While I’d considered myself unbreakable at one time, Cooper had found a way into my soul and only his decision to keep me in one piece allowed me to remain sane in light of this revelation. He held my future in his hands, but didn’t have all the information to make an informed verdict. “Before you talk to them, there’s something I have to tell you about the day we met.”
A smile pulled at the edge of his mouth. “What? Did you pick me out of the bar just like I’d targeted you?”
I relaxed slightly, his easy-going mood change a welcome element to the conversation. “Nothing like that, no.” I inhaled, trying to recall everything about that day. “Ryder sent me to make a pickup at the junkyard on Trop. I went, but our contacts were more than an hour late. The entire time I waited, I just had this really bad feeling.” I fisted my hand against my stomach to make my point.
“What happened?”
My breath caught as my mind’s eye played the events. “They wore Hell’s Angels cuts, but—” I stopped, staring at a tendril of one of Cooper’s tattoos I’d never paid much attention to before. “What is that?”
I pulled at his collar and ran my fingers over the hard edge of his shoulder. I studied the serpent slithering out of a man’s chest, taking in every gory detail. “I’ve seen that before.”
Cooper tensed under my touch, his eyes as hard as steel. “Where?”
“One of the men at the exchange had this tattoo on his neck.” I motioned just below my jawline with a single finger. “Right here.”
I cursed to myself. Forcing my gaze to meet Cooper’s, I dropped the sheet then began to dress. “They weren’t Hell’s Angels at all. That bastard set me up.”
“Who?”
“Ryder. Outrigger’s president.” I pulled on my jeans and crouched down to lace up my boots. “I should have figured it out sooner. I can’t believe I forgot about the tattoo. No member of Hell’s Angels would wear something like that.”
Cooper knelt in front of me, placing his hands over mine. His touch calmed me with spreading warmth, but didn’t extinguish the burning anger in my chest. “Slow down. Tell me everything. Do you remember what this guy looked like?”
I tried to breathe evenly, my temper getting the best of me. “Long hair, mustache, tall and muscular. He looked Mexican, but it was dark. I couldn’t tell for sure. You know him?”
He pulled at his collar and I was confronted with the serpent again. “Do you know what this is?”
I shook my head.
“It’s a covert group in the CIA, a group I used to be a part of until we were captured and taken prisoner in Afghanistan.”
“What happened?” I wanted to wrap him in my arms from his admission, but the hardening of his expression kept me in place. He clenched his jaw, sliding his teeth back and forth audibly. I couldn’t decipher most of the emotions rolling through him at the moment, but his eyes told me regret consumed a large portion of his thoughts. I’d never seen so much devastation.
“We were ambushed in the middle of an op. By the time we were rescued, the CIA deemed me the only survivor. They’d only tortured me, but killed the other men on my team. Never found out why. I never gave them more than my rank and serial number, but I’d survived.” His chocolate gaze connected with mine, the depths of his stare pulling me in deeper. “I was just a newbie at the time. I’d only been in the agency for a couple of months, recruited straight from the Rangers, and I didn’t want to go back to Afghanistan. I didn’t even want to investigate their deaths.”
“That’s understandable. You were tortured. Of course you didn’t want to go back.”
Cooper’s head dropped. “Doesn’t excuse my actions.” When he lifted his head again, the sorrow and pain vanished. He’d built up an invisible wall and buried the emotions he’d allowed me to witness. I imagined this was the side of Cooper he kept at the forefront of his career: hardened, professional, cold. I didn’t like it. “Two months ago, the CIA got a tip some of the men in my team actually survived and had taken a special interest in the Soto Cartel. Here, in Vegas.”
“What kind of special interest?”
He ran a hand through his short hair, tussling it even more out of control. “Mostly drugs. They want control of Vegas to bring in more. Satan’s Army is just one vein of the Soto Cartel. With me in the lead, we can go directly to the source and kill the monster.”
“And you think the guy with the tattoo is one of the men from your team?” This whole situation seemed too amazing.