by S. K. Lessly
All right, it wasn’t lost on me that I was a lot to take. You had to be a special kind of breed for my humor, my sarcasm, and my smart mouth, which by the way, was my humor.
Throughout my life, I’d made a few friends that had come somewhat close to my boarded-up heart. I even allowed a man to get almost as close to me as my parents, but that shit didn’t work in the worse way. Naturally, he and those friends were no more. Oh, they were still among the living. It’s just umm… some nights, the rare nights when weakness drove my past hurts, I contemplated if they needed to continue… you know living... such an overrated action, breathing.
Needless to say, I had learned the hard way that I needed to keep my heart guarded at all times. Contentment and joy was the devil, and I vowed to never sell my soul again.
I managed to stay true to that for years until the day I met the Cooper brothers, one in particular, their sister and parents, and a beautiful woman with green eyes. After that, all that shit I said before about being guarded went out of the window.
First, let me say that the Cooper brothers were fucking hot as damn hell, including their sister. I swear, their mother had laid golden eggs four times and didn’t miss a beat. All four of the Cooper spawns were also certifiably crazy, but each of them were specimens of goddamn perfection. Take my word for it, I should know.
I had different relationships with all of the Coopers. I loved Mama Joe and Pops as if they were my own parents. I would do anything for them. Lili was my ride or die chick. I’d call her anytime I felt like letting off some steam. She and I would go hunting for some poor clueless bastard for me to toy with for a night. She was just helpful like that.
Unfortunately, since I had gained a sister, no doubt I’d gained three brothers. One was an irritating, bossy, controlling, get-on-my-damn-nerves, dick-blocking, overprotective type that I swear got off on telling me what to do. He and I were alike in a lot of ways, which caused us to bump heads all the time. Despite all of those things, he was my best friend. If I ever needed him, he’d be there without hesitation.
Another Cooper brother was like a brother to me. He was someone that I could talk to about anything, and he wouldn’t judge me. He called me on my shit all the time, but I knew whenever I needed him that he’d be there, no questions asked. Oh, please don’t get it twisted. He was controlling, overbearing, and an asshole most times. However, I think he understood me. Therefore, I overlooked that flaw in him.
And that left him, The Last of the Mohicans, The Last Boy Scout, The Last Star Fighter. He was the one Cooper brother who I’d probably chuck it all for and confess my undying love to. That is, if I thought he’d go for it. He thought of me as a sister, but ever since I met him, I thought of him as my unattainable sexual conquest. I had wanted nothing more but to see his hot ass naked with his face between my thighs, sucking every drop of my honeysuckle goodness into his greedy blessed-ass mouth.
Oh…my…God! What a man, what a man, what a mighty good man!
I would love to explain further how I let this man get past my wall of steel; you know put it into legible words. However, I couldn’t. Hell, I couldn’t even give you smoke signals it was so bad. This was unfounded for me. It was unprecedented, actually.
This man had made me feel things that I had never felt before. I’d had boyfriends in my lifetime. I’d even felt that I had experienced being in love before, which was something that I didn’t want to feel again. However, this third Cooper had managed to make me think of nothing else except being with him, around him, under him, and on top of him. I wanted to feel his large hands all over my body. I wanted to be claimed, cherished, and desired by him. I just… I just wanted him.
Sometimes I felt my life was incomplete if I didn’t see him every day. Just a glimpse of him at work, and I would be able to get through the day.
I knew this sounded crazy. How crazy, though, I couldn’t tell you. Maybe you could tell me exactly how much of an idiot I was for wanting a man I couldn’t have or obsessing over someone that if I did have, I wouldn’t be able to keep anyway. Thus, the reason for the self-inflicted shit storm that I found myself in right now. I was putting myself through torture every day.
Happy endings… That shit just wasn’t in the cards for me. Hell, I didn’t know what happily ever after even felt like and I never would. But a woman could dream, couldn’t she?
Here’s my story.
The brewing before the shit storm…
Chapter One:
Misty
I felt everyone around the crime scene cutting their eyes at me. Some were studying me, probably judging me. Others were disgusted by me. However, there were a lot of approving eyes aimed in my direction as if they were glad I had done what I did. I really didn’t care what they thought or felt about me. I’d done what I had to do. They could sideline quarterback me all they damn well pleased. They weren’t there. They didn’t see the sick and twisted things he was doing to those kids. They didn’t see the helplessness, the hurt, and fear in the eyes of the innocent, but I did. I had witnessed it. I felt their despair and pain and I’d acted accordingly.
If anyone was expecting an apology from me, they’d be waiting until hell froze over. My actions were just, and in my opinion, fucking warranted. Oh sure, if hindsight was twenty-twenty and all that, I could’ve done things differently. I could’ve called for backup and waited, which by the way, I did try to do. I could’ve figured out another way to get a hold of the command center and given them my sit rep before I reacted.
I even could have waited for backup instead of going inside the building alone. And when I found the suspect, I could’ve ended the night and tasered the bastard or put two in his chest. I would have been within my right, especially when the sick, twisted fuck came at me with his serrated combat knife.
I mean, what kind of idiot brings a knife to a gun fight, right?
So yeah, I could have taken him down quick, clean, and easy. No fuss and most of all no mess.
But that didn’t happen.
For the first time in a long time, I let what I saw; I let the mission get to me. I didn’t lean on my training. I reacted with needless force and aggression instead of using logic and patience to get the job done. I had been trained to kill by our very own United States Marine Corps. I knew better, but believe me when I say that at the time, I didn’t have a choice.
The bastard kept coming at me, taunting me with the knife as he inched closer to me. Talking serious shit as he smiled at me. And before you say it, I know I shouldn’t have let him get to me. But let me explain something. I didn’t give two shits when he threatened to rape and kill me, which, by the way, he said he wasn’t sure which he’d do first.
Yeah, let’s pause and think about that for a minute. Sick, right?
The unhinged psycho also boasted about how connected he was and how he wouldn’t spend a second in jail because we—meaning law enforcement—couldn’t touch him. The moment those words fell from his lips, I didn’t bat an eyelid.
We had all been briefed about this clown and understood how connected he was. I wasn’t sure how to explain this, but Simon had powerful men, senators, backing him that could bury you in a heartbeat. I believed him when he said that he would never see the inside of a jail cell.
Based on that information alone, I should’ve put a bullet in him and called it a day. The standing order to find and capture be damned. Still, Simon’s mindless threats didn’t cause me to put my gun away and pull out my knife. No, what got to me were the things he said he had done to those kids I’d found. The lunatic also told me that he would find out who I was and more importantly, find the children in my family so that he could do the same sick shit to them. He even had the audacity to get vivid and very descriptive. Now that got to me.
And well… Shit went downhill from there.
I put away the rational, pulled out the warrior, and went to work. Best believe I gave him everything he did not want. His incessant need for me to kick his ass poured out of h
im and permeated the air around me. It fueled me as I tore into his tendons, his muscles, and his face with my knife. He tried to keep up slashing at my face and my torso, but there was no use. Simon was good, but I was better and the second he knew that, I could see it in his eyes, his soul was mine.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Well, I was beyond scorned. I was irate, insane, and completely uncontrollable. I went after this man with everything in me. I didn’t show mercy. I didn’t show restraint. The son of a bitch didn’t deserve any. Hell, he didn’t deserve the feel of my steel, but he got it. Oh, he got that and so much more. I made him pay for everything he had ever done and then some. And right before I slit his throat and watched him bleed out, I spit in his face and wished him well in hell.
Now, typically I wasn’t into the theatrics like talking to my prey before I killed them. That only happened in movies.
Okay, that’s a lie. I love the theatrics. I indulged in that art of expression all of the time except when the killer in me came out to play.
When it came to my craft, there was nothing complex about me. I was a simple killer. These days I was a distant killer. I was never up close and personal unless absolutely necessary. My skills with the rifle, the M40A7 and MK 21 Precision Sniper rifles to be exact, were desired and needed on most of our missions. So typically, I did my job and moved on. That’s it. But tonight, was different. His destiny to meet my knife was needed, and I was all too thrilled to complete the introductions.
That’s why I ignored the judging stares around me, took a few deep breaths, and leaned against the Suburban behind me. The hope of easing the tension and adrenaline that was still pumping through my veins was fleeting as each second ticked by. I knew I needed to get a hold of my inner warrior and fast. Yet my mind’s eye kept replaying the shit I saw and more importantly, what I had done over and over and over again.
Look, if you ask me, the piece of shit deserved every fucking thing he got. He needed to burn in hell for all eternity. But sadly, I wasn’t feeling my jolly ole self after a kill. Again, I wasn’t saying I was bothered by what I had done, but I guess… I don’t know. Maybe the things he said did affect me somehow.
I mean the thought of him or even someone like him hurting the people I loved sickened me. It also scared the shit out of me. I would do anything to keep my family safe…anything. But what would happen if someone went after my family and I wasn’t there to protect them?
That’s what he told me as he taunted me. He said he would get to my family when I least expected it. He also vowed that once he got to them, he’d do unholy things to them, and I wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop him.
And I believed him.
There would be nothing to stop him from making good on his words. The FBI was playing right into this asshole’s hands. They had no clue who they were dealing with. I did. I knew and understood what he was capable of doing. He spoke the truth, and I didn’t want to admit that fact aloud or to myself. I didn’t want to hear how vulnerable my family was to the horrors of my life. That what I did for a living could cause the death of someone I loved, someone I cherished. If anything were to happen to my mom and dad, this world would feel my wrath, yes, but I would be destroyed in the process.
I felt myself getting worked up all over again. I thought about taking a walk to calm down or find someone else to beat up on. That’s when I noticed three men dressed in cheap suits moving quickly in my direction. The FBI.
I didn’t like the look they had on their faces. They were coming to give me shit. Well, I wasn’t in the mood for shit, so I gripped my knife tighter, getting ready for anything, getting ready to…
“Take it easy now,” whispered a male voice very calmly into my ear.
I didn’t reply nor did I take it easy. I was pent up and ready to get down and dirty.
Bring… it… on!
“Put the knife away,” the man next to me now demanded, keeping his voice low, but strong.
I shook my head as I found my voice. “No,” I said to him, my eyes trained on the trio that was still heading this way.
I studied the body language of the three and quickly identified the agent in charge out of the three. It was easy enough because he was the one with the red face and angry stare. I wondered if he was the one in charge for the feds. He wasn’t what I expected, if he was in fact the Special Agent in Charge or the SAC. The agents that reported to him poured it on thick. They had warned me to watch out for the SAC. They’d described him as bad-ass, and I needed to make sure I stayed on his good side or he would make me pay.
Hearing about this man, quite honestly, had me salivating with anticipation. Naturally, I had envisioned this tough-looking God-like creature that possessed so much power that I’d be knocked on my ass from the mere presence of him. With that in mind, can you imagine my disappointment at what was coming my way? The man looked weak in my opinion. He had a weak chin and a flabby body. He seemed to be one of those overly-eager types that used his title for power.
The man was tall, but not taller than the two that flanked him. He had a head full of short cropped dirty blonde hair and a face that was very unfortunate looking. I could see from a distance the aggressive way his beady eyes squinted as he frowned at me. He was putting on a show for everyone around us with his chest puffed out and back stiff as a board. I figured this was his attempt to be intimidating; giving off an air about him as if we couldn’t see right through his façade.
But he had my attention as it was. I couldn’t help but study the way he walked and how amused I was that his men kept a few steps in distance from him. It was funny how they looked at him expectantly and completely on guard as if he could make them disappear with a snap of his fingers if the mood came upon him.
Was he hot shit? Should I be shaking in my boots? I smirked devilishly as I wondered how easily I could get away with—
“Misty!”
I swiveled my attention to the new source of my annoyance, my hot stare burning into the man at my left.
“What?!” I boomed and looked into the frowning, disapproving face of Malcolm Jovanni Cooper.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it now,” he warned.
“Why?” I asked him, looking truly perplexed. Quite honestly, I didn’t see the problem with what I was thinking. A threat was heading in my direction. Why wouldn’t I prepare for a battle?
“You know why. Now put your knife away and don’t say shit. We got this.”
I started to protest, but I caught a glimpse of Josh and Shane moving like lightning past me. All three men were dressed similar to me in black shirts and dark jeans or pants. Josh and Shane didn’t say anything to me as they passed me. They simply managed to place themselves directly in front of me, shielding me from the so-called danger that was coming my way.
Holy shit! My very own alpha-made great wall of badassness.
I felt Malcolm push my hair from my face to behind my ear. I shivered slightly from his soft touch and looked up into his settled blue eyes.
“We got this, yeah?” he repeated, but I was no longer listening. My eyes were fixated on his with a whole lot of weird vibes doing something to my insides. I took this moment to inhale as much air as I could. I did my best to feed off of his calmness and control because hell, I had none at that moment.
“Yeah?” he repeated again, and this time I slowly nodded.
“Good girl,” was his reply, and I frowned, almost bringing my knife to bare against his throat for that little comment.
No one was above my knife. Anyway, Malcolm suddenly went into protection mode too. He shifted his body in front of mine and crossed his arms.
“Who do you people think you are?!” yelled red face as he came within earshot of my wall of maleness. “Do you have any idea what she’s done? Don’t you dare hide her. She’s insane and completely disturbed. I want to know who she reports to now!”
The guys and I didn’t have official titles on this little raid. Tonight
, we were using ID’s identifying us as members of the Department of Defense or DOD. We had been granted special permission to question Simon on some national security issues once this operation was completed, or rather that’s what we had told the FBI in order to stay close to this case. The feds believed that Simon had knowledge bigger than the kidnapping and selling of children on the black market. We were under strict orders to let the FBI run the show with us here only as advisers.
That, as you well know, had gone to shit about an hour ago!
I shifted from behind Malcolm in order for me to see my quarry. He turned to look at me. “What, in all that is Holy, is wrong with you? What part of ‘We need him alive.’ didn’t you get? You, young lady, have single-handedly botched this operation, and I will have your head mounted on my wall for this. You blatantly disobeyed a direct order to stay at your post. And what you did to him… How you butchered him…” He shook his head, clearly disgusted at my version of justice. I didn’t understand how he could be disgusted. It was a mere case of an eye for an eye in my opinion…well, sort of.
The agent continued to give it to me, pointing at me, and raining spittle in my direction, inadvertently oblivious to the dangerous tempers that were brewing around him. It was the same vibe I had gotten when the guys walked past me.
“You’re reckless, erratic, and a danger to everyone around you,” continued the agent. “If you ask me, you should be locked up somewhere and not roaming free. You definitely shouldn’t be carrying any sort of weapon. Good God, woman, what’s wrong with you?”
Before red face could continue to berate me, and before I could actually gut the pig, the agent to the right of him decided it was time to share his presumptuous two cents.
“Psycho fucking bitch,” mumbled the agent low in his throat, but not low enough, apparently.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Josh growled, literally and started for the agent.
Oh shit!
Joshua Leone Cooper was about 6’3” and two hundred plus pounds with a very nasty temper, in case the agent hadn’t discovered that by now. His fuse was short and wrath deadly, which was a combination you didn’t want to see on a man like Josh. The agent in front of him was just as tall and big. However, he seemed to shrink before my eyes.