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  Without Fear (Cobalt Security Book Two)

  Copyright © 2020 Reese Knightley

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Warnings

  Please be advised that this book is intended for adult readers aged eighteen and older due to sexually explicit content, language, and violence. Trigger warning: graphic violence.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to the actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This is a work of fiction and should be treated as such.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Art: Reese Dante reesedante.com

  Disclaimer—Cover content is for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  Editing provided by Heidi Ryan of Amour the Line Editing

  Interior Design and Formatting provided by

  Stacey Ryan Blake of Champagne Book Design

  Copyright and Trademark Acknowledgments: All products/brand names/Trademarks mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies.

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  AUTHOR NOTE

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  EPIGRAPH

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  SNEAK PEAK OF CUTTING IT CLOSE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  OTHER BOOKS BY REESE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Macy and Logan first meet at the end of Risking it All (Code of Honor book two). Risking it All is part of a series, but can be read as a standalone. It is not necessary to read Risking it All to enjoy Without Fear.

  Because of the size of the cast of characters, you may want to read Without Warning (Cobalt Security book one) but it is not necessary.

  Logan Cobalt—Head of Cobalt Security

  Macy Finch—Waiter at Bailey’s Café

  Cobalt Bodyguards / Security Team

  Jaxon West

  Felix Acosta

  Hayden Thorne

  Ryder Freeman

  Tyler Brick

  Gunner Morgan

  Cobalt Family members

  Liam Cobalt (Logan’s twin brother)

  Spencer Cobalt

  Elijah Cobalt

  Justin Cobalt

  Ashley Cobalt

  Law Enforcement

  Forest Taylor—FBI Assistant Director

  Alexander Channing—FBI ASAC—Assistant Special Agent in Charge

  FBI agent Nathan Hill

  FBI agent Jett Martin

  FBI agent Hitch

  US Marshal Mac Mackenzie

  US Marshal Axel Bains

  US Marshal Whiplash “Whip” Tauber

  US Marshal James Stanton

  US Marshal Flint Ashbridge

  Denver Police Detective Charles Dalton

  Crumpet Sheriff Teddy Chance

  Bailey’s Café staff

  Tinley Marigold

  Friends with brief appearances

  Sam Jackson—Macy’s friend

  Bill—Aberdeen police officer

  Frank—FBI agent

  Beloved pets

  Echo—Black Bull Mastiff (Logan Cobalt’s security dog)

  Tucker—Golden retriever (Elijah & Justin’s)

  Monty—Orange stripped cat (Elijah & Justin’s)

  Click here for a detailed list of interconnecting books.

  “Fortune always favors the brave…”

  P.T. Barnum

  Logan

  “Logan, he’s coming your way!” The shout came through the mic tucked into his ear.

  Logan Cobalt pulled his weapon, slammed through the exit door, and out into the pitch-black alleyway.

  Gunfire and a bullet cleaving into the concrete by his head sent him diving for cover. He slammed onto the hard surface with a grimace.

  Well, that answered that question. There was more than one perp.

  Belly crawling, he took cover next to a large dumpster. Leaping into a crouch, he darted a quick glance around the metal corner before raising his arm around to return the gunfire.

  The door behind him cracked open and Felix Acosta slipped out, fisting the back of his shirt and slowing him down. He squinted over his shoulder.

  Felix flashed him a cocky grin in the dim light. “Thought you could use a little help,” the smartass said, releasing him.

  “Cover me,” he growled.

  Felix moved forward and fired off several rounds in the direction of the gunfire.

  “Watch it, fucker!” Jaxon growled through the mic. It sounded like a bullet had come too close to him.

  “Oops,” Felix laughed, but he could tell the cocky man wasn’t sorry at all.

  “Seriously?” Ryder snapped, and the man’s irritation was heard clearly through the mic.

  “I shot above your heads, you idiots,” Felix snarked back, but really, the guy was immune to their bitching. Jaxon, Ryder, and Felix had worked together for too long to count to be at odds and, as usual, Logan ignored them.

  Darting across the wide alley to the other side where several cars were parked, he slid in between two cars just as several bullets punched holes into the metal of a dark-brown four door.

  “They’re coming in from the south,” Jaxon’s voice growled in his ear. “Hayden, check in.”

  “Copy,” Hayden reported. “Gunner and I have crowd control. We’ll keep the riffraff from reaching the back alley.”

  “Brick? Ryder?”

  “On Jaxon’s six,” Ryder answered.

  “Coming out the door after you, Logan and Felix,” Brick rumbled.

  Logan had put all of Cobalt Security on this particular job. His men were some of the best in the world at what they did; be it as a security unit or as private bodyguards. With a two-week lull in the personal bodyguard sector, he’d accepted a security job for the whole team.

  He was starting to regret that decision.

  Protecting a popular television host when the man started receiving death threats was hard enough, but when said host didn’t cut back on his outings, it made it even more difficult.

  “Anyone have eyes on how many shooters?” Logan barked through the mic.

  “Two, from what I can see,” Jaxon responded, confirming his earlier thought that there was definitely more than one gunman.

  “Felix and Brick, stay
back and let’s hold fire. Jaxon and Ryder, try to drive them toward us.”

  With a short response of agreement, his two men pushed forward. A few moments later, gunfire echoed at the other end of the long, dimly lit alleyway.

  Logan edged back between two cars and waited. Gravel crackled beneath a boot, and from the undercarriage of the car, he spotted a set of boots and ankles. The guy was hunched over and moving as quickly as possible along the side of the car.

  The perp reached the end of the car and still, Logan waited. Where was the other one?

  The suspect glanced over, pointed his gun, and Logan was out of time. The shot cleaved into the hubcap with a dull thud. His own shot hit the guy in the chest and should have taken him out. It took him only seconds to realize the perp was wearing a bulletproof vest.

  Logan lunged upward, taking the man flat to the ground, and the perp’s gun skittered across the wet pavement.

  From the other end of the alley, gunfire rang out. Logan winced when the suspect flipped them and his back slammed to the ground. He brought his gun up between them, but the guy clamped his hands around his with a death grip. Oh, no you don’t, you fucker!

  Logan grappled with the gun, then lifted his knee and jammed it into the man’s ribs, but it did nothing to dislodge the guy. With both hands wrapped around the gun, he pressed and slowly turned the weapon back toward the guy.

  The perp renewed his struggle, trying to gain control of the gun. Logan rolled and slammed the suspect’s head down into the concrete. He clenched his teeth and power-turned the gun until the muzzle nudged the perp’s shoulder. Logan pulled the trigger.

  The man screamed and released his grip. Logan rolled off the guy and the suspect moved away, moaning in agony.

  Gunfire echoed between the other suspect and his team. A force and then burning pain slammed into his arm and he toppled backward.

  Fuck!

  Even through the burning pain, he kept his gun pointed at the moaning suspect.

  “Boss! Fuck!” Felix shouted, and he heard the panic in the man’s voice.

  “Stay put!” he barked and let out the breath he’d been holding.

  Sweat dripped into his eyes, but he didn’t move to wipe the sting away. Instead, he continued holding the gun steady on the suspect.

  A few seconds later, all gunfire died out completely, sending the alleyway into an eerie silence.

  “Second suspect is down,” Ryder snarled flatly into the quiet.

  Thank fuck.

  Tyler Brick was on the guy with the wounded shoulder in seconds. They called him Brick, not so much for his last name, but more for his size. The guy was a mountain standing well over six feet and weighing in at over two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. His clients felt very safe when Brick was on the job. The massive mountain of a man flipped the suspect over and handcuffed his hands behind his back despite the perp’s screams.

  Logan lowered the gun and dropped back to the wet pavement.

  Gazing up at the star-filled sky, he panted through the pain in his shoulder.

  Felix was at his side in seconds.

  “Logan, talk to me.” Felix reached down and ripped his button-down shirt open looking for the bullet wound.

  “Hey! That was one of my good shirts,” he bitched.

  “You’re shot!” Felix scowled, helping him to sit up and lean against the tire of the brown car.

  “Yeah, in the arm,” he groused back, fingering the tears along the button holes.

  Felix dropped the shirt tails and instead, tore off the shirt’s arm.

  Logan snorted and Felix shot him a furious glare, and then tied the torn shirt sleeve around the wound before sitting back on his haunches.

  Jaxon and Ryder came jogging down the alley.

  “Where’s the other guy?” He squinted.

  Ryder pointed at Jaxon. “Head shot. He’s gone.”

  “What? Was I just supposed to wound him?” Jaxon asked innocently. All tattoos and attitude, the hot as fuck, long-haired bodyguard cracked his neck and smirked.

  That the other guy was dead didn’t surprise him, Jaxon was one of the best shooters he’d ever come across.

  “Ambulance is on its way,” Ryder murmured.

  “I don’t need a damned ambulance.” He frowned and moved to stand up.

  Only, he couldn’t manage it when the world swayed and dipped. Felix reached out and gripped him around the shoulders and brought him back down into a sitting position.

  Truthfully, Logan was glad for the help.

  Macy

  “What’s good?”

  Macy stopped tapping the pencil against his pursed lips and glanced up from the order form. The tablet was more of a prop, he didn’t really need to write the order down to remember it, but the cook in the new kitchen appreciated it.

  While Bailey’s Café specialized in flavored coffee and baked goods, they had had a new kitchen put in after the fire.

  The fire had demolished half of the front room and needed rebuilding anyway. Macy was just glad nobody had been hurt. The place really did look nice since his boss, Justin Cobalt, had put the café’s manager in charge of fixing up the place. And even though it sucked that Justin’s psycho ex-boyfriend had tried to burn the café down last Christmas, Macy had to admit Ashley had done a brilliant job with the remodeling.

  “Hello?”

  “Oops, sorry!” He plastered on a wide smile, knowing it accentuated his full, pink lips. For good measure, he widened his charcoal-outlined eyes. The man at the table smiled at him.

  “Today’s special is fish and chips.”

  “I’ll take that.” The man drew in a quick breath and gave him a flirtatious smile.

  Almost tempted to stay and flirt away his lapse in customer service, Macy turned away. No flirting with customers; it was one of his rules.

  Besides, he already had his eye on a certain someone.

  Jotting down the order, he tugged his buzzing cell phone from his pocket. The number and short text message sent his stomach dipping.

  Check in.

  Reaching the counter located in the back near the pastry and coffee area, Macy slapped the order on the marbled granite surface.

  “I’m taking a break,” he told Ashley.

  She looked up from the restocking list and flipped her hair over one shoulder. He could see a lot of Elijah in her frown. Ashley was Elijah Cobalt’s little sister; Elijah just happened to be Justin’s husband. The café was a family affair.

  “But it’s almost lunch hour.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Bitch, please,” he pouted, poking out his bottom lip for all it was worth. “I opened at five-thirty this morning,” he reminded her of the favor he’d done her.

  “Don’t ‘bitch, please’ me!” Ashley rolled her eyes, but she was trying not to grin as she waved him away.

  “I won’t be long,” he promised, and hurried down the hallway.

  Once out into the alley behind the café, he dialed the number and tucked the phone to his ear.

  “Tony Siegel disappeared from Federal prison,” James Stanton growled.

  “What?” Macy fell back against the brick wall, clutching the phone.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “How did he escape?” he asked through tight lips.

  “Inside help. They think,” Stanton replied.

  “What do you think?”

  “Could be, they found a murdered prison guard.”

  “What does Frank say?”

  “Frank’s missing.”

  “What?” Fear settled deep in his chest.

  “Yeah. I haven’t been able to get ahold of him for three days.” Stanton sounded as worried as he felt.

  “You think Tony went after Frank?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Fuck!” He couldn’t lose Frank. “I’m coming back.”

  “It’s best not to,” Stanton disagreed.

  “Yeah, you’re right. What was I thinking? You can’t protect me,” Macy mut
tered.

  The breeze picked up and blew a chilly wind through the alley, sending a windchime swaying. The slight tinkling sound brought his head up and he surveyed both sides of the alley.

  Frank! What the hell had happened? He wrapped one arm around his own waist.

  “Macy?” the man’s quiet murmur drew him back from sinking into too much worry about Frank. Frank was a big boy, he reminded himself, but it didn’t lessen the worry one bit.

  “Yeah?” He cleared his throat.

  “I need a favor.”

  Favor? He didn’t want to do a favor for Stanton. He wanted to rip apart the country city by city and find Frank. Then, and only then, would he be satisfied that Frank was okay.

  “I’m supposed to be laying low,” he said through a suddenly tight throat.

  Stanton sighed. “If I had anyone else with your qualifications up where you are, I’d ask them. But I don’t.”

  A sense of resignation filled him and he squeezed the phone.

  “What do you need?” It was damned difficult to keep a low profile when they kept asking him to do jobs.

  “I need a welfare check on someone up in your neck of the woods.”

  “Give me the details.”

  Stanton recited an address and Macy memorized it without writing it down.

  “And Macy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be nice.”

  “When am I not nice?” He hitched a hip on the brick wall of the building.

  “No comment,” Stanton’s voice rang dryly.

  “I’ll be in touch,” he snapped.

  “Watch your back.”

  “If Siegel knew where I was, he’d already be here.”

  “True,” Stanton’s sigh came heavy over the phone.

  “And,” Macy paused, “if I see him first? Deal or no deal, he won’t make it back to prison.”

  “Revenge doesn’t solve a damned thing,” Stanton growled.

  Macy made a noncommittal sound in his throat and ended the call.

  Fuck that! Counting up all the shit Tony Siegel had done, the guy was walking around on borrowed time as it was.