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Chapter 7

Renegade

The next morning I'm raw after talking with Whitney. All night, I tossed and turned because nothing has been resolved, and I fucking hate it. I'm the type of guy that likes not to have anything up in the air. I have a plan for everything and I even account for most contingencies. It's how I've lived my life since I turned eighteen and got out from under my parents' roof, it's why I excelled in the military, and it's how I plan on living my life, including this pregnancy.

Whitney thinks she just handed me a rude awakening.

I have never in my life let someone push me out of anything the way I let her potentially push me out of my child's life yesterday. It had a purpose, though. After talking with her for a few minutes, I realized I need to re-group – I need a new game plan. Obviously Whitney isn't the type of woman who wants a man to take care of her any longer. She is strong, independent, and ready to take on the world without someone at her side. My thoughts are interrupted when my cell phone rings beside me, adrenaline immediately flowing as I see Holden's name on the caller ID.

"Renegade," I answer, because above anything else, that's who I am. It's who I became when Ryan couldn't deal with the hand life dealt him. In times of fear, chaos, deep sadness, and emotional turmoil, it became my shield against the world. It became my alter ego; the part of my personality that's not scared of anything.

"Everyone needs to report to base," his voice is urgent over the line. "Judge Hawthorne wants us to raid that property over on Old Mill Road."

Shit. These people have been working with the Strathers, and right now, they aren't my favorite family. We've raided that property twice before, and each time we find that their operation has grown more sophisticated. But that operation, they don't pay taxes, and the state of Alabama just can't abide by that. For every cent of profit it makes, the government wants their cut, too. When the government doesn't get their piece, they call us in.

"I'll be there, ASAP," I tell him, flipping on the KC lights embedded into the front grill of my truck.

This is exactly what I need, I realize as I push my foot down on the accelerator. Feeling and hearing the engine respond, the way my tires eat up the miles between myself and our home base, soothes me. The lights give me the ability to weave in and out of traffic, and I do it with abandon, driving faster than I probably should, but it's what I'm craving right now. An out of control ride I'm really in control of. The adrenaline courses through my veins, giving me the high I only get from being the junkie I am.

Within minutes I'm at our base, and I can't help the grin that covers my face as I see the rest of the team roaring into the parking lot, tires squealing and lights blaring.

"Let's do this shit," Ace, another member of our team, yells as he steps out of his Dodge Charger.

I hold out my hand for him to slap and he does as he walks towards me. "Agreed, I need something to take the edge off," I move my head from side to side, loosening my neck as I try to stretch out my shoulders.

"You okay?" he asks, looking at me closely.

I nod. "It'll all work out." And it will, I know it will. It's the getting there that's going to be the difficult part.

* * *

"Surveillance photos from yesterday show they've moved deeper into the woods. From up above, it looks like they've fortified the property next to the natural spring. Not sure if they've trapped it, but we'll know as soon as we get there," Holden tells us as he passes out information packets of what we need.

"How are they armed?" I ask. Normally that's not the question I ask, but now it means something. I need to make sure I make it out of this and home at the end of the day. That's never been something I've worried about before, but my life changed yesterday, in a way I never imagined.

Holden flips over his own packet, skimming whatever's on it. Looking up at me, his gaze meets me head on. "Eyes on the ground have told us that there is a lot of fire power, but they aren't formally trained. Chances are they're going to react, and that's it. If we can go in quiet, we'll have the element of surprise on our side and hopefully be able to subdue them without using our own fire power. The goal is take them peacefully."

Ace pipes up from where he sits. "Isn't that always the goal? Sometimes dudes with big guns though, they have that little man syndrome and get all fucked up with it."

"You do what you have to do to get your ass back here," Holden levels us all with a glare. "That's number one, above anything else. Whatever happens, we get back here. Let's suit up and head out."

* * *

Putting on my vest has never meant so much to me. It has always protected me and been a major part of my life, but today it means more. Renegade, get your shit together, I tell myself. I can't let my head get in the middle of this game; if I let my head get into the middle of it, I'm dead. When I'm out there, I can't let myself think about anything other than the job at hand. Letting personal thoughts creep in gets people hurt or killed. I have way too much to fucking live for right now.

Checking my gun, I put extra ammunition in my cargo pants pocket and grab my KA-BAR knife, sticking it in my waistband. At points there have been times when I've had to do hand-to-hand combat, and I want to make sure I'm prepared. I want to leave nothing to chance. I plan for all contingencies; in one of my pockets I even carry a Taser. If it gets bad, you want whatever it takes to get out of a situation alive.

"You ready?" Holden asks as he holds out a piece of gum towards me.

I chew it because it helps with my nerves, it allows me to focus on the rhythm of that rather than the beating of my heart or the adrenaline making my hands shake. I open the paper and pop it into my mouth. "I'm ready," I tell him, putting my earpiece in my ear.

"Then let's ride, brother," he says as he tags me on the chest. The hit of his knuckles is almost like a timer going off in my head. It puts me on high alert and sets my heart pounding. With those words, everything kicks into high gear and all of us make our way out to the garage, loading up into our armored vehicle.

The ride to Old Mill Road is quiet as we're all focused on our own thoughts. Mine centered on how I'm going to subdue and enforce, how I'm going to make it out without taking a bullet, and how I'm going to go home at the end of the day. I close my eyes; we've been to this property enough that I know the layout. I envision how I'm going to move once we get out of this vehicle. In my mind, I see the places danger could be hiding, where they could have made improvements, where they could have put traps. My focus and goal is not to leave anything to chance.

Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, my finger lingers over Whitney's name. I've not had a woman in my life since I started this job. It's always been a couple of nights here, a couple of nights there. One girl was a week, but by the end of that week, I felt so fucking suffocated I couldn't wait to let her go. Whitney though, she holds a piece of me – literally – and for the first time it hits me – what if I don't make it out of this alive. She won't even know where I was going, what I was doing.

Decision made, I fire off a quick message letting her know I'm out on a job, not to worry, but telling her that I want her to know what I'm doing. If something happens what she needs to do. Maybe it's morbid to be thinking about these things right now, but my life has done a complete one-eighty in the last twenty-four hours. With great clarity, I realize I need to change my beneficiaries as soon as possible with not only this place, but with my military pension.

I want to be a thousand percent honest with her, because I feel like Stephen wasn't that way. The good things, the bad things, the things that we aren't sure about. I want to share those with her – even if she doesn't want to share that with me yet.

"Two minutes out," I hear and now I know I need to let everything go. I'm not religious but in these moments before we reach a target, I always say a little prayer and give it to God. It's the only thing that lets me get through what are sometimes hairy parts.

I shut down the phone and put it in my tactical vest. Leaning my forehead down against the butt of my AK 47, I let my mind clear. I let it become blank and it's then that my hearing becomes superhuman; I'm completely aware of everything that's going on around me.

This heightened sense of awareness has saved my life many times and helped me through more missions that I care to count.

It's what makes me Renegade.

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