Page 32 of The Wrangler

Reed looked at her, his brow furrowing. Keely smiled mischievously, “What he said.”

They were ready. This ended today. Jesse cast one last glance at Keely. Then he joined the others to get ready for the fight.

11

KEELY

Keely sat at the long oak conference table in the Iron Spur’s private meeting room, arms crossed, eyes locked on the screens displaying real-time satellite feeds of Nico Alvarez’s compound. The heavy air in the room crackled with the unspoken understanding that tomorrow, one of two things would happen: they would end this, or they would die.

Jesse stood at the head of the table, arms braced against the wood, his jaw set in that immovable way that made it clear he was barely holding his temper in check. His eyes darted between the monitors and the team, but every time they landed on her, she felt the heat of his disapproval like a brand against her skin.

“We go in before dawn,” Reed said, dragging a hand over his face. “Alvarez has twenty men, maybe more, scattered across the compound. Perimeter guards, rovers, and a secondary team on standby in the city. We need to get them in one place.”

Dawson leaned back in his chair, twirling his combat knife between his fingers. “If we can get Alvarez to show himself, we can cut the head off the snake and take the entire operation down in one move.”

“Easier said than done,” Gavin muttered, scrolling through the tablet in front of him. “He’s paranoid as hell. The only way he’s coming out of that fortress is if we give him something he wants bad enough.”

Keely straightened. She knew exactly what that something was. “Me.”

Jesse’s head snapped up so fast she half expected him to break his own damn neck. “No.”

She ignored him, looking at the rest of the team. “I’m the one he’s after. He wants his diamonds, but more than that, he wants to make an example out of me. He can’t let me walk away from this. If I offer to meet him, tell him I’m willing to trade, he’ll take the bait. He’ll think he can get his diamonds and kill me—two for one. He won’t be able to resist.”

Jesse’s palm slammed against the table, rattling the glasses of whiskey they hadn’t even touched. “I said no.”

She met his glare with one of her own. “I don’t remember asking for your permission.”

The room went silent. No one spoke, no one moved. Jesse’s entire body coiled tight, his breathing deep and controlled, but she knew that look. She knew him all too well and knew he was close to breaking.

“Keely...” Reed started, but Jesse cut him off.

“Out. All of you.” His voice was a low growl, pure authority, pure command.

Hawke stood first, exhaling sharply. “You two fight it out. We’ll be at the bar.”

One by one, they filed out, leaving her alone with the one man who had the power to unravel her. Jesse waited until the door clicked shut before rounding the table, his steps measured, his presence looming.

“You’re not doing this,” he said, voice lethal.

She lifted her chin. “I am if it’s our best chance to catch this bastard.”

His hand shot out, fingers curling around the back of her neck as he hauled her up, pressing his body flush against hers. “This isn’t a goddamn negotiation, Keely.”

Her pulse pounded, heat curling low in her belly, but she refused to back down. “It never is with you, is it?”

His grip tightened, just enough to remind her who she was dealing with. “Not when it comes to keeping you alive.”

She reached up, fingers curling around his forearm, feeling the raw strength beneath his skin. “You can’t keep me locked away, Jesse.”

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. “Watch me.”

She shuddered, but not from fear. The way he controlled a room, an op, her—it shouldn’t thrill her the way it did, but damn if it didn’t make her want to push him harder. Test the limits of his restraint.

“I can do this,” she said softly, pressing against him, using every weapon in her arsenal. “We know what he wants, how he thinks. If we can get him out in the open, you’ll have a clean shot.”

Jesse’s fingers flexed against her nape before releasing her. He stepped back, dragging a hand through his hair, his control fraying at the edges.

“If this goes south...”

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