hanging out. When I’d pulled my gun on them, his eyes had begged me to understand, but I couldn’t. Why had he interfered? The Cade Montgomery I knew would never walk on the wrong side of the law, so why did it appear that he was now?
A basic Internet search was all it took to find out that he worked for Shadow Force MMA Gym which he’d opened two years ago with a friend, Levi Slater. A little deeper search showed he’d been let go after a scandal at the DEA. There wasn’t a lot of information in the article, but it appeared that Cade and Levi had been involved in a mission that had killed six DEA agents. That was it.
My stomach lurched at the idea that Cade had somehow been involved in the deaths of the men he’d been sworn to protect and serve. But it would explain his flirting with the criminal side of things the night before.
I clicked on Shadow Force MMA Gym and saw that Cade had a match the next night—well, actually that night since it was close to four in the morning. No better time to do a little snooping, especially since my stint at Tino’s was done. Apparently Tino wasn’t a big fan of gun-toting women as bartenders. Who knew?
I slept a few hours, and then used the rest of the day to try digging into Cade’s past and what had happened at the DEA. But there was nothing. I did discover that the guy he owned the gym with, Levi Slater, had been his captain at the DEA and was let go at the same time. The pictures on their websites showed two guys who looked more like members of a motorcycle gang than former clean-cut law-abiding men.
I hated to admit it was a good look on Cade.
Since I was going to a den of leather and chains, I felt it best to look the part. I pulled out a pair of leather-like leggings, pairing them with black wedge booties and a green blouse with a plunging neckline. The green brought out my eyes, but that wasn’t the reason I was wearing it. I needed to look as if I belonged. It wasn’t like I was trying to impress anyone.
I snorted to myself. Of course, I wanted to have Cade eating out of my hands. It would be great for my bruised pride to watch him drool all over himself, while I told him to take a hike. I briefly wondered what my life would have been like if Cade had come back for me all those years ago.
I immediately shut down those thoughts.
I never would have met Jake, and even though losing my fiancé in such a violent manner had nearly killed me, I wouldn’t undo the two years we’d had together. Jake Bishop was an amazing man, and I was privileged to have known and loved him.
And if Cade Montgomery was harboring his killer, there would be no mercy for him. No one would get in my way in my pursuit of justice. No one. Not even my former best friend.
The tight ensemble I’d chosen for the night left little room to hide my weapon, so I stuck it inside my clutch. My FBI-issued piece was in my gun safe at my house back in Virginia. This was my personal weapon since the FBI didn’t take too kindly to the use of their property when you were a rogue agent.
Okay, I wasn’t really rogue. I’d taken a leave of absence. A very long leave of absence after Jake had been killed by Varga over two years ago. I’d tried the desk-jockey thing, but I was going stir-crazy knowing Jake’s killer was still out there.
Jake had left everything to me. He’d had his will changed when he’d asked me to marry him, three months before he’d been gunned down, along with a letter explaining what he wanted me to do with the money he’d left me.
I had yet to do any of those things. Travel. Buy frivolous things. Find love. I was especially ignoring that one!
Instead, I’d set out to find his killer, which some of my friends and co-workers thought made me a little unhinged. But I wasn’t going to rest until Varga was either in custody or dead. Preferably the latter.
I glanced at my hair, the bouncy, cinnamon waves a stark contrast to what I was wearing. It softened the outfit, but the red lipstick I traced on my lips gave the look the edge it deserved.
I slid into the driver’s seat of my 1975 Ford Mustang convertible, its shiny black body a force to be reckoned with. It wasn’t exactly a girl’s car, or so I’d been told, but I loved the power it held under the hood. I wasn’t a girly girl anyway.
Don’t get me wrong—I appreciated a beautiful designer dress or handbag here and there. But I was more comfortable in a bargain-store tank top with a gun in my hand.
Shadow Force MMA was just down the street in an old strip mall that appeared to have been remodeled. There were several spots in this area of town that showed a glimpse of rehabilitation. The city was certainly trying to give the area a facelift, but the gang activity and high crime rates were still a deterrent to most young professionals and families.
I pulled to the front of the building, where a valet gave me his hand when I opened the door, and—yeah, I know; valet parking at an MMA gym? Apparently, that night’s fight was a big deal.
The valet whistled under his breath. “She sure is a beauty, ma’am.”
“She is.” I smiled genuinely. “Take care of her, okay?”
“My pleasure, ma’am. You ever opened her up on the highway?”
I winked as I walked away, my hips swaying just a smidge more than usual. “Sure have. It’s exhilarating.”
The valet stood inside the door of my car, his mouth hanging open. I laughed, feeling lighter and freer than I had in months. Harmless flirting was fun, and it’d been a long time since I’d practiced it.
The place was already packed as I entered through the front doors, paying the fee to the large man busting out of his T-shirt who stood just past the front desk. He stamped my hand and directed me to a red carpet that had been rolled out, leading the way through the reception area and past the rows of punching bags and what looked to be a state-of-the-art workout room. The carpet led to a large warehouse-like space, where a circular mat with fencing around it sat in the middle surrounded by rows of folding chairs for spectators.
The atmosphere was electric—people yelling at the two figures going at each other in the center of the ring. Blood was dripping from a cut on one of the men’s foreheads, creating a red mask over his face. He was slightly leaner than the other guy, a man who almost looked like a younger version of Cade, with longish blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He sported a cut over one eye, but otherwise seemed to be in far better shape than his opponent.
I found a single seat near the front—the perks of being there alone. I assumed this fight was a precursor to the main event, which boasted Cade Montgomery and Derek Mercado. Standing on the outside of the ring were two men shouting directions to each fighter. One of them was yelling something to the Cade lookalike. I recognized him from the website. Levi Slater.
“Look alive, Blake. No time like the present to take him down. You got it?” Levi was well-built, probably a fighter himself, with brown hair and light-colored eyes, and if I wasn’t immune to the opposite sex after Jake’s death, I might have found him after the match and asked him out for a drink.
Who was I kidding? I certainly wasn’t immune to Cade last night. I shook off the thought, returning my attention to the fight.
Blake cracked his neck from side to side and threw himself at his opponent—Max Winters—sweeping his legs from under him. He climbed on top, pummeling Winters in the face until I saw him reach out his hand and tap the mat. The referee swooped in, pulling Blake off the guy and raising his hand in the air.
The crowd went wild, and I overheard the woman next to me talking to her friend, her southern accent thick and molasses-like.
“That’s Ryder Blake. He’s the rookie, but he certainly is delicious.” They both giggled, and I rolled my eyes. They were probably barely legal, their assets on full display for all to see. I glanced down at my own plunging neckline, and suddenly felt a bit self-conscious. Guess I wasn’t one to be talking.
The ref announced that there would be a ten-minute break before the main event. I pulled out my phone and saw I’d missed a message from William Fuller, my foster father. I’d never called him Dad, even though since my own parents had died when I was seven, Will was the closest thing I’d had to a father growing up.
I’d bounced around from group homes to foster homes, until I’d landed at Will’s when I was twelve. Cade had arrived there a year later—a runaway Will had pulled off the streets. Since Cade was almost fifteen at the time, and close to aging out of the system, special circumstances were made for Will to take us both.
It probably had a lot to do with Will’s position at the FBI. He’d been taking runaways off the streets and housing them for years before we’d arrived. His wife had died as a result of one of his cases early in his career, and he’d carried on her dream to rescue foster children. Only his crazy schedule didn’t allow for young kids, so he took in teenagers. Since the system was overcrowded, and teenagers were the hardest to place, everyone was grateful to Will for his intervention.
Haven’t talked to you in a while. You okay?
I sighed. Will was always worried about me, but finding Jake’s killer was something I had to do. Will may not agree, but he understood. He’d loved Jake like a son.
I’m fine. I’ll call tomorrow.
Be safe.
Always.
An announcer stood in the middle of the cage with a microphone, announcing that the fight was about to begin and giving recognition to the fight’s sponsors. I tucked my phone into my clutch purse where I’d hidden my gun.
“In the blue shorts and gloves, from Marietta, Georgia, Derek Mercado!” The crowd went wild, women screaming and shouts of, “Mercado! Mercado!” rising up around the room. The announcer waited for the raucous to die down, and my eyes were glued to the man who stepped inside the cage.
Cade.
“In the black shorts with red gloves, from Atlanta, Georgia, and reigning light-heavyweight champion—Cade Montgomery!”
I’d thought the crowd response was loud for Derek Mercado, but the roar in the arena was deafening when Cade lifted his hands in the air. He gave a walk around the cage, his eyes trained on the back wall. I was relieved he didn’t see me, since I wasn’t quite ready to have his attention.
A referee dressed in all black stepped to the middle where both fighters met. He mumbled something to them that I couldn’t hear, then the guys touched gloves and retreated back to their coaches. I noticed Levi was Cade’s coach, just as he was for Blake.
Cade looked fierce, his mouthguard moving around as he focused on Levi’s words. Then the bell rang. Cade gave a quick nod and rushed to the center of the mat.
The two men faced off, circling each other like two lions in the wild, looking for the other’s weakness. Derek struck first, his gloved fist hitting Cade’s. Cade took a step back, a taunting smile curving his lips. Then he winked and made the come-hither motion with his glove.
That did it.
Derek lunged, but Cade was prepared for it, stepping to the side. His foot shot out for a quick liver kick, and Derek lost his balance. Cade fell on top, his fists unrelenting as he landed blow after blow to Derek’s face. Blood sprayed from Derek’s nose, arching out across the mat, the pristine white marred with crimson. Derek’s hands went up to protect his face, but Cade was too quick.
The whistle blew, and the referee pulled Cade off the guy. As if coming out of a trance, Cade stared at the ref’s face, blinking repeatedly. Derek lay still on the mat. The referee lifted Cade’s hand as a doctor, and Derek’s coaches rushed to his side.
“The winner by knockout is Cade Montgomery!” The crowd went crazy, stomping the bleachers and shouting his name.
I watched as Derek’s legs started to move and then his hands. Finally, he sat up slightly, shaking his head. His trainers helped him stand to his feet, and the crowd applauded, cheering him on. Derek and Cade met in the middle, bumping their gloves then wrapping each other in a friendly man-hug.
Guys were so weird. One minute they were pummeling each other’s faces in, and the next, they’re hugging like nothing ever happened.
Derek left the cage, and Cade walked the circle, stopping at each set of chairs and raising his arms in victory. My section was the last one he reached. His hands raised over his head, he shouted a triumphant roar. Then his eyes landed on me, standing there, clapping, my gaze raking over him checking for injuries. Cade’s roar stopped short as if cut off by an outside force. He lowered his arms and gazed at me, confusion on his face as if looking for an answer to his unspoken question.
The announcer touched his shoulder, and Cade looked away. And I suddenly wondered if this was a good idea. That gaze had undone me, and all the years apart had melted away. Cade was the only person in my whole life who’d been able to shatter my defenses with just one look. I’d have to make sure my walls were extra high and doubly thick if I was going to walk away from this with my heart intact.