Iron Willed Warrior (Last Refuge Protectors #5)

7. Cole

CHAPTER SEVEN

Cole

The next shot slid down even more smoothly than the first couple. I still wanted a cigarette, but whiskey was the next best thing. Took the edge off enough.

Of course, several hours of cooling my temper had helped with that, too.

Brynn was across from me, tracing a finger around the rim of her empty shot glass. Conversation and laughter continued, the rest of the bar oblivious to the two of us.

“Another?” I asked.

She nudged her glass across the table. Amber liquid splashed, filling the small cup to the brim.

Somehow, we had to get to know each other. But with this woman, I didn’t even know where to start.

“Just gonna sit there and drink me under the table?” I asked.

“At least we’re not arguing.”

A smirk tugged at my lips. “This is true.”

One of us would have to open up first. Seemed that it was gonna be me. We’d already had two disastrous attempts at making a first impression. So far, Brynn and I hadn’t made it through one conversation without someone getting pissed. But maybe the third time was the charm.

After Brynn had stormed out of Keira’s house earlier, River had taken me to Dean’s place with strict instructions. Fix this . As if this whole debacle was my fault. Well, calling her honey had been all me. Not my finest moment.

But one thing had kept rattling around in my head all afternoon.

They’d found the head of Stillwater.

They knew his name. The man ultimately responsible for what had happened to Luciana and her daughter. I wanted him bad. Wanted him dead , if I could help it. This op would get me there.

And I’d meant what I said, too. It was a terrible idea for Brynn to go undercover against the head of Stillwater by herself. This was going to be a dangerous mission. Fatal if our covers were blown. But Stillwater wouldn’t just make Brynn disappear. They’d make her suffer first. Could I really let her face that alone if nobody else was going to step up?

Pouring us each another shot, I thought, Here goes nothing .

I opened my mouth and started talking. “I was wounded in Afghanistan. Little over five years ago. My Ranger unit was clearing the way for a convoy.” I kept the details vague because it was classified. Plus, it still messed with my head to talk about this, even years later. “We were ambushed.”

She said nothing. But I had her attention. Brynn was completely focused on me.

“I was airlifted to Germany. Drugged up and in-and-out of consciousness for a while. When I came to, I found out I’d lost my left leg below the knee, and two of my teammates were KIA.”

“I’m sorry.”

I nodded. “Trust me, that’s not the worst of it. My unit got blamed for missing the signs of the impending attack. My dead friends got blamed, even though it was all BS. People covering their asses and pointing fingers. That was vicious enough. But while I was in recovery, trying to get my shit back together, I heard rumors about what had really happened.” I tossed back my shot, squeezing the glass, then forced myself to set it aside before I broke the thing. “We’d had a CIA officer working with us. He’d withheld information about insurgents in the area to protect a fucking source . Leaving us twisting in the breeze.”

“Why didn’t the CIA officer delay the convoy? Or redirect it? He could’ve come up with some excuse to avoid revealing his source.”

“I’ve asked myself that a hundred times. Best I can tell, it just wasn’t convenient. He figured we had a 50/50 chance of making it through and decided to roll the dice instead of troubling himself. Afterward the CIA spook was reassigned, but he kept his job.”

She sucked in a breath. “That’s unbelievable.”

“You’re tellin’ me. After that, I was done. Couldn’t get that medical discharge fast enough.” So much for the career I’d spent fifteen years building. I’d felt betrayed. Broken .

Brynn poured us each another shot. “I see why you don’t like Feds. You don’t hold it against River or Trace for being ex-CIA?”

“No, because Trace got burned in his own way. And River was smart enough to leave.” I grunted as the whiskey slid down my throat. “I’m not a fool. I realize it’s valid to protect avenues of intelligence. But the callousness. The pure disregard for the lives of men and women who’d devoted their lives to their country. Not something I can easily forget.”

“Can’t blame you.” Brynn leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Some things should be sacred. And when you learn they’re not, that somebody you trusted betrayed you… It’s a hard lesson.” She laughed darkly. “Want to know my official co ver for resigning from the FBI? That I’m disgusted with its failure to stop Stillwater. But there’s a lot of truth behind that story.”

Brynn looked around cautiously before she went on. The occupants of the nearby tables had moved on and left empty glassware behind. There was a crowd over by the bar and the dart boards, but this area was deserted.

I rubbed my jaw, waiting for her to explain.

“I was close friends with one of the FBI special agents who turned out to work for Stillwater.”

My brows shot up.

“He was involved in the attempt to kidnap the lieutenant governor. He lied to my face countless times. Hurt people I care about, plus who knows how many others. I—” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed. “Not saying it’s the same as your experience. But I know what betrayal feels like.”

I studied her, feeling like I was getting a real sense of Brynn Somerton for the first time since we’d met.

I tugged my pack of cigarettes from my back jeans pocket and set it on the table. It was getting late, and that meant it was almost tomorrow. Close enough. “I could use a smoke.”

“Fine by me.”

We got up, gathered our things, and I left the remainder of the whiskey bottle behind the bar.

Brynn’s walk was steady and confident. No sign she’d just matched me taking five shots. Or was it six? Plus her beers.

Damn Marines. They could absolutely hold their liquor.

As for me, I was a touch more wobbly than usual. Maybe it was the long hours I’d spent on my prosthesis today. That didn’t slow me down when shit got real, but the aches did build up. So I took my time, and Brynn seemed content to keep a leisurely pace by my side.

Once we were outside, she and I tugged on our coats. Our breaths made puffs of white in front of our faces. Brynn rubbed her hands together as I flicked my lighter open and lit up.

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply.

“Enjoying that?” she asked.

“Hell yeah, I am. Only get one a day. I’d better enjoy it.”

When I opened my eyes, Brynn plucked the cigarette from my lips. She brought it to her mouth and took a drag.

“Be my guest,” I said.

She shrugged one shoulder. “Sorry. You made it look so tempting.”

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Also, I might be just a tiny bit drunk.”

Laughter burst from my chest, surprising me. “Glad I’m not the only one.”

I was already feeling loose and comfortable after the whiskey. Then seeing her lips where mine had just been…

Don’t get ideas , I told myself. Good thing she didn’t like me. Because this woman would be very hard to resist.

Brynn took the cig from her mouth and held it up. I parted my lips, and she placed it between them. She was careful to keep her fingers from brushing me.

“Let’s take a walk,” she said. “I’ll tell you more about the op.”

“Sounds good.” The cigarette bobbed as I spoke.

This was the calm before the storm. So much had built up to this moment, and like an idiot, I’d nearly let my temper interfere. If I wanted the head of Stillwater, I had to find a way to connect with Brynn. Partners .

That was the only way for us to go into the upcoming mission and come out of it alive.