Page 18 of Wyoming Cowboy Undercover

“You’ll be busy after supper, sweetheart.” Marshall patted her arm again. “Spending time alone with Alex. You have to make an effort for it to work.”

She pinched her lips while Alex beamed like a kid who was about to be unsupervised in a candy shop.

Gritting his teeth, Rocco wanted to hold her hand, give her the slightest touch of reassurance, but there were far too many eyes on them. “I promised to continue Mercy’s self-defense classes. It’s the least I can do. We should squeeze in one a day starting tomorrow.”

Mercy perked in her seat, her eyes growing bright. “That’s a great idea.”

“I never really got why you needed those classes to begin with,” Alex said. “I taught you how to shoot.” He glared at Rocco. “You know, I’m a deadeye. No better shot here than me. Bet I can teach her how to throw a punch and a kick just fine.”

Rocco cleared his throat to hide his chuckle. “There’s a lot more to it than that. I’m trained in jujitsu and Krav Maga. I’m teaching her how to survive and to handle herself in close-range combat. Not a backwoods brawl.”

Anger flashed over Alex’s face as he clenched a fist.

Rubbing everyone the wrong way, regardless of whether he was provoked, wasn’t going to do Rocco any good. He needed to make friends, but was well on his way to only making enemies. “I’d be happy to teach you a few things,” he said to Alex, trying to clean up the mess he’d made. “And anyone else interested in learning.”

“We’ll see if there’s time,” Marshall said. “You’re going to have full days, Rocco, starting at sunrise. Morning meditation. Our daily gathering, where I and others deliver homilies to the community. You’ll need to get acquainted with the security team. And of course, there’s the most important part, your unburdening session.”

Alex glared at Rocco, but the others at the table nodded and chimed in, including Mercy, as though it were vital.

Unburdening was their version of ashare-festwith one of their counselors, where you talked about your woes that brought you to the Shining Light.

He’d have to fake his way through it, which shouldn’t be too hard. His life was full of wounds and emotional shrapnel that had taken him to dark places. Not that he wanted any cult disciples digging around in his head. It would be far better if he could figure out how to stave off any unburdening altogether.

Whatever he did, he had to work quickly.

TWODAYS.

Almost.

Rocco had been on the compound for forty hours, almost two days, and had discovered nothing.

He spun in mind-numbing circles to the beat of music from a snare drum. He was with a group of novices in the middle of the quad. A large square meadow. On one side was their church, which they called the sanctum. There was the schoolhouse on another. Adjacent to that was a playground. The fourth side was the wellness building. A series of trailers where the counselors and Mercy worked. But he hadn’t laid eyes on her since lunch.

These people were experts at stonewalling and deflection. He thought his time in basic training in the army had been hell. Nope. The Shining Light redefined the meaning of the word.

Up before sunrise for morning meditation. Followed by prayer. Then yoga. A cleansing with crystals. Sermons or rather homilies from the great Empyrean and others. Climbing a tree as a metaphor for ascending to a higher plane. But really, it was just climbing trees for over an hour. Then someone needed an extra hand in the barn, where he had cleaned out stalls and shoveled hay. Of course, there was learning to connect with his soul through singing and movement, better known as dance. Next was balancing and unblocking his chakras through Reiki—an energy healing technique where Harvey, one of the elders, had to lay hands on him. A creepy, older dude with sagging skin who seemed to be touching him for all the wrong reasons.

And that was the word that kept springing to the forefront of his mind about this place.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.Down to how every activity had to be done barefoot, even climbing a tree. Like they were worried a novice would make a break for it, but couldn’t because they weren’t wearing shoes.

The one good thing was that he had avoided unburdening. All he’d had to say was that he wasn’t ready to share. They pushed, altering their techniques, and he kept repeating the single phrase until they stopped.

Sneaking out of the bunkhouse to investigate in the middle of the night had been impossible with guards posted at the front and back. A change in protocol that had started with his arrival according to the novices. Then there had been an emergency drill at two in the morning. A wailing siren had sounded. Everyone got up and gathered behind Light House. For a lecture, about safety and how during a real event that was the meeting point.

He had wondered if the drill was a sleep deprivation tactic directed at him.

Even though he learned nothing weighed on him, his frustration ticked through him like a time bomb counting down to when this mission blew up in his face. The worst part was seeing Mercy and not being able to talk to her. To touch her. To engage in any manner other than a shared glance because of her father’s perpetual interference.

There were eyes and ears everywhere. Guards constantly on patrol.

He looked around for any sign of Alex or Shawn. One or the other had been consistently keeping close tabs on him. Shawn was easier to talk to and had let it slip he thought the compound got their weapons from the Devil’s Warriors, an outlaw motorcycle club. He didn’t come across as an unreliable source, since he used to be in the MC, but Shawn didn’t seem the most informed either.

As Rocco whirled in the quad, pretending to empty his mind to the beat of the drum, he looked past the wellness building, not letting his thoughts divert to Mercy. Though she was a tempting diversion from this new kind of hell.

Tamping down his annoyance, he focused past the quad on the security building.

He’d only been inside once, to meet others on the team, and for a brief tour that included passing by a restricted area, where Rocco needed to venture. Then he’d been hurried out and handed over to Harvey.

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