Convicted (Entangled Ignite)

by Dee Tenorio

  Whatever she’d said to Rick, it had been enough to stop the constant—and often fruitless—raids. The emergency calls from Shana’s house stopped, too, and since they saw her regularly heading to Cooper’s Tavern, unharmed, Rick stayed his hand. For two months things had been so quiet, it was damn near peaceful.

  Cade often wondered what price Shana paid to keep Carter so silent, but she’d made it very clear that she wasn’t their concern. Not his, not Rick’s.

  His friend’s nod, when it came, was accompanied by a low mumble and a glimpse into the hell Rick had been living. “My whole life has been for her.”

  Cade took a minute to absorb that. Rick had enlisted at eighteen, and still been naive as hell when he’d been bumped up to ForceRecon’s grueling training schools. They’d all had bets if he would make it, since most of the men in Cade’s unit were recycling their training for the next tour. He’d pulled through, proving himself a talented sniper and an even better explosives man. ForceRecon needed someone who could do anything required, and Rick had been eager to pull his weight.

  Now Cade found himself viewing his friend’s military career in a different light. He’d done it all because he’d wanted to build a career he could be proud of. Wanted to make a difference. Wanted to make a life. For Shana.

  Instead, just like Cade, he’d nearly drowned in death.

  Been buried in it…

  Memories threatened to swarm him, the smell of the blood, dirt, and sweat like a ghost in his nostrils. But he pushed them away. Gently, willing them to fade. That was the trick, he’d realized somewhere in the lonely months without talking to Trina. She’d talked him through the haze, when she was there to see what was happening. She’d calmed him by pulling him slowly back to the here and now.

  Cade wasn’t sure what nightmares plagued his friend. Was it the past that had made him so damned frozen? Or was it the present?

  “I’ve never had that,” Cade replied quietly. No one had been waiting for him to come home, his parents having passed peacefully, one at a time, while he was still in the service. He’d been driven by duty, by a fierce need to protect his country and the brothers he served with. Not by the desire to protect just one person at home. That was a notion he’d simply never understood.

  He blinked, thinking immediately of Trina’s militant face, chin raised high in defiance. He understood it now, though. She was gone, staying away like he’d demanded, but the hunger for her had only gotten worse. The hunger and the anger that she wouldn’t let him protect her. How much of that anger had been part of pushing her away?

  “Never?” Rick asked, curiosity seeping into his voice unexpectedly.

  Cade stared back at him, wanting to give an honest answer, but he didn’t have one that was wholly true. He had no right to feel that way—any way—about Trina. “Not before, no.”

  “And now?”

  He shook his head. Non-answer, yes, but he had nothing else. Rick’s questioning glance lasted a bit longer, but finally that too disappeared.

  They finished their work quietly, mending the breach with little more than a nod at each other when it was complete. They packed up their tools, settled into the truck, and started the drive back to town.

  For the first time in a long time, Cade looked back on his work in the side view mirror. He could tell where the new posts started. Could still smell the cedar on his hands and shirt. They looked and smelled like a fresh start.

  He liked that. Liked it a lot.

  He startled when he caught his own reflection, surprised to see a smile creasing his cheeks. It faltered when he realized it had come without his permission or thought. He almost tamped it down, but decided against it.

  Trina might be out of his life, but he was still holding it together without her. He was making progress. He deserved this one. For as long as it lasted, he’d earned it.

  …

  Katrina climbed up the mountainside, her boots crunching in the sparse tall grass that had baked into straw in the hard dirt. Weeds tried to tangle over the tops of her feet, but she managed to sidestep most of them, grumbling as she did so. Fall was descending fast on the mountains, bringing relief to the practically scorched earth. Not so much for her. Between the early morning foggy cold and her well-developed irritation for the man she was meeting, she wasn’t happy about this little get-together in the slightest. Cresting the top of the hill, she found herself in a grove of trees, the canopy of leaves nearly black above her. It would probably be a nice place if the world’s largest pain in the ass wasn’t waiting for her in the one spot where the hazy light poked through.

  “One of these days, I swear a sniper’s going to tag his stupid ass.” She stomped over, making enough noise to mimic a herd of horses running through. Not that the man even turned her way.

  She supposed he was entitled to his arrogance, at least a little. Handsome enough, with that tall frame and broad shoulders and the way the sun turned the deep wheat color of his hair into some kind of angelic gold. And he was probably a seriously lethal son of a bitch. He’d just never done it for her. Something about his confident grin and the way he’d always been so sure of himself. When they were kids, Rick Trelane just had it all too easy.

  Now? Now he just pissed her off.

  “You wanna tell me why you dragged me up here at the crack of frickin’ dawn?” Meeting was risky, so they made sure not to do it very often. He hadn’t even given her a reason in his text. Just the time to arrive, the lazy prick.

  Rick finally turned, taking a squinty-eyed drag on his cigarette. “What’s the matter, Katy, worried about losing some beauty sleep?”

  She answered him with a raised finger. “What do you want, Rick?”

  “I want to know what you’re doing with Cade.”

  The temptation to turn on her heel and let him enjoy the sight of her ass walking away almost got the better of her. Instead she crossed her arms and glared at him. “Nothing. Like he asked me to.”

  Even if it hurt like a son of a bitch to keep her distance.

  It was the right thing. The safest thing, for both of them. He didn’t need her confusing him, and she couldn’t afford to give Frank a way to hurt her. If anything happened to Cade because of her, she didn’t know what she’d do.

  “He asked you to leave him alone?”

  She shrugged. “He decreed it and I decided he was right. The two of us make about as much sense together as sugar in a gas tank.”

  It was the truth. Except… Except when she was with him, it felt more right than anything she’d ever known. Peaceful, yes, but also thrilling. Exciting, arousing, freeing… And though he would never understand why, having him in her life, even just for those stolen hours, having him to look forward to, made her feel clean again. Real.

  The man made her forget the tightrope she walked, giving her a sense of herself again. The woman she was under all the bullshit and carefully constructed lies. When she was with Cade, she could be Katrina, David Killian’s daughter. Not Katy, Red Dog’s hated niece.

  That was precisely why he was so dangerous. And why she was even more deadly to him.

  She was in this position expressly because she had no ties and nothing to lose. No one who could get hurt if her gamble didn’t pay off. Cade could be used, if Frank ever felt the need to make a point.

  She never expected the one with the blade to grind would be Rick.

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Because you’re a suspicious prick.” She shrugged again, not caring if he could tell he was making her defensive.

  “He’s worried about you.”

  Her angry stance faltered, but she shored it back up as quickly as she could.

  “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “But Cade’s my friend—probably the only real one I have left. And you and I have been in this together from the beginning, so whether you admit it or not, it’s my job to protect you.”

  Actually, since she was a federal ag
ent, she was supposed to protect him, but the truth was, they’d been looking out for each other since they both came home and found the town to be worse than either had imagined.

  “He cares about you, Katy. You’re important to him. I don’t know if you can appreciate what that means to someone like him—”

  The defensiveness eased out of her and she looked down to the hard-packed earth under their feet. “Yes. I can.”

  Rick stayed quiet for a few strained minutes. “The things we saw out there… The things we did to survive… You can’t know what it was like. You’ll never fully understand what he’s been through.”

  What they’d both been through. She swallowed at the knot forming in her throat. It wasn’t comfortable, wanting to console Rick. So she simply nodded. He wasn’t wrong. She remembered too well the demons her father had faced, the ones he’d lost to. The thought of Cade walking down that same path made her chest ache.

  “Why didn’t he see someone after you two came home? Therapists, counselors.” Things were different than in her father’s time. Back then, the military didn’t even want to admit PTSD existed.

  Rick suddenly ran his hand through his hair, agitated enough that he didn’t bother hiding his feelings. Or maybe he couldn’t. “Mandatory therapy isn’t going to help anyone who doesn’t want it. Cade went through his paces, same as me, but you know how he is. Whatever they wanted to hear, whatever they asked for, he complied, just to get the fuck out.”

  Yeah, she could see that happening. Evaluators getting precious little more than Cade’s stony expression. Unless they outranked him. Then, she imagined, they got a salute.

  “Maybe you should tell him the truth.”

  Katrina’s head shot up, shock opening her mouth before she even knew what to say.

  “Tell him the truth and get him out of here.”

  “Are you insane?” As if Cade would believe her. Her past spoke for itself and the story wasn’t kind. Truth never was.

  He stalked closer to her, lowering his voice as if they could possibly be overheard. “If we work together, we can get you both out without Frank realizing a thing.”

  “You know that can’t happen.” On the off chance Cade did believe her, he wouldn’t leave Rick. Wouldn’t leave any of these people to die or worse, knowing he could do something about it.

  “Yes, it can. We can come up with something, something that bastard will believe.”

  All at once, Katrina flashed back to her conversation with Shana. The similarities made her breath catch. Was this how Shana felt every time she had to justify continuing to risk her life? Knowing the impossibility of running all the way to the depths of her soul, even though she knew the person in front of her was speaking sense? How did you make someone else understand something that only made sense when you were the one walking the path?

  “I can’t just throw away the last two years and who knows how many lives—”

  “Yes, you can,” he insisted, daring to put his hands on her shoulders to ensure she met his searing gaze.

  For a second, all she could hear was the scrape of her oddly panicked breaths, temptation teasing her with smoky tendrils she could feel almost as tightly as his hold on her.

  Walk away from all the fear of discovery? From the lies that had become open wounds? To have Cade look at her with pride instead of his confused attraction? But reason came back soon enough, making her shake her head. “Why are you saying this? Why are you—”

  “Because I’m afraid if we don’t tell him, he’s going to get himself killed trying to save you.”

  She pushed him away, but his words kept her rooted to the spot.

  “That man is the only reason I made it back home.” Rick’s voice rumbled, a whisper made gruff with remorse she could practically touch.

  She closed her eyes, trying to shut out his words. “Stop.”

  “You care about him, I know you do. He knows it.”

  Katrina backed away. One step. Two. “Stop.”

  But he didn’t. He just kept hammering at her. “This is how you help him. He needs someone to care about, someone to live for.”

  The past spiraled upward in her mind. She’d been that once. The only reason her father had clung to life. The reason he’d suffered day after day, night after night. Until he’d started to blame her. Until she blamed herself…

  “Stop, goddamn it!” Both her fists landed hard on his chest, her head bowed until she was practically leaning on him. Hot tears stung her eyes, falling to the dirt without ever touching her cheeks. She blew out a breath, willing the shaking and the panic back.

  Rick said nothing, just stood there and let her get her bearings.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, but she couldn’t lift her head. “I can’t be Cade’s crutch. It wouldn’t do him any good.”

  “Okay.” He at least realized he’d hit too deep a nerve, his voice low and almost soothing. “Not his crutch. But you can be more to him than I can. You can reach him, Katy. All I’m asking you to do is try. For him. For you. Get out of here, find out what you can be if you give it a chance.”

  She was already shaking her head, trying to ignore how much she wanted to take him up on his offer. Abandon her assignment? Tell the DEA to go fuck themselves for keeping her in this position when everyone else in her task force was gone? Tempting, but she knew damn well she’d put herself here. She’d fucking volunteered, taking savage pleasure in the thought of weeding out her uncle’s precious MC. Even if she could turn her back on the only thing she’d ever done right in her life, there was no guarantee Cade would follow her. That he’d forgive her for risking his life for the sake of her case.

  That she’d forgive herself.

  “I can’t.” Her breath shuddered out of her, but she knew she had to be firm. She lifted her face and met his gaze. “This case is more important than just me and Cade. How many people have been hurt by this club? How many people have bled or died because of it? No, keeping me embedded is the best chance we’ve ever had of getting them out of this town. Of making them pay for what they’ve done.” Red Dog’s recompense had already begun, trapped in that solitary cell, with nothing but four walls to think about for the rest of his grizzled, empty life. Frank, on the other hand, deserved even worse.

  “You’re not responsible for what they’ve done.”

  She knew that. In her head and probably in those deep parts of her heart where her father’s voice still whispered, she knew. But everyone she grew up with held her accountable by association, from the first time she walked into Marketta to when she drove out thirty minutes ago under the careful watch of Eleanora Blaver, who’d lived above the library for forty years.

  Those hated looks had chased her all her life. They drove her to leave town and to do something decent with herself. What began as a vengeful career plan to be a police officer had led her down a winding road to what she’d hoped would be redemption. Through the academy and getting her nerve to apply for the agency, past the training in Quantico and all the psychological testing she was sure she would fail. Always, no matter the case or the challenge, the blame had clung to her shoulders. And now…

  Now it wouldn’t let go.

  She looked up at Rick, despising how helpless she felt against it. “If I leave now, I will be.”

  His shoulders dropped and she knew he wasn’t going to argue anymore. That was probably the reason he’d taken the job in the sheriff’s office when he came home and saw how bad it had all gotten. Once you knew, you couldn’t walk away and do nothing. Not if you wanted to keep the pieces of your self-respect together.

  Her heart, she reminded herself, was never part of the equation.

  Chapter Eight

  Cade might have missed her if the roar of her motorcycle hadn’t woken him from the light doze he’d been enjoying while parked in the shade of the hillside. That or the alert from the radar gun would have gotten his attention. One hundred ten miles per hour really upset those things.

  It only t
ook a second for him to turn the engine and tear off after her, but Trina rode a white and blue Ducati crotch-rocket that ripped up the road like a jet and left him choking on her dust. It was at least three minutes before he even began to catch up.

  Swearing, he maneuvered the tight curves of the road. He nearly fishtailed twice and damn near drifted off the side of the cliff. He saw when she finally registered the siren, her head turning briefly in her helmet to look over her shoulder. When she disappeared behind yet another bend of the old highway, he wondered if she would leave him behind or if she would stop to see him.

  Mooning like a goddamned teenager…

  If it didn’t take all his concentration to control the cruiser, he’d have slapped himself. But he did allow himself a relieved breath when five seconds passed without her coming back into view on the next mountain curve. Five, then ten. Accepting that she must have pulled over to wait for him, he turned off the siren and slowed his speed, taking the last few bends at a less breakneck pace.

  He finally found her, leaning against her bike in a turnout. He pulled into the unpaved makeshift cul-de-sac, eyes narrowing at her angry stance. Helmet off, white leather jacket open, arms crossed over her breasts. Those damn tight jeans of hers, denim cupping her the way he wanted to. Even from his seat behind the wheel, he could see the blazing rage in her eyes. Her luscious mouth, usually so inviting, was hardened to a flat line. The real giveaway was the rapidly tapping foot that had her practically vibrating in place while she waited for him to step out.

  Just fixin’ for a fight, as his mother used to say.

  He took his time opening the door, letting the metal creak slowly into a squeal before falling open of its own volition. It was a pace he kept on his way out of the car, too, watching her eyes narrow as he dragged out the inevitable explosion. He knew exactly when it would come, too. The exact instant the door slammed, the wham echoing off the mountainside around them. It might as well have been a pistol shot.