Page 29 of Montana Memory

I moved before he could blink.

One step forward, my left hand snapping his wrist sideways, gun shifting in his grip as his finger barely had time to tighten on the trigger. He made a choked sound, more surprise than pain, but it didn’t matter. My Glock was already in my hand.

A second later, it was pressed under his chin. Punk’s smirk was gone.

“Where’s Copper?” I asked, my voice low. Even.

His throat bobbed. “Shit, man. You—what the hell? You cops?”

I cocked the gun, the sound loud in the empty street. My expression didn’t change. “Do I look like a cop?”

He swallowed again, eyes darting to Jada, then back to me. His bravado cracked.

“Fine. Yeah. I know him. I’ll take you to him.”

I stepped back, letting the tension stretch. Then I flicked the safety back on and shoved the Glock into the waistband of my jeans.

“Lead the way.”

The building he led us to smelled like sweat, smoke, and something rank beneath it all—rotting wood, maybe. The walls were peeling, covered in graffiti, the floor scattered with trash. A single exposed bulb flickered in the ceiling, casting long, erratic shadows.

Copper looked exactly like I expected him to be—sprawled in a beat-up chair, boots kicked up onto a scuffed table, a cigarette burning between his fingers. Two guys flanked him, both watching us with the kind of lazy interest that only lasted until they saw something worth moving for.

But it was Copper’s reaction that mattered. His gaze landed on Jada first, and the smirk that spread across his face sent a slow burn of rage through my veins. “Didn’t think I’d see you again, sweetheart.”

Jada went rigid beside me, her breath shuddering just slightly—enough that I knew she was scrambling for a memory that wasn’t there. But before she could speak, I took a step forward, my body shifting in front of hers. Blocking his view.

Copper’s eyes flicked up to mine, and for the first time, I saw a hint of curiosity. He hadn’t been expecting me.

“What do you want?” he asked, voice slow, casual.

I didn’t waste time. “Information.”

He exhaled smoke, studying me. “Gonna need you to be more specific, man.”

“The memory drug,” I said. “The one you call Blank Space. Who makes it. How to counteract it.”

That smirk twitched again. He took another drag off his cigarette, then tapped the ashes onto the table. “You came all this way for that?” His eyes flicked past me toward Jada again, calculating. “Or is this about something else?”

I clenched my jaw. “The drug.”

Copper chuckled, shaking his head. “You boys never learn. You think you’re owed something?” He spread his hands wide, like he was delivering bad news. “Not how it works.”

That didn’t even make any sense. Copper didn’t know me. I had no sense of entitlement. His men shifted beside him, their weight settling. Readying.

This wasn’t about the drug at all. I already knew where this was going.

Good.

Because I was ready, too. “All I want is information. This doesn’t have to get ugly.”

He jerked his chin toward his guys. “I’ll tell you what. You put down my boys here in under a minute with no weapons, I’ll give you the answers you want.”

I exhaled through my nose, slow. Controlled. “And if I don’t?”

Copper’s smirk sharpened. He flicked his cigarette away and spread his hands wide. “Then they do whatever they want with you.” His gaze slid past me to Jada, and something inside me went ice-cold. “And the woman with you? She’s mine.”

Jada tensed beside me. I didn’t look at her. Didn’t move my eyes from Copper’s smug face.

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