“We’ve got fourteen people,” Mick argued. “We can take the northeast positions and the one on the upper coast. There’s no way you can cover that much ground, Brynn.”
“I’ve got more people. Plus, I know the region better and have contacts with all of the camps along the coast. It makes more sense for me to take those,” Brynn said with exasperation.
Garrett sat sharpening his knife on a whetstone. In another man, it would’ve come off as silly posturing, but the action paired with Garrett’s grim expression signaled that it was time for Reese to move along.
She picked up the blue painted bullets Sloan had slipped her before the meeting started and placed two of them on the map. “Based on the intel we’ve gathered, there are only two outposts to the northeast. The council maintains a squadron of a couple hundred in the city and combined with the walls, they haven’t felt the need to fortify these remote outposts too heavily. Mick, I know you’re plenty capable of taking out all of the coastal stations but this is right in your backyard.”
She held her breath while she waited for Mick’s answer. He still clung to the belief that they should take all the ammunition and make one strong, concentrated push at the city. But the group had voted for Reese’s idea, and a year’s worth of planning had gone into identifying the outposts, tracking the Enforcers that rotated in and out of the guard towers, quantifying the manpower and weaponry they’d go up against. To assault the council would mean at least another year of planning, and no one was interested in that.
As the silence wore on, Sloan shifted restlessly behind her. Mick’s gaze flicked over Reese’s shoulder and then back to Reese. “Yeah, we’ll be able to handle them.”
“Good to have you on board,” she replied dryly, then continued as if there hadn’t been any hesitation. “If you go before the predawn guard changes, you’ll be able to get in and out without alerting the city. The Enforcers will be tired and ready to get the hell out of there.”
She pointed to the block east of the city. “Brynn, you’ll take the coast. There are three outposts there.” Reese set down the red shells at four points along the coast. “This one in the northeast and then two along the bay here and one farther south. You’re going to have to split your men up, and I’m sending you two extras from Foxworth in addition to the ten we’ve already assigned.”
Brynn nodded. “I’ll split us up into groups of ten. We should be able to take out each tower with little trouble.”
“That leaves the south for me,” Garrett said quietly. The steady schnick schnick of the blade stopped as he set it aside to reach for green painted bullets. He set them in a row south, almost along the old border lines Reese had seen on prewar maps.
He placed them in exactly the positions that Reese would have. Apparently Garrett had done some independent scouting of his own.
She bit back a lick of irritation at his covert activity, because it wasn’t as if she showed every card she had to the rest of the leaders. “Nice intel, Garrett.”
“Can never have enough,” he admitted. “But I’ve told you everything we know. Don’t worry, I’m not dumb enough to hold out on you.”
Reese didn’t argue. At this point, if she didn’t trust him, they’d be fucked.
“That leaves eight in the West. There’s no way you and Connor can handle all of those,” Mick protested.
“Seven,” she corrected. “We’re not going to bother with this one right now—” She tapped the southwest corner of the map. “It’s just a watchtower, no supplies, nothing that’ll make it worth our while. We can deal with it after we take out the bigger stations.”
“Fine. Seven. Which is still too much for you and Con.”
Connor raised a brow. “You an expert now on what I can and can’t handle?”
“These outposts aren’t going to be a problem,” Reese told Mick. “Each one is fortified the same way. Land mines spaced in a precise square three hundred yards out. The wall security is exactly like the ammo depot we hit earlier. The council isn’t very creative.”
Granted, lending twenty-two men and women to Brynn and Mick left Reese’s squad thin, but Con’s men could probably take down half the targets alone and Reese had handpicked the team members that would go with her.
But as confident as she was that they could handle it, the tightness between her shoulders refused to ease. It had nothing to do with the number of enemies she’d face, though, but the friend she’d have to deal with at the end of this meeting. Because she was a chickenshit, she’d put off telling Sloan about who would be on the Foxworth team.
“The council relies heavily on passive defense systems when it comes to these outposts,” Connor added when Mick opened his mouth to protest. “Most of them aren’t much more than watchtowers used to relay signals and provide a way stop for Enforcers in the field.”
“How many men per outpost?” Brynn asked.
“Five to ten,” Reese replied, laying down a few kernels of corn next to each bullet. “Maybe more if there’s an Enforcer sweep going through, but the council prefers to keep the majority of its troops close to home.”
“How reliable is this intel?”
Mick was looking to poke holes wherever he could, but Reese didn’t mind it. She’d rather argue with Mick all day long than face the battle she was going to have with Sloan once this business was concluded.
“We gather it regularly.”
“Meaning it’s only as good as your last spy run.”
“Sure, we could send out another set of runners to scope out each outpost, and by the time they got back, the GC could have changed the configuration. There’s no guarantees here. This is the best information we have.”
They all waited for Mick to lodge another objection. When it didn’t come, Reese figured it was time to bring the meeting to a close.
“Brynn and Garrett should leave first because they have the longest distances to travel. We don’t want everyone converging on Con’s camp at the same time. So space out the visits. Con and his men will provide you with the ammo you’ll need for the attacks.”
“How much are we getting?” Mick rubbed his hands together, finally showing some excitement over the plan of action. Or maybe he was anticipating his new toys.
Reese didn’t care either way. “Enough to blow up twenty outposts, but hopefully you won’t have to use it all. Any leftover ammo will be stockpiled until we’re ready to strike against the city.”
Brynn and Garrett spoke briefly about their departure plans. When Garrett tucked his knife away, Reese knew the meeting was over. The easy part had been dealt with.
She rose to her feet. “Kiss your loved ones and go screw your partners. This mission is risky as shit, so I’m not going to pretend that we’re all coming home.”
Brynn gave her a smile. “You always make the best speeches, Reese.”
She grinned, then exchanged a quick hug with Brynn and a solemn handshake with Mick. Garrett stepped up to her next, hugging her and whispering, “This is the right thing.”
Reese clung to his shoulders a moment longer than she intended before pushing the man away. The three camp leaders filed out the door, heading off to get a drink and maybe some food. Brynn planned to leave that day.
“Connor, a minute,” Reese called before he could leave.
Sloan had moved to the doorway, watching for a nonexistent threat, but she knew he could hear every word she said.
Connor drew up. “What is it?”
“I’d like to borrow Rylan.”
Reese swore she felt a breeze generated by the speed at which Sloan’s head whipped around. She ignored him and focused on Connor, who looked puzzled.
“For what?”
“Between us, we need to take out seven outposts. I can take three and you can take three. I’m going to lead one, and I have Nash and Beckett for the other two. I want Rylan to take
point for the seventh one.”
Behind them, Sloan made a sound of protest. Reese didn’t allow herself to acknowledge it. She’d known it was going to be a fight, but it wasn’t one she wanted to have in front of Connor.
Connor rubbed his lips together before replying. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”
Damn him for phrasing it like that, and in front of Sloan, no less. She blazed with sudden anger. “It is.”
“Hope you know what you’re doing.” He brushed past her and slapped Sloan on the back, then murmured something close to Sloan’s ear.
Was he inviting Sloan to be on his team? That was not what Reese wanted.
“Sloan will be staying here,” she nearly shouted.
The two men startled at the sharpness of her voice.
Fists clenched at her sides, she repeated, “Sloan is staying at Foxworth.”
Forgetting Connor’s presence, Sloan exploded. “What the hell, Reese?”
“I need you to stay here.” She forced herself to face his hurt, which was a million times worse than any anger he could direct her way.
“And do what? Fucking knit booties for Bethany’s baby?” It was a measure of how upset he was, because Sloan never spoke a word of criticism against her in front of anyone. They always presented a united front. Behind closed doors, he’d tell her she was foolish, her plan was stupid, or that she was making awful decisions, but never in public.
“I’m gonna go now,” Connor interjected, but neither of them paid attention to him.
Reese barely registered the click of the latch as Connor shut the door behind him. “It’s the best use of our limited resources,” she told Sloan, marshaling up the list of excuses she’d formed this morning.
“You’re taking one of Con’s men, depleting his team, and using Rylan when you have me here? Did I somehow break my trigger finger without knowing?” Sloan shot back.
“This is our town. Someone has to be here to protect them.”
“Bull-fucking-shit. There are plenty of men you could leave here. Nash. Travis. Jordan. Vaughn.” He rattled off the names of several competent men and women who could, indeed, protect the town.
“None of them are you.”
Damn it, didn’t he understand why it was crucial that he remain?
Sloan stalked over, stopping barely a whisper away from her. “You do not go anywhere without me.”
Her parched mouth grew even drier as she forced out the words that were forming a wedge between them. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
“This is about Rylan, isn’t it? You fucked him again and now you can’t bear to be separated from him for one moment?”
Her own guilt made her snap back. “You really think I’m making decisions with my pussy? Do you realize how insulting you’re being right now?”
“Do you realize how foolish you’re being right now?” he yelled. “You’re letting your emotions dictate your battle plans.”
Sloan was so furious, there was a vein pulsing at his temple. His hands were fisted at his sides, and just being near all that barely checked violence flooded Reese’s body with inappropriate desire. She wanted him to grab her, tear off her clothes and plunge into her with the same fury until every part of her body that ached and yearned for him was pounded into submission.
Lust was threatening to cave in her brain, erasing the words she’d cobbled together earlier. “This town is our heart. If anything happens to it, all of our plans are meaningless.”
“I don’t disagree.”
He marched forward and Reese had to back up to keep from being trod upon. She kept moving until her back hit the wall and there wasn’t any other place for her to go. No other place to look but at Sloan’s heaving chest or his angry, unhappy face.
“There are fifteen men and women who are more than capable of protecting this place,” he growled at her. “You need me in the field.”
No. She didn’t need anything, but, oh hell, did she want. She wanted him in the field. She wanted him in her bed. She was starting to crave him.
The sex with Rylan had screwed with her head. She’d never had such intense orgasms, and all she’d done was fantasize about Sloan’s touch. This morning she’d woken up bathed in sweat after having the dirtiest dream of her life featuring Sloan, Rylan, and herself tangled up in positions she was positive were not physically possible. She’d caught herself pausing outside of Sloan’s door after she’d climbed out of bed, her hand raised as if to knock. And do what? Throw herself inside, take his thick cock into her mouth, and beg him to face-fuck her like he did Rylan? No holds barred, nothing held back?
What then? Reese knew she was a selfish bitch, but she was trying to overcome that. She was trying to put that behind her.
She would not kill another decent man.
“When you first came here, you vowed you’d never challenge my leadership. I took you and Jake in based on that oath.”
Sloan’s face tightened at the mention of Jake’s name coupled with his. She knew what he was thinking—that she could never separate the two of them in her mind. That Jake’s sins hadn’t gone to the grave with him, but lingered like a radiation cloud around Sloan’s broad shoulders.
“Bullshit. You took us in because you wanted to fuck Jake.”
She sucked in a swift, hurt breath. That wasn’t true at all. She’d liked them both instantly, but it was Jake who’d made the first move. She hadn’t even realized that Sloan was interested until it was too late. Far, far too late.
“Talk to me like that one more time and you’ll need to pack your bags and leave,” she warned.
“Yeah? Then I guess it won’t matter if I do this.”
He slammed a hand on either side of her face and then his lips crashed onto hers.
14
It wasn’t a lover’s kiss. It wasn’t sweet or gentle or at all romantic. It was a feral attack by the animal Sloan kept caged. The one Reese had seen with Rylan. The one that prowled at the edges of what seemed to be his endless control.
He forced her mouth open, ravaging her with his tongue. She stood still for a moment, stunned by the power of his kiss, and then all of her inhibitions crumpled under the heat and pressure of his lust. With a strangled moan, she dug her nails into his shoulders and climbed him like a tree until her legs could wrap around his waist.
Sloan used his lower body strength to pin her to the wall. A commanding palm angled her jaw until he could plunder her mouth mercilessly. She dug her boot heels into his lower back and leveraged his own body against him, while her hands moved to claw his neck, score his scalp, marking him with everything she had.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned against her mouth. Then he grabbed her ass and held her while grinding his hips into hers. His cock was hard enough that it felt like iron between her legs.
She’d always worried about losing him. Always relied on his control whenever hers was weak. Except now he’d lost his, and if they were going to survive this, she had to find the will to break away.
But any semblance of rational thought was being pulverized with each invasion of his tongue, each pulse of his steel shaft against her core. The fervid attraction that had simmered between them for so long, that had been pushed back to the dim recesses of their minds, was coming to life. And it would devour them if one of them didn’t slam on the brakes.
As always, it was Sloan who found the strength. His lips gentled and the hand on her ass dropped away. He broke contact with her mouth and rested his forehead against hers, his chest bellowing like a thoroughbred’s. His heart beat wildly against her chest until he finally straightened and stepped away.
The loss was so acute, she nearly snatched him back. But if he could find his control, so could she.
“Go then and be careful,” he said gruffly.
Dry-mouthed and aching at the loss of his touc
h, she whispered, “Always.”
He drew a shaky hand through his hair before spinning on his heel. When he threw open the door, Rylan was behind it, his hand raised and a smile on his face.
One look at Sloan’s thunderous face and Rylan’s grin faded. “Did I interrupt something?”
Sloan didn’t look back at Reese, but she didn’t miss the slight slump of his shoulders. He thought he was being replaced, she realized.
But why? Why now? Sloan had never cared whom she slept with in the past. He’d always known that she relied on him more than anyone alive, but in that dip of his broad back, Reese now read fear. Fear that he was being replaced by the man in her bed.
She wasn’t sure if she should correct that assumption. If she did, she’d be risking a repeat of what had just happened. Sloan was her heart, even more than this town, and she refused to let her own selfish desires cost her the very last thing in her life that she cared about.
So she licked her lips and said, “No, Rylan, I need you.”
The words were like a shot to Sloan’s spine—or maybe a knife. He didn’t take Rylan by the throat, but he might as well have.
“She comes back with so much as a scratch and I’m peeling the skin from your bones, one painful inch at a time,” he hissed at Rylan. “If she dies, you better run, because when I catch you—and I will—you’ll wish you’d bled out beside her.”
Rylan winced in anticipation of the boom that never came. Instead, the door latched quietly into place, and the muted sound was more terrible than any rage-induced door slam.
“What the hell is going on?” Rylan asked uneasily. “Connor said you wanted to see me.”
Reese walked unsteadily into the kitchen. She needed a smoke and a drink. “Did he tell you why?”
“Said you wanted me to lead one of your teams.”