Page 4 of Catch Me When I Fall

“Thought Red Snake was done with St. Louis, Gray?” Dominic asked, breaking the tense silence.

I did too.

Fuck, I really did.

There was something about that city, something pure. Purity didn’t belong anywhere near me, and I vowed that after helping Oasis last year, I would stay out of it.

“I’m going to shoot Mags in the fucking foot the next time I see him,” I muttered. Mags, an old buddy from the Marines and a dear friend, was now a cowboy at Hallow Ranch. A few years ago, his boss called me wanting me to find his bull riding brother—which led me to Oasis.

Now, here I was, dragged into this fucking mess.

“You shoot a Hallow Ranch cowboy, Denver Langston will send you straight to hell without even the fucking Grim Reaper knowing,” Dominic said, his voice firm.

Denver Langston wouldn’t think twice about killing someone who hurt those he cared about.

We were cut from the same cloth.

Twisting my neck, I looked over to Dominic, my lips twitching. “Might as well kick your ass out and send you to Hallow Ranch if you love that fucking place so much.”

He ran a hand through his hair, chuckling. “Place is quiet.”

Quiet was something none of us had ever really experienced; Hallow Ranch was the exception.

The others grunted and muttered agreements before Hayes got us back on track. “I can take it,” he offered, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can stay here, finish the Goodman case.”

My spine straightened at his offer, my body reacting on its own. My eyes dropped down to the picture again as something stirred inside me. “No. I’ll handle this one,” I told him firmly before looking at the others. “You boys stay here. Once I get a lead, I’ll let you know if we need to head to Denver early.”

Dominic grunted from the corner, his eyes on the city outside.

Ash shot me a look. “Maybe grumpy ass over here will be somewhat more bearable when we’re in the fucking Rockies.”

I ran a hand through my hair, my muscles aching from the brutal training session I put them through this morning. I walked around to the front of my desk and leaned against it, crossing my ankles and folding my arms over my chest. I looked at each of my men, grateful as hell for each one of them. Then, I gave it to them.

“Hayes, I’ll need you to run point on the Goodman case. Finish that shit. Whatever you find, send it over to Charlotte PD,” I ordered. Hayes Michell was my right hand, a fifteen-year veteran of the Air Force. We met three years ago, and he helped me build Red Snake from the ground up.

I looked over to Dominic, Red Snake’s weapons specialist. “Finalize the supply and make the order.” His blue eyes flashed as he nodded once.

My eyes found Jake’s brown ones as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Get me everything on her.” I pointed to the screen. “What you don’t get, I’ll get from Jones tomorrow. I don’t doubt this woman has some record sealed.”

My tech guy nodded, his jaw hard. “Understood.”

Finally, I looked over to Ash, Red Snake’s mission coordinator. “Get me on a fucking plane.”

The playboy smirked. “On it, boss.”

All these men were my ride or dies. We’d take bullets for each other, and we made damn good money doing it, finding people who didn’t want to be found. We worked hard for what we had and the reputation we’d built.

I just hoped that taking this case wouldn’t put any of that in jeopardy.

The day baseball star Dean Connors was found dead in his apartment in Chicago was the day I almost died—for the fourth time. While Dean had faked his death, I cheated it—numerous times. First in the Marines, and then in my line of work.

That was almost seven years ago. Dean Connors wasn’t dead, and unfortunately, neither was I.

In fact, both of us were staring at each other in the middle of Oasis as I waited on Jeremy Jones to make his appearance.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Grayson.” That wasn’t the dead baseball player talking. No, it was his gorgeous wife standing at his side. My eyes drifted to her, taking in her brunette curls, her ocean blue eyes. Her voice was sweet, but her body was on alert.

She was on edge.

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