King limped down the path, chain-link fence topped with razor wire on both sides of him and an armed guard at his back. He wanted to run from this place and never look back. He’d hated every second he’d spent behind bars. Although he hadn’t broken the law to get here, a part of him believed he deserved the last one hundred and fifty-three days in jail for what happened to Erin long before he ended up locked in a cell.

He shook off those dark thoughts, buried his guilt once again, and concentrated on the man standing outside the gate ahead. He stopped in front of it and gave his DEA counterpart, Trigger, an irreverent grin.

“You have no idea how much I want to tell them to keep your ass locked up.” Trigger stood with his arms folded over his chest.

“How will you win back the title if you don’t let me out of here?” A mocking smile tugged at King’s lips. He’d won the last shooting contest, stealing the title of best shot from Trigger. His last many months undercover in the state prison had him out of practice. He’d be no match for Trigger right now.

Trigger signaled for the officer at King’s side to go ahead and let him out. Before he stepped past, the officer held out his hand. King took it and held firm while the guy found the words so obvious in his gratitude-filled gaze.

“Thank you for saving my life, Flash.”

His cellmate Scott gave him the nickname because of the lightning bolt scar on his arm. He’d used it instead of the fake name he’d been booked under—Chris Hickman. As far as the guards and everyone but Scott in the prison knew, he was Chris, aka Flash. No one, not even the warden or the guard shaking his hand, knew he was undercover DEA.

King nodded to the guard, not saying anything. He’d done what he had to do during the fight that broke out in the prison yard three days ago. It became the perfect excuse to get King out of there on good behavior without serving the rest of his six-month sentence for drug possession with intent to sell. He’d gotten in good with Scott Lewis’s crew and put himself in a direct line to Iceman, though he planned to take an indirect route to Iceman’s demise.

The officer released his hand and waved him out the gate. Guards in the tower watched King leave and gave him a salute. He’d saved several people’s lives in addition to the guard who locked the gate behind him. If he hadn’t stopped that fight, it might have turned into an all-out riot.

He appreciated their gratitude, but he didn’t want to see them or the inside of this place ever again.

The clink of the gate behind him echoed through his ears. He raised his head and looked up at the dark sky and stars and breathed in his first real taste of freedom.

“You okay?” Trigger asked, concerned by King’s unnatural quiet. Normally he’d be the guy cracking jokes and flirting with the gorgeous woman leaning against the Camaro behind Trigger. He didn’t have it in him at the moment. Not because it was just after three in the morning and he hadn’t slept. Hell, he’d barely slept at all in the noisy jail. But as the days went by and he’d put his life on the line more than once in that hostile environment, he’d started to wonder if it was worth it. Was what he was doing going to make a difference? Would it lead to Iceman spending the rest of his life behind bars where a man like him belonged?

King wasn’t so sure anymore.

Worn down and out, he wanted to step back and take a breath. Not going to happen. The next step in his assignment started now.

“King, if you’re not ready . . .”

“I’m ready,” he lied, though not convincingly if Trigger’s narrowed gaze was any indication. “What do you have for me?”

Trigger motioned him to walk over to the car.

King stepped up to the woman who walked toward him with her arms out. She embraced him in a hug that he returned with a soft squeeze because damn it felt good to feel a beautiful woman pressed up against him again, even if she did belong to another man. She smelled like flowers. He inhaled, hoping to erase the acrid stench of too many men crammed together in a tight space mixed with the awful food they served and inmates who liked to throw their urine and feces at the guards to fuck with them.

Ashley Swan, movie star and Trigger’s fiancée, pulled back and looked up at him. “You don’t look so hot.”

“You’re gorgeous as ever. Ditch the dirtbag and run away with me. I haven’t had sex in months. The first time will be fast, you probably won’t even notice, but after that, I swear I’ll treat you right.” Flash found his smile when Ashley giggled.

“With your tiny pecker, no woman would notice, no matter how long it took you to get your rocks off. Now unhand her or I’ll shoot you.” Trigger might be joking about his “tiny pecker,” but not about shooting him if he didn’t hand his fiancée back. After all they’d been through together after Ashley escaped her year-long captivity from a psycho serial killer, King understood Trigger’s protective streak. Trigger had almost lost Ashley when Guzman struck a deal with that psycho to not only kill Trigger, but sell Ashley back to him for the price of the drugs Trigger cost Guzman during another raid.

Now Trigger and Ashley were happily living on their ranch with the little boy they saved from the same man who tried to kill Ashley. A boy who was actually King’s ex-cellmate’s son, and King’s way in with Iceman’s crew.

Trigger gave up the undercover work, but was here to give him any new intel on Iceman and his crew who had taken up where Guzman left off after Trigger killed him.

Ashley ignored Trigger and held King at arm’s length. “How bad are you hurt?”

“A few nicks and scratches, nothing serious,” he lied again.

Trigger eyed him, then pointedly dropped his gaze to King’s thigh where he’d been shivved by an inmate hell bent on taking out one of Scott’s crew but only ended up shot dead after he stabbed King. Luckily, King saved that other guard and put his hands up before the crack-shot guard took him out, too.

Ashley touched the bruise on his jaw where he’d been sucker-punched during the fight. “I probably don’t want to see what the rest of you looks like, right?”

“You want to see it, honey, I’m happy to show it to you.” King liked to razz Trigger by flirting with his girl. It actually made him feel a bit more like himself to let his guard down and fall back on old habits.

“Enough.” Trigger pulled a stack of folders out of the car through the open window and set them on the hood. “Here’s what we know about Cara Potter.”

“I still don’t get why I had to serve time to get close to her.”

“You’re the one who set up the plan to get in Iceman’s crew,” Trigger pointed out.

“Yeah, but the second we found out we could use her, why didn’t we go after her?” After months in jail, King could no longer see the reasons for it if they weren’t going directly after Iceman.

Trigger sighed. “You know why. She takes one look at you, she won’t believe a guy like you would want to work in a coffee shop.”

“What’s wrong with the way I look?”

“You’re a little banged up now, but you’ve got military stamped all over you with the way you carry yourself. You open your mouth without all the joking and sarcasm and she’ll hear your intelligence. What we don’t want her to guess is that the military led you to law enforcement and straight to her father. She’s got a weakness for ex-cons trying to better themselves. We’re exploiting that to our advantage. What you look like and where you come from won’t matter as much to her as the story you’re building that you’ve hit rock bottom in life and want a fresh start.”

Trigger laid it out for him without any animosity. Undercover for long periods of time, even Trigger had needed reminding sometimes about why they did what they did and the ultimate objective that sometimes got obscured by all the bullshit along the way.

Refocused, King hobbled over to the car and stared down at the five-by-seven photo of his target. Taken off guard by Cara’s delicate beauty, he stared at her porcelain face, pale blonde hair, and haunting blue eyes. He saw her father’s strong features in the stubborn set of her chin and her direct gaze. Something in her eyes spoke to a hard life that didn’t match her fairy-like features.

Trigger ran down the info. “We’ve had eyes on her for the better part of a month leading up to sending you in. Iceman dropped in to see her a couple times at the place she runs. It’s outside town at an intersection where gas and food are the last place to get them for about fifty miles outside heading back into town. Locals love her place. Long haulers are regulars. According to our guys, the homemade doughnuts and fresh-brewed coffee are worth the drive. Every man that goes into that place is in love with her.”

“Living with her will be a hell of a lot easier on the eyes than living with Scott, that’s for damn sure.”

Trigger gave him a look that said, Hands off.

King got it. She was a job. Nothing more. But give a guy a break. He’d been locked up in a sausage factory for one hundred and fifty-three days. Too long for a man who liked companionship with the fairer sex, even if it only consisted of sharing a few beers at the bar. Work consumed his life. He didn’t have time—or make the time—for relationships.

“On the surface, she appears to be a do-gooder. Takes in strays on probation or with a record that keeps them from getting gainful employment, so long as they swear they’ve left that life and want to remain on the straight and narrow. She doesn’t give second chances if they break the law.”

“She is their second chance,” King guessed. “I’ll bet she’s loyal to them so long as they are to her.”

Trigger pointed to a map. “That’s how it seems. She’s got a large piece of property. Mostly open land. She lives in the main house. She converted the barn into a kind of communal housing unit with four rooms, a large living space, and kitchen area. Right now, only one guy is living there. Ray McDaniel. Sixty-four. Lifetime criminal. Mostly drugs and minor assaults that amounted to nothing more than bar fights. One sexual assault charge, dismissed due to lack of evidence. He’ll be your roommate if she lets you stay.”

“She will.” To end Iceman’s rein in the Guzman cartel, he’d do anything to get Cara on his side.

“She doesn’t just let anyone stay there. The people who work for her have been with her for years.”

“Seems like there’s space for me at her place if only one guy is using those four rooms.”

Trigger opened another file. “Tandy is Cara’s best friend and works for her as a waitress. She stays in the apartment above the restaurant. Her rap sheet includes possession, pandering, and prostitution with one assault on a broke and doped-up john who couldn’t take no for an answer. She stabbed the guy and was kicking the shit out of him when the cops arrived. She was in and out of jail from sixteen until three years ago when she went to work for Cara.”

“What about the coffee house?”

“Crossroads Coffee.”

“So, not just where the place is located on the map, but a place for people who are at a crossroads in their life. Stay on the straight and narrow, or take another path.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it, but maybe that’s exactly why she named it that.” Tigger closed the file and stacked it with the others. “Everything we’ve gathered on her and Iceman and his crew over the last few months is in these files. Don’t get caught with them.”

King took the stack of papers.

Trigger pointed to the battered pickup parked behind the Camaro. “Ashley and I went to your place, cleaned out your fridge, and packed you a bag. The truck title says Chris Hickman, but trust me, it will be easier if you stick to everyone calling you Flash from now on. One person calls you Chris and you don’t answer, it could raise suspicions with Iceman. You don’t want him digging too deep into your cover.”

King took the advice. Trigger had spent far longer and deeper undercover than King ever wanted to go, but he wanted to see this case against Iceman through to the end.

“I left directions inside the truck cab for a motel on the outskirts of town. Get some sleep, your head together, and eat a decent meal.”

King needed it. He’d bulked up thanks to the hours working out in the prison yard with Scott, but the food sucked and he’d leaned down.

“Head over to the coffee place this afternoon when the morning crowd thins out. You shouldn’t have a problem getting the job. She’s down two employees.”

Suspicious. “Two? Why?”

“They eloped in Key West and decided not to come back.”

King tilted his head. “Did the DEA help out there?”

“No. Love and sex on the beach had everything to do with that. It worked in your favor.”

“A love story for the ages.” Ashley rolled her eyes and yawned.

“I can’t believe you guys drove all the way here to see me off. One of the guys from the local office could have left me the truck.”

“I wanted to see for myself that you’re holding up after being in there.” Trigger notched his chin toward the prison at King’s back. Exactly where he wanted to keep it from now on. “Ashley wanted to see you and check in with Scott. Plus, she refused to let me come alone, too afraid I’d fall asleep at the wheel.”

“Sweet.” King pretended to gag. “You guys make me sick with all your love and happiness. I just got out of jail and you flaunt your gorgeous fiancée and how concerned she is with you. You’re a jerk, you know that, Trigger.” For all his teasing, he kind of meant it, mostly because he didn’t have a woman welcoming him into her loving arms when he walked out of those gates. Trigger had been through hell this past year and ended up with an angel in his bed, his heart, and in his life, forever and ever, Amen! as the Randy Travis song goes.

“Sorry I’m going to miss the wedding.”

“Agent Bennett will be available while I’m on my honeymoon.”

“You guys have fun. I’ll just be here taking down the bad guys.”

Trigger deserved all the happiness in the world.

King just wanted a little piece of it before he went back undercover again for God knows how long. Judging by the fact that Trigger showed up here and sprung him in the middle of the night to give him all this information, he wasn’t going to get any downtime before he headed straight for Cara Potter. And Iceman. He had some payback to dole out to that guy.

But first he needed to get in with his daughter.