Page 64 of Wyoming Cowboy Undercover

All she could think about was her mother. What she looked like. The smell of her hair. The sound of her voice. How difficult it must’ve been for her, forced to decide between raising her child or having her freedom. An impossible choice.

Did her father tip the scales, threaten and poison her, coerce her into leaving without her child?

The idea was too monstrous to be the truth. But Alex had claimed to love Mercy, too, and look at what he had done.

The light shifted, sliding from twilight to dim, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Holding a lantern, her uncle led them into a cave. “Here is our weapons cache,” he said. There were stacks upon stacks of crates with a lightning bolt singed onto the side and metal trunks. “You want it, we’ve got it. Rifles. Anything from an AR-15 to AK-47. Shotguns—double-barreled break-action to sawed off. Submachine guns to .50 caliber. Ghost pistols. Hollow point bullets to armor-piercing. Rocket-propelled grenades. High and low explosives as well as blasting agents.”

A jagged bolt of fear ripped through Mercy, drawing every muscle tight. She stared at the cache of weapons, her eyes bulging in shock.

On the compound, they had a whole lot of guns, for defense only, but this...

This was the next-level. This was how wars were fought and won in small countries. This meant the death of countless innocent people. She’d never seen anything like this arsenal.

“Wow, this is seriously impressive,” Rocco said, his voice filled with awe. “I can’t wait to see what you have in store for tomorrow.”

Cormac smiled. In the amber light from the lantern casting shadows on his face, he looked like the devil. “We’re going to rain down hell on them.”

A pervasive sense of dread coiled through her, and she couldn’t imagine how this was all going to end.

Chapter Sixteen

Lying in bed, Rocco’s thoughts churned. Cormac McCoy had a bunch of hardened survivalists riled up and ready to shed blood tomorrow. It was a wonder how the Brotherhood of Silver Light had gone under the radar for so long.

Thanks to Mercy’s gutsy move, risking her life asking for her father’s help, the Brotherhood could no longer hide.

But Rocco still didn’t know what their intended target was or how he’d notify Nash once he did. The only thing certain was that if he failed, a lot of people were going to die.

Percy had been right. Something big and awful was in the works. Rocco wouldn’t let his death be in vain. He had to stop whatever was planned and keep Mercy safe, one way or another.

In the next room, he heard the faucet shut off. A door creaked open.

“Thank you again,” Mercy said.

Sue Ellen and Cormac responded from the living room, where Rocco had last seen them sitting in front of the fire.

“Good night.” Ducking into their room, Mercy closed the door, and a different tension invaded his body.

She padded over to the bed, set her toiletries on the nightstand beside the burning candle and undressed. For a moment, she just stood there, watching him taking in the sight of her. He was mesmerized by her beauty and grace. Her shimmering hair captured the light, making it sparkle. He was intensely aware of everything about her, her creamy skin, soft curves, the flush creeping over her face, down to her feminine scent.

The ache inside him for the woman he would protect with his last breath flared anew. He wanted her. Under him. On top of him. Building a life with him.

Mercy peeled back the covers and slipped into the bed. “Why are you wearing so many clothes?”

She tugged at his T-shirt. He sat up, letting her pull it over his head.

“Because I didn’t know if you were serious about us doing more than sleeping,” he whispered. “I couldn’t tell if it was part of the act.”

“It wasn’t.” She pressed her palm to his stomach and ran her hand up his torso.

Her touch struck him like a flame to kindling. Hunger poured through him.

“Were you pretending,” she said, straddling his hips and drawing her face close to his, “when you said you couldn’t keep your hands off me?”

“No.”

She brushed her lips across his in a slow, seductive caress. “Then why aren’t you touching me?”

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