Enemy Combatant (The Renegades #2) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Renegades Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
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I liked people.

And I might have an idea of how to get Mercier talking.

“I’m sorry, you know.” I threw that out there. “About shooting you, I mean. I swear it’s not a habit of mine to go shoot at the elderly.”

He stopped moving the soap around and lifted a brow. “The elderly?”

I grinned and stood up. “Yeah. That’s something you should know about me. Whenever someone refers to me as kid, son, boy…I make a point of calling them Gramps, elderly, old as fuck—you know.” I gestured to myself, to my abs, my face. “As you can clearly see, there’s nothing boyish about this masterpiece.”

There. Ice broken. Could we be friends now? Life would be much easier the next couple of weeks if we found a way to join forces. I didn’t want to distrust Mercier. I didn’t want to keep him hostage.

He flicked a glance at my body before averting his gaze with a shake of his head. “I don’t know about masterpiece but certainly a piece of work.”

That was banter. I loved banter.

He lowered himself into the water and held out the soap for me. “You could tell me your name.”

I could…definitely do that. Shit. I’d forgotten.

“Crew,” I said, accepting the soap. “Crew Finlay.”

“Crew,” he repeated, testing it out. “I’d like to say it’s nice to meet you, but every part of my body hurts.”

I flinched. “Yeah, I’m sorry—”

“I’m messing with you, kid.” But he said it with a straight fucking face! Jesus, how was I supposed to know? “You didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done.”

“Really?” Something loosened inside me, like a tightness that faded in my chest.

“Really,” he confirmed. “Unfortunately, I wouldn’t have released you from your restraints if you were in my shoes, so I don’t suppose you will do that either.”

Okay, this had to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Maybe we could meet up one day years from now, and he’d be all, remember when you kidnapped me? And we’d laugh and clink our beers together.

What he said brought me more relief, because he showed he understood my position.

“Not yet.” I couldn’t help but feel bad anyway. “It’ll be easier from now on, though. I promise. No ropes. I’ll cuff you to the bed so you can sleep comfortably.”

He hummed and nodded slowly, gaze fixed to something below the surface. “It’s been quite some time since someone wanted to cuff me to the bed.”

Oh-ho!

I grinned.

“Although, truth be told, I prefer to do the cuffing,” he finished. Then he dunked his head underwater, and the handcuffs gleamed in the afternoon sun as he scrubbed his hands over his hair.

This might pose a problem for me. Now that I knew he was a good guy, despite his agenda fucking shit up for my team, it was impossible not to notice how fucking sexy Adrien Mercier was. He possessed every bit of that assertiveness I was drawn to in men.

That was my curse. Being drawn to assertiveness and experience, all while hoping to find someone my age—if I were interested in a relationship, of course. For hookups, I didn’t care. But yeah, I was no better than a shitty employer wanting to hire a thirty-year-old with ten years of field experience and a master’s degree.

A blotchy spot of pinkish red caught my attention as Mercier stood up once more, and the sight screwed my head on right, thankfully.

“We should get out so I can redress your wounds, man.”

“But we just got in,” he protested.

He was endearingly affronted.

My mouth twitched. “You’re bleeding through the bandages.”

He looked down at his shoulder, front and back, and furrowed his brow.

“I’ll throw in a couple painkillers to sweeten the deal,” I offered.

That had his attention. “Done.”

CHAPTER 5

River Tenley

“Please, please, I swear I don’t know anything! I swear on my life! Please!”

I cleared my throat and lifted my gun. “Then you’re no good to us, are you?” I pulled the trigger.

Crew Finlay

Mercier’s groan when he collapsed on the bed was on the obscene side, just saying.

I finished cuffing his right wrist to the metal frame of the bed, making sure he couldn’t get anywhere—unless he wanted to skip off with the whole bed—before I rose to my feet.

“I’ll be back with dinner in a bit.” I gave him another glance, then headed to the kitchen.

It felt so wrong to restrain him again after the two or three hours we’d just shared outside. I just didn’t view him as a flight risk anymore. In between dips in the lake and taking it easy on the blanket, carefully rotating and stretching his muscles, he’d been fairly chatty after all. He’d been wistful when he’d spoken about his son, a boy who had nestled himself into Mercier’s heart faster than he cared to admit, in his own words. It was the boy’s second summer going to space camp, and Mercier didn’t like he’d missed his son’s weekly call home.


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