Ruled (Outlaws #3) by Elle Kennedy
1
“Everyone’s in position. Just waiting on your word.”
At the sound of the deep male voice, Reese shifted her gaze from the high-voltage electric fence in the distance to find her most trusted friend emerge from the shadows. Sloan wore black from head to toe, and he was armed to the teeth. So was she. They all were.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Just waiting on your word. Because it all came down to her. Her word. Her plan. Her decision to rob this munitions depot.
The weight of leadership was heavier than normal tonight. The crushing losses she’d suffered, the unceasing guilt she harbored . . . they were light and airy compared to this burden. Before, her raids had involved teams of three at the most, but this one consisted of more than triple that. She was holding too many people’s lives in her hands, and she didn’t fucking like it.
“You want to abort?” Sloan studied her face, his hazel eyes piercing through the armor that always turned from steely to flimsy when he was around.
He knew her well. Too well. Four years ago, when this strong, silent man joined up with her small band of outlaws, it had taken mere seconds for Reese to trust him. Something about Sloan had compelled her to confide in him, to lean on him, to seek him out whenever a decision needed to be made.
It was no surprise that his simple prompting lifted the lid on the self-doubt she’d been trying to contain. “This could backfire on us. People could die.”
“We all die eventually.” His tone didn’t hold a trace of emotion. “If it happens tonight, at least it’ll be for a good cause.”
“Will it?” Her teeth dug deeper into her cheek. What cause was she really fighting for? Freedom?
Or was it vengeance?
She wanted the Global Council to burn. She wanted to kill every single council member in the Colonies, every single Enforcer who carried out their dirty work. If she succeeded, the citizens living behind the city walls would be free. The outlaws living in secret outside those walls would no longer be hunted. But Reese would be lying if she said her motives were selfless.
The council had stolen everything from her. Every goddamn thing that she’d ever held dear. She despised them for it, and when that red-hot hatred burned as hot as it did now, it stripped away all notions that she might be doing this for anything other than pure revenge.
As usual, Sloan read her mind. He chuckled. “Doesn’t matter that the cause—for you, anyway—might be tangled up with a bunch of other shit. It’s still a cause, sweetheart. It’s still something we all want.” He jerked his head toward the small warehouse several hundred yards away. “We want those guns. We want to kill the bastards who are guarding those guns. And we’re going to succeed.”
A smile ghosted across her face. “We will, huh?”
“We’ve been planning this for weeks. Those motherfuckers don’t stand a chance against us.”
The rare flicker of humor in his eyes wore away at her hesitation. If Sloan was confident this could work, then she had to be too. He was right—meticulous planning had gone into it. They knew where every perimeter guard was posted. They knew exactly how many Enforcers were manning the interior. They knew the codes to deactivate the fence. They knew how to disable the cameras and the backup alert that the Enforcers would try to dispatch.
If they followed the plan to the last letter, they would get out of this alive.
Probably.
Maybe.
Fuck. She was doubting herself again.
Reese stared at the warehouse and wished there were more places around it to use for cover. The wooded area spanning the rear and east side was advantageous for only half her people; approaching the front of the building would be impossible to do covertly. The warehouse’s location was completely isolated, which made sense because the structure, for all intents and purposes, was a gigantic time bomb. With all the potential ammo, weapons, and explosives inside, one tiny accident could kill everyone in the vicinity. The blast barriers might absorb most of the damage, but either way, an explosion wasn’t the outcome Reese hoped to get out of this.
She wanted those weapons.
But she also wanted her people to stay alive.
“Maybe we should do this alone,” she told Sloan, wincing at the note of panic in her voice. “You and me. Send the others home.”
His handsome features creased. She couldn’t tell if he was worried or annoyed. Probably the latter. God knew she was pretty fucking annoyed with herself right now. Why was she acting like a scared little girl?