Page 128 of Intense


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I picked the lock in no time and then slowly pushed the door open, moving in.

My gun was out and ready, barrel pointed forward. I stepped into the entryway and shut the door behind me.

Nothing looked different or out of place. Nothing was knocked over or moved at all. The blood in the formal living room was gone, cleaned up by the team Blackfire had sent.

I did a quick sweep of that room and then moved back to the steps and climbed them, staying low and silent. I didn’t hear a single sound from upstairs as I made it to the landing.

I cleared each room, one after the next. Each room looked totally normal, the beds made, everything clean. If something bad had happened in the house, there was no sign of a struggle.

But there was also no sign of Tara’s parents or Coop. Their car was still in the driveway and Coop’s car was parked two streets over, but they were all empty. Once I finished upstairs, I moved back down the steps cautiously.

Travis should have swept the bottom floor, and if anyone was still in the house, we would know by now.

“All clear upstairs,” I called out.

“Captain,” Travis said, and I could hear the pain in his voice. It hit me like a sledgehammer, and I knew. In that instant, I knew. “In here.”

I stepped into the kitchen.

Cooper was propped up against the oven, his throat cut open, a bullet hole in his skull.

I stared down at Coop, my whole body numb. We’d lost comrades before, good men, but Coop was a friend. He was so fucking young, too.

“Looks like it happened in the garage,” Travis said. “I think they cut the throat after they killed him and moved the body here for us to find it.”

“The parents?”

“Nowhere.”

“Fuck.” I could feel the anger washing over me then, replacing the numbness with a fire that threatened to burn the world to ashes. “Fuck. Coop was a good man.”

“Yeah,” Travis said, looking away, “he fucking was.”

“Sweep the place. Take anything that might help. We’ll call Blackfire and have this place cleaned, but we’re going after that.”

“Roger that, cap.” Travis gave Coop one last look and then turned away and left.

I stared down at Coop for another second, anguish and anger rushing through me. Those bastards. I didn’t know how they got the drop on Coop, but he didn’t deserve this. I knelt down and gently shut his eyes.

“Your fight is done, brother,” I whispered.

Then I stood and turned away.

That was the end every SEAL faced at every moment in his job. Every SEAL was trained to face death and to fight on, and I knew that was what Coop had done.

I was going to find Omar and all his men and I was going to kill them, plain and simple. I was going to kill them with my bare hands if I could, and if I couldn’t, I’d use hot steel and explosive powders.

I was fury and death incarnate. Rage flowed through me unchecked, unbounded. I was going to tear them bit by bloody bit until they screamed and perished.

Travis returned a moment later. “Come look, cap.”

I followed him, slowly raging, boiling deep down in my body. Travis led me out into the garage where I was faced with a grisly scene.

There was blood everywhere, all over the floor, on every surface. Something had happened here. Clearly they’d killed Coop, but something else had happened. Objects were knocked over, paint cans upended, sports equipment torn from the walls.

“He struggled,” Travis said.

“Yeah. Wasn’t enough.”

“But look at this.” He crouched down next to something and pointed. “What do you make of it?”

Next to one of the cleaner spots on the floor was a drawing in the blood. It looked like a mitten.

I cocked my head. “I have no clue, but Cooper clearly left this for us.”

“Shit,” Travis said. “It’s like a baseball glove or a mitten.”

“Take a picture. Let’s get out of here.”

Travis nodded and took out his phone.

I left the garage, heading back out of the house. Cooper had struggled and left us a clue, and we were going to use that to find his killers.

This was far from over.

27

Tara

I woke up slowly to an empty bed.

As I stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling, I remembered everything that had happened in the last day. I remembered the attack, the blood, the bodies, and Emory. I remembered his mouth and his fingers and the incredible bursting buzz that rolled over my spine as I came.

I remembered it all, gripping the sheets.

“Damn,” I said out loud, just to hear my own voice.

For a second, I thought I needed to get up and check on Mason, but then I realized that I had left him at Lindy’s, and a part of me felt awful. I hadn’t been away from Mason for any serious amount of time before. Sure, I’d left him to be watched by Lindy or my parents, but I felt like this was different.

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