Piper
MMA fighter. Gym owner. Former DEA agent turned criminal?
I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but I definitely got the feeling there was more going on than met the eye.
I was mortified that Cade had found me the way he did, trussed-up and beaten. Defeated. I wasn’t a victim. And it bothered me that he’d seen me as one. As someone who needed taking care of. I’d fought my entire adult life to be in control and in charge. Somehow, I needed to turn the tables and get the upper hand once again.
As we walked back through the living area, I looked around, noticing an expensive kitchen, multiple bedrooms—or so I figured with the closed doors—and a living room with state-of-the-art entertainment equipment. The place looked like a penthouse suite in a lush hotel in midtown, not a dorm setup in a gym in the slums of Atlanta.
“Do you all live here?”
“No. Well, Ryder does. But the rest of us have apartments or homes elsewhere. This space is convenient, though, for times when we need to be near the facility or we have a long night and want to stay over.”
“Why would MMA fighters need to be near the facility?”
“We have our reasons.”
“You’re exasperating.”
“We’ll tell you as much as we can. Until then, all I ask is that you hold your judgment until we do.”
Exiting into the lobby of the gym, we walked across to another set of glass doors that mirrored the ones we’d just left. An exposed brick wall spanned the tight area where another biometric scanner, like the one Cade had used to get into the living space, was attached next to an iron door. He scanned his palm print, and the door clicked open, spilling us into a lavish office.
Once again, I didn’t understand the level of security they had here. It was a bad neighborhood, but biometric scanners? That was some serious technology.
A narrow hall held several doors, and we entered into a conference room through two glass French doors to our left. A kidney-bean-shaped table sat in the middle with large, black leather chairs surrounding it. There were four guys sitting there, all who looked as if they could have graced the cover of any magazine in the country.
I recognized Levi, Cruz, and Ryder, but there was another man, dark-haired, whom I’d not been introduced to yet. As if reading my mind, Cade motioned to the guy.
“Oscar, this is Piper Collins. Piper, Oscar Cortada.” Oscar stood, extending his hand for me to shake, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled at me. His smile lit up his entire face. It was almost disconcerting.
“Nice to meet you all. Thank you for tonight. I’m pretty sure you saved my life.”
“You’re welcome.” Levi sat at the head of the table. An empty chair sat next to him, which I found odd as it looked as if it had been purposely left vacant. “Want to tell us why the fixer for the Chavez Cartel was at your place tonight?”
With all the excitement—and, quite frankly, the fear—from the last couple of hours, I hadn’t had time to think of a convincing reason for Mario Lacosta, the fixer for the Chavez family, having been in my apartment ready to take care of a “little problem,” as he’d called me, except for my connection to the FBI. Until these guys told me what they were up to, I had no intention of sharing that information with them.
Lacosta had hit me over the head when I’d returned home, and when I’d woken, he’d already taped me to the chair. He’d asked repeatedly who I worked for and what I was doing in Atlanta. Apparently my little stint with holding up two of Chavez’s guys at gunpoint hadn’t gone over well. I’d known I was taking a risk, but instinct had kicked in. Plus, seeing Cade had put me on edge. I hadn’t thought things through and had just reacted.
Yep, I was blaming him. Seemed as good an idea as any others.
“I, um, well, I’m not sure.”
Levi gave me a look that told me he knew way more than he was letting on. But I wasn’t about to spill the beans. “Why don’t you tell me what you think happened?”
Levi smirked, one corner of his mouth pulling up. I’m sure that smirk had women falling at his feet. As it was, the rebel sitting beside me who still had the ability to make my knees weak was the only one who’d done it for me since Jake’s death. I didn’t have room for more hunks in my life. Levi lifted a folder and began to read.
“Piper Jo Collins. Age thirty-one. FBI special agent for almost ten years—currently on an extended leave of absence. Owns a house in Bristow, Virginia, but is currently residing in Atlanta, Georgia. Fiancé, Jake Bishop, was killed in action two years ago by Julio Varga.”
His voice had softened just a bit when he mentioned Jake’s name, but I couldn’t help but stiffen. Cade’s hand reached for my thigh, and he gave it a small squeeze, as if to comfort me.
Levi lowered the folder and eyed me. “Do I need to go on?”
Damn. How did he get all of that information? My suspicions about this gym were growing, but I didn’t know where to start. Where they good guys or bad guys? Were they working with Chavez? I’d seen Cade with two of his men, but I had yet to find out why.
“No—that’s plenty. So, what do you want to know?”
“I’d like to know why Mario Lacosta was at your place tonight. Why Chavez feels like you’re a threat to him? If you’re on a leave of absence, this isn’t a case you’re working. My bet is that you’re after revenge.”
Pretty much hit the nail on the head, but I still wasn’t planning to tell him anything. He’d guessed it all. So, I shrugged.
Cade growled next to me, removing his hand. I missed the contact more than I wanted to admit. “Piper.”
“What? I have no idea who you guys are or what you do besides running fights. Why would I tell you anything? I don’t know you.” My questions were directed at the team as a whole, but my eyes were glued to Cade’s. I saw the hurt in them when I made the declaration that I didn’t know him. But I didn’t. It had been twelve years since we’d seen each other. That was a long time.
“Fair enough.” Levi stood, going to the conference-room door and closing it. When he rounded the table back to his spot, he sat down and nodded at Cade.
I heard Cade’s inhalation of breath before he started.
“We don’t just run an MMA gym.”
“Duh.” I said it under my breath, but Cade still heard it, and I saw the smile that tried to crack his serious expression.
“We can’t tell you everything. But what I can tell you is that we work undercover doing the missions others in our government can’t.”
Like mercenaries? That didn’t make me feel much better.
“Our missions are primarily centered around the drug cartels in the southeast. We’re also searching for a mole inside the DEA. Our number one target right now is Chavez and those associated with him—including Julio Varga.”
“Who do you work for?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Then why should I believe you?”
My temper rose, my insides churning and my heart rate galloping like a racehorse. I was already feeling on edge, since Cade had seen me at my most vulnerable, a fact I’d yet to process fully. I’d had to depend on someone else to get me out of a dangerous situation, and although I wasn’t exactly a lone ranger, I was a little piqued.
Cade shrugged. “Because at one time you knew me better than anyone else. Do you really think I could work for a guy like Chavez?”
I had known him better than anyone, and he’d known me—everything about me—my insecurities, my fears, my hopes, my dreams. Dreams I’d thought we’d shared. And then he’d shattered them all when he hadn’t returned.
Only, he had returned for me, and my foster father had lied to him and told him I never wanted to see him again. I shook my head. I didn’t know what to do with that information. It changed everything about the past twelve years. But that was a problem for another day.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I didn’t know what else to say. Regardless of what I used to know about Cade, I didn’t know him now. I didn’t think he could ever work for Chavez, but I knew what I’d seen that night.
“I’m working undercover with Chavez’s men as the middleman, a broker—pairing Chavez with a buyer.”
“And what happens when that buyer wants his product?”
“He’ll get it. For now. We have to sometimes let go of the smaller fish in order to catch the bigger ones.”
“But that’s more drugs that are going to the streets.”
“Possibly. But the ends have to justify the means.”
“I don’t know that I agree with that.”
And at one time, he hadn’t either.
Cade shrugged. “Unfortunately, that’s just the way it is sometimes. We do our best to watch those guys after the drugs leave, in order to track them down the road or through other means. Usually it’s a tip to the DEA.”
I understood what they were doing and how they had to go about it, but it sounded a lot like vigilante justice to me. Unless they were working for the government somehow. But who?
A niggle of something I’d overheard right before I’d left the FBI tickled my memory, but it was gone before I could grab onto it.
Plus, it wasn’t like I was any better. Wasn’t I in Atlanta chasing down Varga myself apart from the FBI? Still, my plan was to hand him over to the authorities, not take him out myself, even if that sounded like a much more appealing idea.
“I need you to trust me, Piper.”
But could I?
At one time, there would have been no question. I would have trusted Cade with my life.
“What do you want to know?” I relented, at least for the moment.
“What do you want with Varga?”
I sighed, realizing that I really didn’t have a reason not to share this with them. If they were legit, then maybe we could help each other.
“As you know, Varga shot Jake. It was a mission gone bad. We don’t even know why Varga was in D.C. It’s not his territory. Jake got a call to investigate some activity going on down at the Wharf. There are quite a few boat clubs and restaurants. Rumor had it that Varga was bringing in some serious product off a boat that night. We called the DEA, but they were tied up and could only send a couple of guys. So Jake led a team down there to see if we could intercept.”
I squirmed in my seat, all too aware of the eyes trained on me. This wasn’t a story I enjoyed telling—the emotions, the heartbreak, the grief all came roaring back, and I was transported to that night, helpless to do anything to stop Varga from pulling that trigger.
“I was in the van, listening to their comms. Once we picked him up, I’d work with the local authorities to make sure everything was clean. Jake was in position just as the speedboat approached. He’d made a joke, right before telling the guys to move in once Varga had docked. The DEA agents went in first. There was so much yelling and screaming. Varga had several women with him whom he’d picked up to sell in the city. Apparently, he’d had a buyer for the drugs and the women. Varga shoved one of the women at the DEA agent, while the other one moved to push the other girls out of the way. Jake stepped up, gun raised, and shouted for Varga to drop his weapon. Varga whirled around and shot him center mass.”
I didn’t tell them about what I’d done after the shots had been fired. I didn’t tell them about the months of reliving that in my dreams every single night—the lack of sleep, the weight loss, the heart-wrenching grief.
When I finished, the room was quiet, and Cade’s hand was squeezing mine. I hadn’t even realized he was holding it.
Levi cleared his throat before speaking. “So, you followed Varga here? Why Atlanta?”
“I took two months off and then returned to desk duty. I couldn’t just sit there knowing that Varga was out walking free. They’d lost him that night when local PD showed up. There was so much confusion. Our communication channels got crossed somehow, and the whole thing just went to hell. Anyway, I couldn’t handle sitting at a desk knowing I could be doing something to find Varga, so I took an extended leave of absence over a year ago and started searching. Since I wasn’t inside the FBI anymore and couldn’t use those resources, it took longer to trace Varga to Chavez. When I found that link, I found Varga’s Atlanta address and stumbled upon the information that he hung out at Tino’s.”
I’d been thrilled to find that little connection, and I’d had no idea that Cade also frequented the place.
“It took some time to convince Tino to give me a job and get the fake IDs. Lot of good they did for me—since I’m assuming it didn’t take much for Chavez to find out my real identity. When I moved down here, I went straight to his home. The place had been ransacked, so I figured he was long gone. It was only my second night at Tino’s when Cade and Chavez’s men showed up.”
“Your cover was too thin. All we had to do was search Piper and FBI, and the story about Jake’s death popped right up with your picture.” Ryder turned a computer screen to me, showing me the evidence of my stupidity.
“I didn’t have much time. Or help, for that matter.” I leveled my gaze on Levi. I knew I had to make my play or they’d block me from this mission, and I’d have to run back to Virginia no further along than I was. That wasn’t going to happen.
“I want in on this. I’ve been chasing this guy for two years.” Cade started to protest, but I raised my hand and kept my eyes on Levi. I got the feeling he was the one in charge, but my guess was Cade was a close second.
“I want to help bring Varga in.”
Levi stared back, not giving anything away. I waited.
Then, Levi nodded.
“Thank you—”
Levi lifted a hand. “Before you thank me, Ms. Collins, you need to find out what it’s going to cost you.”
That sounded ominous. “What do you mean?”
Cade sighed loudly, removing his hand from mine. “What we do requires clearance and an end to your past life. You will have to give it all up—disgracefully, even—and commit to our organization. It’s not an easy path, Piper.”
Give up my past life? What did that even mean? Did I care? What else mattered besides catching Jake’s killer?
“I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Cade smiled grimly. “Levi and I are both former DEA. We were faulted with a mission that went bad, killing six of our teammates.”
“I read about it.”
“What you didn’t read is that Varga was the one responsible for that, not us. I’ll take the blame of trusting him, but we were let go in order to create a believable backstory.”
I was confused. Why would they need a backstory to own a gym?
“You’ll be released from the FBI. It won’t be amicable. This will go on your permanent record, and you won’t be able to tell Will.”
I’d be disgraced, and I couldn’t explain it to Will?
For a moment, I didn’t know if I could go through with it. Will was all I had left. He was my family.
A small voice whispered to me that that wasn’t necessarily true. Cade was back in my life. I refused to think that through, though. Whatever we had was long gone. There could never be a future for us. I wouldn’t risk my heart that way again.
Losing Jake had wrecked me. Losing Cade would kill me.
All I had left was finding Jake’s killer. It was what had fueled my existence for more than two years. I wasn’t giving up now, even if it meant the end to my career. I didn’t even know if I could ever go back to the FBI after being gone so long. The only reason they’d held on to my job was because of Will.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
“But Piper, you’ll lose any future you had with the FBI. Your career will be over.”
“It already is. Nothing else matters but finding Varga.”
Resignation crossed Cade’s face as he nodded to Levi.
“So it’s settled. Ryder, get to work on a backstory for Ms. Collins and gather all the necessary paperwork. Reach out to those in charge and get a rush on pushing her through. Cade, set her up in the guestroom until further notice. Until we know that Chavez won’t come for her again, she needs to stay close. And Ms. Collins—”
“Piper, please.”
“Piper, we’ll end the rental agreement for your current apartment. There’s no security there. If you become a member of this team, you can live on-site or find a place that has adequate security. I’d look at renting your home in Virginia or selling it. We’ll meet in the morning. Ten a.m. Sharp.”
And with those words, Levi was out of his chair and making his way to the door. He left the room with a terse, “Get some sleep.”
In just a few minutes, everything had changed. My life was no longer the same. I glanced at Cade who was sitting with his head low, his hands folded on the table. He looked exhausted, and it hit me that he probably was. He’d fought not one, but two fights that night and had been stabbed in the process. I looked at my watch. One in the morning.
I needed to say something to break the tension—apologize for dragging him into my mess.
“Look, Cade, I—”
“I’m sorry about your fiancé.” His voice was low and filled with sympathy, but also something else. Pain?
“How long were you together?”
I wanted to tell him that I’d waited on him. The years I’d spent looking over my shoulder, hoping he’d pop up in D.C. somewhere. I wanted to tell him that Jake had pursued me for a year before I’d relented. He’d worn me down with humor and friendship, and finally, I couldn’t help myself but fall in love with him.
And then there was the secret that I’d kept hidden in my heart. A secret I’d never admitted to anyone, not even myself. A secret that at that very moment was trying to raise its ugly head and make itself known.
I squashed that secret and straightened my shoulders.
“We dated nine months before he asked me to marry him. We’d been friends for over a year. He kept asking me out. I finally said yes.”
Cade’s face softened a little as he nodded. “It must have been hard to lose someone like that.”
Grief pierced my heart, and I inhaled deeply, trying to settle the emotions that rose up whenever I thought of Jake’s death. “It was. We were supposed to have been married three months later. Not only had I lost my best friend, but I’d also had to cancel all the wedding plans. Fortunately, it wasn’t going to be a big affair.”
I could feel the despair threaten to rise, the tears that burned the backs of my eyes. Cade must have sensed it too, since he pulled me into his arms. I wanted to resist. Really, I did. But as soon as his strong arms wrapped around me, my entire body relaxed into him.
Home.
He felt like home. One I’d never thought I’d have.
His hand stroked my hair, his warm breath tickling my ear.
And then I was no longer relaxed. An energy of a different kind hummed through me, making me want to draw closer to him—to press against him and see how we fitted all these years later.
With that thought, I pulled away.
“Thank you.”
I could see the disappointment on his face, but I wasn’t ready to trust him—not with my heart or my future. There were so many unanswered questions—first and foremost, who the hell he worked for and who I was going to be working for.
Cade walked me back to my room, stopping at the door. The comfort we’d shared had grown into something awkward and fumbling. I fiddled with the hem of my T-shirt as Cade stuck his hands in his pockets. We were like two kids on a first date waiting for the kiss good night.
But that couldn’t happen. My heart couldn’t afford to lose Cade. It would be better if we just stayed friends. Distant ones, even. Working together would be hard enough without putting romance in the midst of it.
I stuck my hand out to shake his. Cade looked at it as if it was a snake about to bite him. I kept it there. “Thank you. For saving my life and for tonight. I appreciate it.”
Cade quirked an eyebrow, a half smile stretching his lips. He bypassed the handshake and pulled me into a hug just like the one in the conference room. This time I stayed rigid, my back ramrod-straight. I would not give in to the feelings trying to break free from their prison.
Cade stepped back, his face clouded with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. He nodded once and turned to walk down the hall. I took notice that his room was the last one on the left.
Pushing inside the guestroom, I threw myself on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I was tired, bone-deep tired and weary, and yet, there was no way I was going to sleep.
I tossed and turned for an hour or more and finally got up. I went to my duffel bag, which had magically already been placed inside the room, and put my things away in the dresser that sat against the wall next to a small bathroom, hanging a couple of the dresses I’d brought and placing my shoes in the closet. I set my toiletries out on the bathroom counter, and then glanced at the clock.
It was half past two in the morning. Maybe if I worked out, I’d be tired enough to fall asleep. My body screamed at the thought, my muscles sore and my head still pounding. But I needed to work out this frustration, sore muscles or not. With that thought in mind, I pulled on my workout clothes and tennis shoes and snuck out to the gym. It wasn’t until the outer door to the dorm area closed behind me that I realized I had no way back inside. I didn’t have a keycard, and my handprint hadn’t been put in the system.
Nothing I could do about that, so I took in the rows of punching bags and the gloves that sat in a basket nearby and grabbed a pair that looked like they’d fit.
I faced the first bag in the row, testing its weight. Stretching my neck from side to side, I took a fighting stance and swung.
I’d fight Cade out of my system if it was the last thing I did.