Fighting Chance (Misty Grove Book 1) Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Synopsis

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  FIGHTING CHANCE

  By Victoria Paige

  Copyright © 2016 Victoria Paige

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9906796-5-3

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, names, locations, events, organization, including law enforcement and judicial procedures, either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, places or locale is entire coincidental. The publisher is not responsible for any opinion regarding this work on any third-party website that is not affiliated with the publisher or author.

  Cover Design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc., http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com

  Edited by: Hot Tree Editing

  Synopsis

  One small town.

  One dead sheriff.

  A town with secrets.

  Newly appointed sheriff Trent Stone is investigating the murder of his predecessor. This leads him to Misty Grove, a town lined with innocent diners and general stores, but his gut instinct tells him that nothing is what it seems.

  It doesn’t help that his first encounter with one of its citizens is at the end of her shotgun.

  A beautiful hellion.

  Cassandra Reed is unlike any woman he has ever met. She’s tough and sassy, yet her eyes hold a vulnerability that calls to his protective side. Trent’s dedication to his job has always caused the demise of his previous relationships, so what is it about Cassie now that compels him to risk it all, especially when she has made it clear she doesn’t need his protection?

  When Cassie brushes off injuries from a suspicious incident, Trent’s need to serve and protect deepens into an alarming obsession over a woman who challenges his every instinct of self-preservation. Staying away from her is not an option, and he will be damned if he lets Cassie deny the growing attraction between them.

  But when the town’s secrets are revealed, he discovers he’s in over his head. As a mere sheriff, the menace that looms over Misty Grove is way above his pay grade. Before the threat can rip away the woman who has come to mean everything to him, Trent will have to make a tough decision. One that will give him and Cassie a fighting chance at a future together.

  *Strong sexual content and language. Can be read as a standalone, but may leave questions about secondary characters who will become the protagonists in upcoming books.

  Prologue

  Death would find her eventually.

  But not tonight.

  Scout gripped the fingers squeezing her throat and restricting her breath. After she had disarmed the guard of his rifle, he’d shot her with a tranquilizer dart, but the idiot should have known it took more than three darts to bring their kind down.

  He should have run.

  Twisting his fingers viciously, she felt bone crunch. The guard screamed in agony as fear beat back the triumph in his eyes.

  “Dumbass,” Scout muttered as she dislodged the guard from on top of her. With her grip further tightening on his mangled fingers, she rose to her feet while her former assailant remained on his knees, begging.

  “Please ... don’t kill me ... I was just doing what I was told.”

  “What? To put me down like some rabid dog?”

  The guard only looked more terrified.

  “What’s with the alarm?” The blaring sound hammered at her skull. Her sharp auditory senses were both an asset and a liability.

  “Chrysalis has been breached.”

  When the door to her room opened, the pounding in her head spiked to aggravating levels. She assumed an attack stance, ready to combat whoever came through that door. The brawny shape of her eighteen-year-old twin brother appeared.

  “Bear!”

  “Stop playing with that guard and let’s get the fuck out of here,” he growled, brows drawn in annoyance.

  Scout barely registered Bear’s words when another familiar face emerged from behind her twin.

  “Kate?” Scout whispered. It was her older sister. They were related, not by blood, but how their lives were intertwined. “Kate?” she repeated in disbelief. “They said you were dead.”

  Scout all but leapt into her sister’s arms, almost knocking her down. She pulled away slightly, and with exhilaration mixed in with tears, she asked a garbled, “How?”

  “I’m still hard to kill despite the regression,” Kate stated. She grasped Scout’s hand. “I have no time to explain, little Scout. We’ll have company in the next five minutes. I’d rather not be here by then.”

  Scout inclined her head in assent and turned to the guard who was still on the floor. “You. Stay.”

  The guard nodded vigorously and seemed to shrink further away from her.

  “Such a bully,” Kate remarked, turning to Bear. “What have you been teaching your sister while I was away?”

  Scout smirked and heard Bear chuckle before his answer was drowned out by the still blaring alarm when they exited into the cavernous hallway. It was now lit up by red strobe. The rapid exchange of automatic gunfire erupted from the south exit.

  “This way.” Kate pointed to the opposite end.

  “No, we need to get Piper.”

  “The SEALs got her, and they’re already moving toward the south exit, but it won’t be long before more Chrysalis reinforcements arrive.”

  “The SEALs?” Scout sputtered angrily. She wasn’t sure she trusted them with their youngest sister. “Aren’t they working with Chrysalis? Do you trust them?”

  Scout had worked with the SEALs before. She tolerated them because they had a common goal, but the whole bunch of them were condescending bastards who either treated her like a teenager or a freak of nature. But Scout and her kind were amazing at what they did, until they realized they had an expiration date.

  Two men in black camo met them at the cave entrance. Chrysalis was built in the lush jungles of Colombia. A clandestine government project buried deep in the CIA books.

  A Black Hawk awaited them in the jungle clearing. Even out of sight, her hearing could distinguish the rhythms produced by its rotor blades.

  “We got bad news.” One of the guys in black camo stepped forward. “Our team at the south entrance is pinned down by Chrysalis reinforcements.”

  “Piper,” Scout gasped. She was about to dash back into the cave when Kate grabbed her arm and shoved her toward Bear.

  “I got this,” Kate said, looking meaningfully at her twin. “Take care of your sister.”

  “No!” Scout yelled, struggling against Bear, but her twin was strong and had not earned his nickname without reason. “You’re not what you used to be, Kate!”

  Her sister had already disappeared into the cave.

 
Black Camo Guy squared his shoulders. “I got her covered.”

  “Eric,” the other SEAL said, “I’ll go.”

  “No. It has to be me. You know that, bro.”

  Scout continued to wriggle against Bear but noted the sudden tension between the two SEALs.

  Black Camo Guy’s hand landed on Scout’s shoulder. “I’ll get your sisters back.” His gaze lifted to the horizon at the sound of approaching choppers, his jaw slackening with dismay before hardening with resolve. The new arrivals were not friendlies. He inclined his head briefly as he took off.

  “Let’s go,” the remaining SEAL ordered brusquely. They raced the short distance through the brushes, and sure enough, a Black Hawk was waiting in the clearing. Its powerful blades kicked up dirt and debris around its windy radius. An airman was gesturing frantically for them to hurry.

  A blast shook the ground as an inferno ignited behind them. What followed was a nightmare. Scout screamed Kate’s name, but her voice sounded like it was in a vacuum. Her body flailed as Bear lifted her into the waiting chopper. She fought him hard and it took Bear and the SEAL to hold her down and keep her from leaping off their transport. As the chopper gained altitude, something wet hit her face.

  “Kate, Piper,” Scout sobbed in defeat. “We left them behind. They’re gone, Bear. We’re alone.”

  “Not alone,” the SEAL said, pulling her into a sitting position and staring into her eyes. “You’ve got me now.”

  Scout realized with wonder that it was his tears that fell on her face. Weren’t these guys supposed to be hardened badasses? It then suddenly hit her that, despite the dim lighting in the chopper and the face paint on the SEAL, there was no denying the similarity in features of the SEAL before her and Black Camo Guy.

  He had lost his brother.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Twelve years later

  Buckland County, Georgia

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  Trent ignored his deputy’s cautionary words and drove through the small town of Misty Grove while taking in the land’s interesting details. Though the town’s citizenry numbered less than three hundred, it was enough to cause heartburn for the leadership of Buckland County.

  “Relax, it’s time we paid the owner of Montgomery Ranch a visit.”

  “You don’t just pay Colt Montgomery a visit.”

  “He wouldn’t return my calls,” Trent replied.

  As the newly appointed sheriff of Buckland County, it was within his interest to investigate the circumstances surrounding his predecessor’s murder three months ago—shot down in a drive-by in front of his wife and teenage son. According to his wife, the killer was in a black Toyota sedan, no license plates. It was also well-known that the former sheriff and Colt Montgomery were close friends.

  “He’s already been interviewed countless times by the sheriff’s office, even by the GBI. It’s their case anyway.”

  GBI was the Georgia Bureau of Investigation, but Trent had already spoken with its director, and with the governor’s backing, was given permission to investigate the case. Trent didn’t leave a lucrative and fulfilling career in law-enforcement training, specializing in asymmetrical warfare, just to deal with small-town crimes of shoplifting or drunk and disorderly conduct. Trent had been in Dallas training their SWAT team when the governor called him with a favor. A huge favor. Trent’s friendship with the governor spanned more than a decade when they’d both been operators of the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta, otherwise known as Delta Force. Trent shook his head to focus back on the present. His time as a D-boy was over and he’d rather forget some of the things he’d had to do then.

  “You hear me, Sheriff? You don’t want to piss off Montgomery.”

  Trent made a quick sidelong glance at his deputy, who was drumming his fingers on the passenger door. Something was clearly amiss with the sheriff’s department as they seemed to be protecting Montgomery and one other guy, who owned the adjacent two thousand acres that abutted Misty Grove. He’d hate to speculate that his department was on the take. The young deputy with him, Danny Brooks, seemed to be the most cooperative one on his force, which was why Trent had brought him along. But if Brooks didn’t shut up with his whining, Trent was going to drop him off at the diner he saw coming up the road and head to the ranch himself.

  Misty Grove was a quaint town given how young it was. No two structures were alike and the facades were aged to look like it’d been built in the early 1900’s. Trent would have been fooled if he hadn’t known that twelve years ago, all that stood here was a gas station. From there, a feed store, a general store, a diner, a garage, and other small locally owned businesses sprung up. Trent frowned as he passed the garage with the sign “Foster’s Custom Built and Repairs.” It was a sizable garage for such a small community. What made it more interesting were the rumors of the boxing gym attached to it. As if on cue, a big man covered in sleeve tattoos emerged from the garage and strolled toward a Jeep. The man didn’t glance at their passing cruiser, but something told him Tattoo Guy was well aware of them.

  A telltale prickle ran up the back of Trent’s neck. It was a sixth-sense he’d developed during his time in SpecOps and his instincts were usually spot on, especially when it came to danger. But why now? Why that man? For now, he’d keep those observations to himself. His deputy had held his breath when they’d passed the garage. Obviously, Brooks was expecting a demand from his sheriff to identify Tattoo Guy. Brooks would find out soon enough that Trent was far from predictable.

  As their cruiser left the half-mile stretch of commercial strip, the scenery transitioned back to the pastoral variety— rolling grassy hills, small cattle herds, and barns. Innocent enough, but Trent knew in his gut all was not what it seemed with the town of Misty Grove. A mystery skittered underneath its amiable surface. A secret he intended to uncover.

  *****

  Trent wasn’t expecting to be at the wrong end of a shotgun.

  Fuck.

  He stared down its barrel into calm hazel eyes. A woman with the face of an angel opened the door to the ranch house and stole his breath away. Trent was pissed at himself because him getting caught off guard was almost unheard of. He was a quick draw, and he had no doubt he could have had this woman at a standoff, but there were just too many unknown variables at this point—Brooks being one of them. One dead sheriff in three months was already one too many, so he raised his hands in a gesture of non-hostile intent.

  “Goddammit, Cassie, lower your shotgun. That’s our new sheriff for Christ’s sakes,” Brooks yelled from behind him. From his peripheral vision, Trent noticed his deputy had drawn his weapon.

  “You guys are trespassing. The gate was closed.”

  “It wasn’t locked,” Trent stated calmly, but she was right, they were trespassing. Cocking his head slightly to the right, he addressed his deputy. “Brooks, lower your weapon.” Returning his attention to the hellion in front of him. “Miss, you do realize I could haul you into lockup for threatening an officer of the law.”

  “I’m the one with the gun, Sheriff,” came the saucy reply, and there was no mistaking the amused tone behind it.

  The little witch was playing with him. Jesus, what had the former sheriff been allowing to happen?

  A flash of irritation crossed over her face. “What is it with people showing up unannounced?”

  Trent stilled. “You get trespassers often?”

  “You mean you’re not here because some dumbass ...” She clamped her mouth shut.

  “What are you talking about?” Trent growled, a protective instinct rising up within him. He didn’t get a chance to second-guess his reaction because the woman’s face shuttered into a stoic mask.

  “Nothing.”

  “If someone’s bothering you, miss, you should notify us immediately.”

  “It’s been handled.”

  Trent narrowed his eyes.

  A short laugh burst from the other end of the weapon. “Don’t w
orry, Sheriff. I didn’t shoot them and hide their bodies.”

  “I wouldn’t joke about something like that, lady.”

  The woman sighed as if bored with the conversation. “What are you doing here anyway?”

  “I came to see Mr. Montgomery.”

  “He’s in Kentucky.”

  “Kentucky?”

  “Looking at horses.” A pause and then, “You do know we raise Arabians around here.”

  “I am aware of the fact.”

  “And we mostly keep to our side of town, so you guys from county have no business here.”

  Trent heard Brooks groan behind him.

  “Cassie, is it?”

  “Cassie to my friends. It’ll be Ms. Reed to you.”

  “Is it short for Cassandra?”

  She stepped back and lowered her shotgun, giving Trent a full view of her angelic face that hid the heart of a she-devil.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, Cassandra, as far as I’m concerned, Misty Grove is a part of Buckland County and, as such, is under my protection.”

  “We don’t need protection.” She looked past Trent to his deputy, and that just irritated him. “Danny, did you explain—?”

  “Eyes on me, Cassandra, not Brooks. I’m your sheriff.”

  “You were appointed.” Her nostrils flared.

  “Until you elect a new sheriff, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

  Her hands tightened around the shotgun.

  “I wouldn’t aim that at me again if I were you,” Trent warned. “I may not be as tolerant the second time. Besides, I don’t think you ever planned to shoot me anyway. All bluster, no bite.”

  “Uh, Sheriff—” Brooks started saying.