Chased by Heather Ashley
I’m already pissedoff when I come to. My eyes crack open, and my whole skull throbs. I can’t believe some dickhead managed to catch me off guard. When I think about tonight, jealousy tears through me with a savage viciousness I don't think I've ever felt before, and it’s understandable how he snuck up on me. The memory of the kiss and the taste of Montana still on my lips helps me calm down. Her body against mine felt right, and it scares the fuck out of me because if I let myself, I could so easily fall. That's the last thing I want to do.
There's something soft under my head, and when my eyes manage to focus, I see a curtain of red draping around me and a pair of green eyes so full of concern my heart stutters. Montana's fingers gently brush the hair off my forehead. "Ro?" Her voice is soft and strained.
"Don't call me that," I say, but secretly I love her nickname for me. It's exactly why I can't let her get attached to calling me by it. Liking it too much might lead to more, and I already fucked up. Losing control earlier was a mistake. I wasn't observing our surroundings like I needed to, and because of it, this asshole got the drop on me.
It could've been so much worse. I try to sit up when I realize I should be making sure the guy's not still around, but when I move, the world spins, and I'm forced to lay back down on what I now realize is Montana's lap.
"Don't worry, no one's going to touch us," she says confidently, giving me a quick flash of the gun she's taken out of my holster and is brandishing in her shaking hand somewhere in the direction behind me. The tremor in her grip lets me know she's not nearly as confident as she sounds, but my chest swells with pride watching her step up.
Montana's not the kind of woman who would ever cower. While I know I'm going to be crushed with immense guilt later over not keeping my damn head in the game when it comes to her safety, something inside me cracks open at the fierce expression she wears now while our roles are reversed, and she's the one protecting me.
I doubt she'll be able to actually hit anyone with the gun if she tries, but it's still sexy as hell that she's willing to do whatever it takes to stay alive and keep me that way, too.
"Indy's going to be here any second," she says, and I think she's trying to reassure herself as much as she is me. Her gaze shifts somewhere behind me and I groan as I turn my head and the world spins. There’s a man in a waiter’s uniform standing off to the side but he doesn’t say anything. His face is pale and he’s looking around like he expects a monster to jump out of the shadows and drag him away.
“Who’s this?” I ask, turning slowly back to look up at Montana.
“Indy told me to call the restaurant and have someone come out and stand with me until you woke up or he got here.”
My hand goes to the back of my head as I slowly sit up, and this time the world stays where it's supposed to. I check her over, letting my eyes wander for a second longer than is necessary because it's such a relief to see her unharmed. Tonight could've gone in a horrifically worse way, and I'm not sure I'll ever stop being relieved that this was clearly meant as a message.
"You did good, Spitfire," I tell her, meaning every word. She handled the situation better than I would've expected. "I'll take this back now." I reach out and pluck the gun from her too-loose grip and do a quick scan of our surroundings.
“You can go,” I dismiss the waiter and he doesn’t bother saying anything before he skitters off, back to the safety of the well-lit restaurant.
"Do you think he's coming back?" Montana whispers like she's afraid if she speaks too loud, she might conjure the psycho out of the darkness that surrounds us on three out of four sides.
"I think he was sending a message."
She blinks at me since we're sitting at nearly the same level now that I'm upright. "What the fuck kind of message does attacking someone send? He couldn't just send a text or leave an anonymous rage comment on some internet forum?"
"He's letting us know—or you know—that he's watching and that he can get to you even when you think you've got protection."
"Well, that's not fucking terrifying at all," Montana mutters as she starts to tremble and her eyes dart around the parking lot.
The truly disturbing thing about all of this is how my gaze dips to her lips and how I want to pull her against me and shield her from the fucked up reality of what might be lying in wait in the night for her. If my willpower was starting to slip before, it's been fully renewed now. Getting hit over the head with what felt like a goddamn baseball bat will do that to a guy, especially when I should have seen it coming.
If I'd been paying attention to our surroundings and doing my job, I would've.
This thing between Montana and me has to stop. I have to stop it. When she looks at me with wide, fearful eyes, as if I'm the one she expects to comfort her and tell her everything's going to be okay, I want to give in. I know better, though. If the past is supposed to teach us about the future, then I know that path only leads to shattered hearts and souls left in ruin. I’ve gone through it twice before, and I won’t survive a third time.
I've got a job to do. I need to focus, and she's a dangerous distraction.
"He's not going to get the chance to get that close again." I run a hand through my hair, wincing when my fingers come away sticky with drying blood. There's only a dull throb in my skull now, and I don't feel like I have a concussion, so all in all, we got lucky.
"How do you know that? He came out of nowhere tonight fully prepared with a weapon and everything!" Montana's eyes were wide and a tiny bit frantic, so I lowered my voice to try and calm her down.
"Because I was slacking off tonight. It's the only reason he got the jump on me, and it's not going to happen again," I say gently, trying to lessen the sting of me putting space between us again.
It worked because Montana's eyes narrowed, and the wildness was gone from them replaced with pure fire. "Slacking off? Is that what you call sticking your tongue down my throat?"
Okay, she's pissed, and I get it. I'm angry, too. My heart's thundering in my chest, and I can feel my pulse in my skull, but the difference is I'm not angry at her. I'm mad as hell at myself, and more than that, I'm furious at the guy who took my sister—the one with the same MO as Montana’s stalker—and the girlfriend who cheated on me while I was deployed, for making me into what I am now.
I sigh heavily. "Yes, that's what I call it. Don't misunderstand—I've wanted to do that for a goddamn eternity, but it can't happen again for so many reasons. You want to fuck? I’m your guy, but I’m not capable of more. I'm sorry," I tell her, pushing to my feet and standing up on wobbly legs. The adrenaline is rushing out of my system and leaving me shaky, but it should pass in a few minutes, and I'll be good to go.
Indy pulls into the parking lot with exceptional timing then, breaking up the oppressive silence between Montana and me. The headlights from the SUV flash across the two of us, and I shield my eyes from the brightness with my arm. He stops a few feet away and jumps out, his usual casual stroll replaced with a purposeful stride and his gun out and in his hand.
He looks between us before his gaze shifts over my shoulder and out into the parking lot behind me. "Was it him?" he asks, returning his attention to me.
I nod once. "Sweep the lot and see if he left anything behind. I'll get her in the car."
"She is standing right here, and she is more than capable of getting herself to the fucking car," Montana snaps before stomping off to the SUV. I'm about to follow when Indy grips my arm and stops me. We both watch as she yanks the door open, crawls inside, and slams it shut.
"Jesus, what the hell did you do?" Indy mutters, eyeing me expectantly.
Fuck, why is this so awkward? I'm an adult, and if I want to kiss someone I'm attracted to, I'm not going to be ashamed of it. "Look, I got carried away. Seeing her with that guy pushed my buttons, and I might've kissed her." I hurry past that last part, rubbing the back of my neck and wincing when my fingers brush the huge lump behind my head. Indy's eyebrows raise up toward his hair before a slow smile spreads across his smug fucking face.
"Might've? I think you're doing it wrong if you don't know whether you did or didn't."
"Why are you like this?"
He chuckles, and I think what he really wanted to do was throw his head back and laugh at me, but at least he has some fucking restraint because this whole situation isn't something I'd laugh at. If Montana hears him, I'm about ninety-nine percent sure she'll be even more enraged than she already is.
"You're going to need to deal with that," he says, gesturing toward the SUV and completely ignoring my question.
"Noted. Now, you go check the place out. See if you spot any security cameras that Sebastian can grab footage from. It's dark as shit out here, so who knows what they might've caught, but it's worth a shot."
"And what are you going to do?" he drawls while he adjusts the grip on the gun he's still holding and looks around. Probably smart, considering I didn't hear the douchebag that hit me sneak up behind my back last time.
"Not take my eyes off Montana until we get the hell out of here. This guy's smarter than we thought. He's actively following her, and he's brazen. If he knew she’d be here tonight, we have to assume he knows where she’s staying. He can’t get to her at my place, but he's not afraid to strike out while she's in public. He's also willing to get up close and personal in private. We knew he was dangerous from the beginning, but I think we underestimated how much he enjoys playing this game. He's going to come back again and again until we either catch him or he gets what he wants, so until we capture him, we need to make sure one of us has eyes on her at all times."
"What are you thinking?" Indy asks, all of the earlier teasing about my drama with Montana gone from his expression.
"We’re driving back together and we’ll come grab my car tomorrow. My head’s fucking pounding and I don’t trust myself to drive right now. Then, we bring in Asher, so we have a solid rotation twenty-four hours a day. That way none of us are too exhausted to handle the shifts. Where she goes, two of us go with her at all times. We leave nothing to chance and give him no opportunity to attack her again while we hunt him like the fucking animal he is," I say as the familiar tunnel-like focus I get whenever I'm tracking down the scum of the earth like this guy starts to affect my senses.
The pain inside my skull is all but gone now and, while the skin feels tight at the back of my head where my blood is drying into my hair, it's nothing a shower won't fix.
"Alright." Indy nods, agreeing with me. "Ash will be a good fit on this one, and I bet he'll be happy to lend you his talents when you catch the guy, if you think that's the way you want to go."
If I used to be the law side of this operation, Asher is at the complete opposite end of the spectrum. Mobster blood runs in his veins, and he gives zero fucks about letting the beast he keeps chained up inside out for some fun whenever there's information we need or someone who's too unpredictable or fucked up to hand over to the cops. He was baptized in blood and raised on cruelty and bloodshed, but he turned his back on his family, and now he's using his particular skill set for good.
For the most part.
"I'll call Connor and set it up," I say as he starts to jog off into the dark, and I turn to walk toward the idling SUV with the very pissed off woman inside. My hand runs across my face as I take a breath before pulling the door open. I'm not sure how to handle a woman that's angry at me for ruining her date and then kissing the hell out of her before telling her it was a mistake.
All I do know is I need to figure it out before I get in this car, or she's likely to end up storming out into the dark without thinking it through. I can't handle the thought of that maniac out there getting his hands on her.
Sliding into the passenger seat, my whole body is tensed up like I'm about to step onto the motherfucking battlefield, not sit here quietly with Montana fuming in the back seat. Her anger seeps into my skin as her eyes blaze into the back of my head. I bet she's regretting the day she met me, and I can't really blame her.
"Do you need anything before we go home?" I ask, keeping my voice low and as soft as I can like I’m speaking to a cornered animal.
She huffs, and I fight back a grin. Even when she's mad, she's so fucking adorable it kills me. The sound has my cock sitting up and taking notice, and while it may be fucked up to get turned on at her anger, I've always liked the fight in Montana.
The air in the car feels electrified, filled with a heavy tension that sits on my skin and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
"How about a time machine?" she quips, and this time I do chuckle. I can't hold it back.
"Sorry, fresh out of those. I was thinking maybe some ice cream or a bottle of wine for the bath you're going to take when we get back to my place." My voice still has that low quality to it that makes the words come out raspier than usual. My cock is still half-hard from her attitude, so the bath comment comes out sounding like some sort of foreplay offer.
"Ice cream, wine, and a trashy magazine are the absolute least you can do after you ruined my date. God, tonight was like an episode of the Bachelor or something. I need to drown my sorrows and pick up the pieces so that tomorrow I can start the search all over again," she says, and I can't ignore how my teeth clench and my muscles tighten at the mention of her finding someone else.
Someone who's not me.
Fuck, I hate this, but it's for the best, even if it sucks at the moment.
"Deal," I tell her, making sure to clear my throat first so she doesn't get the wrong idea. I'm relieved she ignored the accidental sexual innuendo behind my first comment and didn't continue to make things awkward. "And for what it's worth, I am sorry about tonight. It was unprofessional of me, and it won't happen again."
I chance a look at her in the rearview mirror, and I can only see half her face between the shadows from outside, but her body sags, and I don't know if it's in relief or disappointment. She doesn't say anything for a long time. Finally, Indy climbs in behind the wheel and shuts his door, breaking the tension.
"No sign of anyone out there and no cameras. How does a high-end restaurant like this, that regularly parks cars worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, not have fucking security cameras? And better lighting in the parking lot?" he grumbles, and I pull a huge breath down deep into my lungs.
It didn't feel like I could breathe when it was just Montana and me because if I did, I’d suck in her scent, and I didn't know if I'd be strong enough to resist crawling into the back with her and making myself a liar right after I promised the kiss wouldn't happen again.
"Better make it specialty ice cream from the local shop I like. They have this marionberry pie flavor that's insane. I'm going to need a pint of it immediately," Montana orders from the back seat. I glance over at Indy, who sends a questioning look my way. "In fact, make it two."
"Whatever you want, Spitfire," I agree in such a placating voice that Indy doesn't even try to be subtle when he laughs at me and calls me whipped under his breath, the fucker.
"You heard her," I snap, not in the mood for his bullshit. I want to go home and nap for about twelve hours, and I get a sick sense of satisfaction when I tell him that's exactly what I plan to do. He gets night watch for that little comment, and suddenly I'm not feeling quite so bad.
"On second thought, I want to stop for a drink first," she says, and I open my mouth to tell her no, but she barrels right over me. "And don't even think about denying me. It's a small hole in the wall by my apartment, and I haven't had a catch-up with my favorite bartender in too long. It's exactly what I need after this night. Besides, it's not like my stalker doesn't know where I'm staying, so really with you two there, it won't be any less safe than going home. After that, we'll get ice cream."
I'm too damn exhausted to argue with her, and I'm due a conversation with Connor so now’s as good a time as any. Sebastian texted me earlier that the new security system is ready to go up in her apartment, so I figured we'd be taking her back there tomorrow after he finishes anyway.
"You up for this?" Indy asks.
I blow out a breath. "Yeah, I'll call Connor and see if he can meet me. Do you mind taking point if he shows so I can update him?"
"Yeah, no worries. Maybe this guy will try again, and I can have a little fun," Indy muses. While I know he doesn't want anything to happen to Montana, I don’t share his excitement about another run-in with her attempted kidnapper tonight.
"It's probably a terrible idea to wish for the guy who wants to snatch me away to show up," Montana chimes in from the back seat.
"She has a point," I say, and Indy scoffs.
I'm really just relieved the tension seems to have broken between us. Montana sends Indy the address to the bar, and he plugs it into the GPS on his phone. The drive over starts out quiet with none of us saying much, but then he turns up the music, so we're not sitting in silence.
When he pulls up outside the bar, Montana starts to open the door. "Don't even fucking think about it," I growl, jumping out and steadying myself while the ground sways beneath my feet, but it only takes me a second to regain my balance. Then I’m standing in front of her door so she can't push it open any further. I swear this girl has a death wish. I don't even care if she pouts about it or adds to the list of reasons why she's mad at me right now. We were attacked tonight, and it's not happening again on my watch.
Scanning the area, I note there aren't many people around, and the area is well-lit, so I feel comfortable letting her out and open the door. She slips right past me, her body brushing mine as she does, and I let out a quiet groan at the contact. Montana is so soft, and her curves make me a little insane. For a second, all I can think about is how it might feel to sink into her body, but then Indy's at my side, and we're both following her up to the door.
He manages to jump in front of her at the last second, so she's sandwiched between us. "You need to wait for him to clear the bar, no matter how much you like defying us. This isn't up for debate. You called us in to keep you safe, so let us do our jobs." My reprimand might've come off as gruffer than I meant, but I’m not dealing well with the way Montana always seems to ignore the danger she's in and continues living life as if there isn't some twisted guy out there hunting her because it's fun.
Indy pokes his head back out of the door and gestures us in. Montana hasn't said anything to me since she got out of the car, and she won't even meet my eyes, but that's okay. Like I said, the distance between us is good, even if it feels like I got kicked in the stomach when she ignores me.
When we step inside, the place is clean and small, with a fancy glass bar top and high-backed black leather and metal stools. The bartender, a guy who perks up when he spots Montana—which, naturally, makes me want to strangle him—looks far too friendly with my client.
"Simon!" Montana calls out as she hurries up to the bar. He's already mixing up a drink for her, and by the time she takes one of the stools, he's sliding it across the bar top and into her hand.
"How's my favorite customer?" Simon asks, ignoring a guy who walks up to the bar and tries to get his attention.
I'm watching their exchange closely with narrowed eyes as I step up behind her, closer than necessary, but I can't seem to help myself. The more I try to put distance between us, the less I like it, and the more my body seems to act on its own to be close to her. She's magnetic, and it turns out I'm not very good at resisting the pull.
I'm standing here seething at the guy that has all of Montana's attention on him. He's more attractive than I would've liked, and he looks a bit like Dallas from tonight's dinner. Neither one of them look much like me, and I don't know if I'm not her type or if she's branching out because maybe her attraction to me makes her uncomfortable.
"So, Connor's over there waiting for you," Indy says, bumping against my arm and tilting his head to the back corner. Fuck, I'm so lost in Montana I didn't even look around the place well enough to spot my boss-slash-friend. If I don't get my shit together, Montana's going to get hurt on my watch.
With a warning glare shot Simon's way that he blatantly ignores, I leave her to Indy and cross the semi-crowded room to the booth Connor's claimed back in the corner.
"Hey, thanks for coming," I tell him as I slide into the booth.
His lips quirk up at the corner. "Looks like things are going…"
"Yeah." I rub the back of my neck, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.
"What happened tonight?" he asks, signaling the cocktail waitress for a beer. He cocks his eyebrow at me, but I shake my head. I'm on duty, and despite how unprofessional I've been acting lately, drinking on the job isn't going to happen.
"I got distracted, and the perp took advantage."
He outright chuckles this time. "I'd say so. How's the head?"
"Shit, Indy told you?"
"He sent the entire team a message about it as soon as he knew you were okay. I think he got some entertainment out of seeing the unshakable Ronin Desai taken down a notch by the bad guy."
"Remind me to punch him in the balls for that later."
Connor laughed and took a sip of his beer before his face went carefully stoic. "Do you think you can handle this assignment? I can have Indy take over, and Asher switch in. I know this assignment is complicated for you, so if you feel like you aren't up to it, I can use you elsewhere."
"I'm good," I tell him, not sure if I'm telling the truth or not, but the last thing I need is to be pulled away and wonder if Montana's okay. Oh, and if the guys are on the right trail of figuring out who her stalker is. "But I did want to talk to you about bringing Asher in anyway. This guy's getting more ballsy, and he's stepping up his methods. I don't think Montana should be without two agents anywhere she goes."
"Yeah, of course. Whatever you need. I'll send him to your place tonight so you can catch him up."
I should've known it wouldn't be that easy, though. "Can we talk about what the hell's going on with you, though? How'd some jackass get the drop on you anyway?"
I scrub my hand over my face and take a deep breath. Connor and I have been through some serious shit. If there's anyone who knows me and who I can talk to, it's him. Plus, he's been through his own relationship shit with his girlfriend, Gigi, so he knows something about girl trouble.
"Fuck, I hate talking about this," I tell him, and he smirks.
"Tell me something I don't know. I watched your sorry ass sulk over that woman for months, and now you've got her glued to your side twenty-four-seven, and you're doing nothing about it? Watching her date other men? What the fuck is wrong with you? If Gigi tried that shit, I'd have bent her over my knee and showed her exactly who she belonged to. She knew it; I knew it. I wasn't about to let her deny it, so why are you resisting what's so damn clear when I see the two of you in a room together?"
I opened my mouth to say something, then shut it again because I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. "What exactly is clear? She's flirting right now with the bartender, and earlier tonight was on a date with a guy she claims can give her all the things I can't."
Connor shook his head like he pitied me. "You're so blind it's actually kind of sad, Ronin. She's looked over this way at least five times since you sat down. Now, what do you think you're so incapable of giving her?"
"She wants a husband, kids, the white picket fence. A forever kind of love. That's not me. I’m married to the job, and even if I wasn’t, my heart’s already on life support. One more blow, and I’m finished. You remember what happened with Samantha. I can't risk it."
Connor holds his bottle halfway to his mouth and blinks at me like I'm stupid, which makes me bristle. "So, just so I make sure I understand your stupid-ass logic, you're letting the potential girl of your dreams move on with someone else because you're afraid she’s going to fuck around and then pack up her shit and bolt on you while you’re on a job?"
Well, when he says it like that, it sounds ridiculous. He doesn't let me answer before he starts in on me, though. One thing Connor's always been good for is brutal honesty.
"Why the fuck would you think Montana’s anything like Samantha? And as for being married to the job, look at who you’re talking about, dude. Montana’s just as married to her job as you are to yours, maybe more so. You don’t think she’d understand how much you need this? Besides, once you find this guy and put him down for good, don’t you think you’ll be able to move on?"
“I honestly don’t know.” I blow out a breath. “After Makenna disappeared, my whole life imploded and the only thing that’s held me together all these years is my determination to find the guy who took her. All the training, all the missions, everything led me to where I am right now. I can’t get derailed when I’m so fucking close.”
When I chance a glance over at Montana, and watch her grin light up the room as she talks animatedly with her bartender friend, my heart feels light, and I know I wouldn't do anything to ever intentionally hurt her if I could help it.
"Why do you have to be so goddamn logical?" I ask, leaning against the cushioned seat back and feeling the weight of his words.
"It's a gift." He smirks.
“Maybe when this is all over, and I know she’s safe, I’ll think about it.”
"With that in mind, one last word of advice before I get the hell out of here. Figure your shit out before it's too late. She's not going to wait around for you to be ready. If the idea of watching her walk down the aisle to some other asshole makes you want to go on a murder spree, it's probably time to re-evaluate your life choices."
"I wouldn't-"
He scoffs. "Oh, you would. Trust me, I know that look because I would, too, and for some added incentive, if she finds another guy who realizes how incredible she is and they get married, you know you're going to be expected to be there because sure as fuck I'll be the one roped into marrying them. You'll be the pathetic loveless jackass drunk in the back row, wondering what the hell to do now that she's out of reach. Stop fucking around with all these bullshit excuses. No risk, no reward, my friend. Your heart may be held together with duct tape and superglue, but maybe she’ll be the one to finally heal it for good."
As her laugh carries across the room, I'm struck with the thought that maybe I really am an idiot who's making the worst mistake of his life.
"There it is," Connor says with a grin.
"Fuck you," I say, but there's no heat in it. In fact, I'm grateful he gave me a verbal ass-kicking because now I have a whole lot of shit to think about, but he's right.
Montana's not going to wait around for me, so if I don't want to lose out on my chance with her, I need to sort myself out now. I’ve always considered myself to be brave, but right now I might be the biggest coward that ever lived.