Page 53 of Cooper's Command

“You actually think Harris will leave his buddies behind for you? That’s ballsy.”

She didn’t react at the mention of Cooper’s name, aware Simmons was testing her. “I never said it was for Harris.”

“You don’t have to. I know all about you and him and that Brotherhood organization. You never should have brought him to that crime scene if you wanted to keep your relationship secret.” Simmons waved at the shadows. “I assume he’s around here, somewhere.”

“Just like all the men you brought along. I’ll admit. I’m curious how many you thought you needed to handle me?Three? Five?” She snorted when his eye twitched again. “More than five? Wow, I’m flattered.”

Simmons shook his head. “You weren’t lying. You’re nothing like Paulin.”

“I just hope these guys are better than the last because…” She cringed. “That didn’t end well for them.”

The cocky smile slipped slightly from his lips. “I doubt you’ll have a chopper handy to rescue your ass, this go ‘round. Though, I suppose I should have seen that one coming.”

And just like that, she had him.

Nova shrugged. “I don’t need one.”

“Right, you’ve got Harris. What is he, ex-Coast Guard? Does he even know how to hold a gun?”

Nova paused, praying Cooper was in position because this was it. “It’s not Harris you need to be worried about. It’s my other backup.”

Simmons glanced at the shadows over her shoulder then scanned the room, frowning. “Okay, Martin. I’ll bite. Who should I be worried about?”

“Whiskey.”

One word. And everything happened at once.

Cooper stepped out of the darkness off to her right, ghosting into view like a phantom. Nothing one second, then him moving forward, rifle notched in his shoulder, looking every inch the warrior he was. Not that Simmons had time to react because Whiskey was out in front. Eating up that distance as if she’d been sent from heaven. Had some kind of turbo pack strapped onto her back because less than two seconds and she was already leaping at the bastard — grabbing his arm as she bowled him over. All but knocked him through the floor from the force.

Simmons screamed, writhing on the ground as the dog shook its head, flicking Simmons’ pistol across the floor. Then she started dragging the man sideways, keeping him off-kilter.

Nova had her gun in her hand, was heading for Simmons, when Cooper barreled into her, taking her both to the floor then rolling behind an overturned table as the room erupted with bullets — Simmons’ other backup racing out from opposite sides. Shell casings hit the ground like rain, bouncing in every direction as bullets ricocheted off the walls.

Whiskey yelped, rolling across the floor a second later, making Nova’s heart stop cold. Because if anything happened to Cooper’s partner…

She gave Cooper a shove, yelling above the noise. “Go. I can handle myself.”

Cooper grunted, then he was up and firing. Taking out two of the men before he turned and raced over to Whiskey, covering like he had Nova. Trusting his crew to eliminate the remaining threats. Taking a graze along his biceps before his team downed the last guy. Not that he was safe when Simmons staggered to his feet, blood eating up his shredded sleeve as he raised his gun. Not quite at Cooper but Nova had no doubts the bastard would zero in if given the chance.

That was all the moral high ground Nova needed. She simply rolled to her feet and fired. Hit Simmons in the hand and thigh, dropping him to the ground. She kept her weapon trained on him as sirens blared in the distance before the door burst open, cops swarming inside.

Nova let her pistol swivel on her finger before placing it on the ground, hoping the officers didn’t kill her on sight. What was libel to happen with the tension practically suffocating the room. Making it hard to breathe, let alone think.

Simmons was screaming, telling everyone to shoot. Ranting about drugs and cartel, as if he hadn’t just confessed he’d ordered the hit on her. That comment about the chopper he’d let slip. A handful of officers stormed her way and she went to herstomach without being asked. The only way she knew this would go down until the situation got sorted out.

One of the officers had his knee on her back as he grabbed her arms before he was yanked off. She wasn’t sure if it was Bellamy or Rusty or Ethan, only that it was one of Cooper’s team. Yelling at the cop. Ordering him to get Emery.

That tension thickened, what sounded like threats passing between all the men before Emery was there, shouting at them all to stand down. Some comment about testosterone and how they all needed to shut the hell up and listen.

Nova stayed down, two other cops racing over to cuff her. They yanked her to her feet, when Cooper marched over, looking as if he was ready to brawl, Whiskey limping at his side. No blood, which meant she’d probably taken a hit or two in her vest. Still, thinking the canine had been hit had made her acutely aware that Cooper wasn’t the only one Nova had fallen in love with.

Nova shook her head, stopping him before he ended up beside her in a cruiser. She’d known this was how it would have to go down until Emery and Milligan were able to straighten things out.

She didn’t resist when the officers repeatedly shoved her across the room, manhandling her into the back of an SUV parked off to one side — out of the way of the other emergency vehicles arriving and leaving in a steady stream. What she assumed was Milligan’s Chevy. They shut the door, talking for a few moments before one of them headed back in, the other standing watch. A clear indication she wasn’t off of anyone’s shit list, yet.

She relaxed against the seat, her muscles still tense from the takedown, when a black Suburban rolled in from the rear, parking behind them. She stared at it in the rearview mirror, the hairs on her neck prickling, when the door opened and aman stepped out — the light from the police cruisers making the letters DEA stamped across his jacket glow.

Cartwright.

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