Page 70 of Cougar

Dizz lets out a small, menacing chuckle, “Hmm, let’s play.”

His fists connect with my face so many times I’ve lost count. When the crack of my nose resounds throughout the barn, he shifts his focus. I make the mistake of turning to face Sandy. His face is stone, but tears are streaming down his face. Maybe, just maybe, he still loves me.

All of a sudden, I feel a crack, and I scream out in agony. I missed what Dizz did—too focused on the man I love, but I can tell he’s broken one of my arms.

“No!” Sandy shouts. “Stop, Dizz. Please stop! He’s my Ol’ Man. Stop! You can’t do this to him!” he’s begging, and I almost miss it due to the pain I feel, causing my ears to ring. “Dizz! Fucking stop!”

Miraculously, he does. But all he does is shift his focus. Even though I hurt and my arm is on fire, I start thrashing, attempting to get Dizz’s attention back on me. It’s fruitless, though. His fists connect with Sandy’s body, and I scream harder than I did when his focus was on me. The love of my life is getting his ass handed to him, and I can’t do a fucking thing about it!

My pleas and screams are ignored. Angel got a good hit in, telling me to shut the hell up. Dizz makes, what I can only assume, is a motion to break Sandy’s bones too. I can’t let him. I wasn’t naive enough to think we wouldn’t have a fight, but I never imagined it would come to this.

“Enough! Enough, please. I’m a federal agent! Please. I’ve been undercover trying to take down The Company. Stop hurting him, please,” I let out on a barely there plea. The noise of the room comes to a sudden halt. I look at my love, and he does nothing more than hang there. My hair is gripped, and my head is pulled back. Staring me in the eyes is Cowboy. When the fuck did he get here?

I take a quick count of the bodies in the room. At some point during this tenderizing Dizz so lovingly called it, the rest of the MC showed up.

“The fuck did you just say?”

I swallow, “I said, I’m a federal agent. I’ve been undercover this whole time. I’m not your enemy.”

He scoffs, throwing my head back. I hit the pole, but thankfully, not very hard. “You think I’m going to believe you? You’ve shown you’ll say anything to save his sorry ass,” he seethes as he points to his brother. “Where’s your badge, huh? Can you prove it?”

I keep my mouth shut, trying to come up with a way to prove to him I am who I say I am. I cough in an attempt to hide my delay when it finally clicks. “Call Artem.”

“Try again.”

“I’m telling you the truth! Call Artem. I’m a damn fed.”

I attempt to continue, but Cowboy decides to get in punches now. I’m sore, and my arm feels as if it’s been obliterated, but they’ve left Sandy alone. Which is all I can ask for. I don’t know how long he continues, but when he stops, he tells me to tell him the truth this time. So, after catching my breath, I continue as if I hadn’t stopped talking in the first place. I go to begin but take a quick pause as I see Cougar behind him, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“I’ve been working with an elite team attempting to bring down The Company for almost five years. We’ve never been as close as you have gotten. I had finally gotten a small lead—I knew Mallory was alive, but I couldn’t prove it. I tried to tell San—Knuckles, but I had to be creative about it. I knew you were all looking into them as well. Same as I know they’re why Dizz left.” I see him shuffle, trying to get back to me, but Angel pulls him back. “But I couldn’t prove anything. They eluded us for years. But then they show up on your doorstep and—”

“—And you targeted me?” Sandy asks. The first time I’d heard him talk in a while.

“No! I didn’t know who you were when I saw you. I told you everything about us, and our relationship was the truth. I only lied about my job.” I need him to see the truth in my eyes, but he doesn’t. I know he doesn’t. I can see it.

“Funny thing about a lie, Whitley. Even if it’s small, it taints everything you’ve ever told me.”

His words hurt more than any hit my body took. He doesn’t see how much I love him. How much I was trying to do the right thing by keeping him in the dark. All I did was make him see I’m not worth it.

And I never will be.

“Chto, chert voz’mi, zdes’ proiskhodit?” I hear, and everyone facing me turns toward the doors. Artem is storming through the barn, right toward me. “Why do you have my informant strapped to your pitiful ring?”

And just like that, everything changes.

Thirty

Knuckles

I watch as Whitley is helped down from the ring by Artem’s right-hand man, Rafe. I can’t help the ache I feel or the need to rush toward him. To comfort him. They messed me up, but they fucked him up. He kept shifting the fight back to him. He wanted the hits. His body slumps. His arm is fucked. My need to be by his side is even stronger now. I can see his pain. I want to look Whitley over and take stock of his injuries. How could they do this to my Ol’ Man? Their Ol’ Ladies are off limits; why isn’t he? Why couldn’t they talk to him? Why’d they have to beat the living fuck out of him? Never have I wanted to hurt my brothers the way I do now. I want to go after each one who laid a hand on him. Yet, at the same time, I want to fuck Whitley up. The lies he told. This truth that’s been shared. How could he do this to me?

Now all I have are questions. Questions and a whole lot of pain. First, I’m told he’s one of Connard’s men, then I’m told he’s a fed, and now, Artem is saying he’s his inside man.

Who is he really? What the fuck is the real truth?

“This is why you need to leave the interrogation up to me. I can make them sing without this much damage.” Artem tuts at them.

Dizz sneers at Artem before turning his focus to Whitley, “Talk.”

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