CHAPTER ONE
WAS THERE A reason the men in her life—the important men who’d educated her, trained her, guided her—had all turned to the dark side? Was she the connection? Or was it just a coincidence that her father turned criminal and now her partner at the FBI seemed to have done the same?
Only on a much more sinister level?
Once again, her world had been smashed to bits by a man she’d trusted. And it hadn’t been smashed with a sledgehammer either. No, a damn wrecking ball in the form of an undercover assignment crashed through the glass house she lived in, launching millions of sharp shards at her delicate skin.
And it hurt.
God, did it hurt.
“One more chance, bitch. What the fuck are you doin’ here?” some dead-eyed brute asked her about five seconds after his fist connected with her face.
For the second time.
The additional punch disoriented her for a second, long enough to lose her sense of upright and meet the ground. Crash landing on the rock-and-twig-filled ground of the Tennessee forest felt about as wonderful as being socked in the face. Shit, she was going to feel this for quite a while.
If she survived.
On all fours, with palms and knees throbbing from the bits of gravel and dirt embedded in her skin, Stephanie spit out blood that had pooled in her mouth from the split lip. Fear clawed at her throat, but there wasn’t time for it. She had to think and think fast. “Hiking,” she said, the sound a bit muffled from the swelling. She stared up at the man who was as comfortable hitting a woman as she was lounging on her couch and watching Netflix. Not a good sign. It meant he truly didn’t give a shit about her life. “Got lost.”
And…damn…who knew talking with a split lip would hurt so damn much? Tears pooled in her eyes, but she’d rather die than let one of those suckers slip free. She wasn’t the toughest of chicks out there…physically at least. A few arrests during her time as a beat cop had resulted in physical altercations with significant bumps and bruising. She’d always put on a tough mask in front of her fellow officers but bawled like a baby in the privacy of her own home.
Dead-Eyes threw back his head and laughed before turning to his buddy, a guy so overweight Stephanie was pretty sure she could outrun him even if they broke both her legs. She’d never outrun Dead-Eyes, though. He was big, muscled, and packed a wallop of a punch. “You believe this bitch, Top?” he asked the larger man.
Top grunted and shook his head, his many chins wobbling like Jello. “Fuck no. No reason for a bitch to be hiking out here, Shark. Ain’t even any fuckin’ trails.”
Like he spent much time trekking through the great outdoors.
Stephanie bit back the smart-assed remark on the tip of her tongue. Silence was her best bet. Plus, this little gangbanger pow-wow gave her a second to reorient and breathe through the pain.
This entire thing had been a huge mistake. She wasn’t a field agent, but basically an FBI desk jockey for the Cybercrimes Investigative Division. Daniel Rey, her partner of the past two years, had been an undercover agent for the Human Trafficking Task Force for years. When the Bureau sniffed a case here in Townsend, Tennessee, they dragged Rey away from his cushy job and threw him back in the field. That was a year ago. She was his contact in DC.
Nothing more. It kept her plenty busy, investigating leads, following financials, learning all the players. But she wasn’t an undercover agent.
Yet here she was because he’d missed two check-ins with her in a row. Not uncommon for an agent deep undercover, but it was his first. So the Bureau had sent her to Tennessee. And she’d been the idiot to go off in the woods by herself.
“Get the fuck up, bitch,” Shark said. He grabbed her hair and started to yank her to her feet. She may not be out in the field often, but she’d been trained like any other agent. Reflex and hours of rigorous instruction kicked in. She reacted without thinking, ramming her elbow into his hard gut.
Shark grunted and released her hair. “Fuck!” he yelled.
Her heart raced and, for one second, she froze. Then her brain screamed run, and she took off like a rabbit.
She’d made it five steps when a strong arm tagged her around the waist and lifted her off her feet like she was a small child. And like a child, she freaked the fuck right out, kicking, screaming, trying to bite. But it was all in vain. Whoever held her was bigger, stronger, and meaner than she was. He squeezed her until she felt her ribs would pop right out of her sternum.