Though Trees gripped the wheel tightly, the drive to the edge of town and the hard road was uneventful. He stayed watchful, looking everywhere for Ramos or his violent drug mules to jump out and try to take Laila from him. With every mile that passed, he relaxed.

  During the drive, he peered at Laila in his rearview mirror. The sadness on her face was a stab in the heart, and he swore that somehow he’d make this shit up to her and keep her safe for the rest of her life.

  Finally, they reached the main drag bisecting the nearest little town. There wasn’t much—a dollar store, some churches, a mom-and-pop grocery store, along with a couple of gas stations, a body shop, and a one-window post office.

  At the town’s last intersection, the light turned yellow just as Trees made it through. Matt followed. It was red by the time Ghost reached the limit line, and he watched the guy shudder to a halt. In his rearview mirror, Ghost’s dark blue Tundra got smaller and smaller.

  A few feet off Trees’s bumper, Matt kept going, probably figuring the other operator would catch up in two minutes or less. Trees scowled. He’d feel better, especially for Laila’s sake, if they waited for the tail, but it was stupid to sit around and wait like no one was after them.

  As they reached the intersection at the interstate, Trees slipped into the left turn lane to head east on I-10. Traffic was almost nonexistent, so he paused, watching Matt zoom past him and continue heading south. Where was he taking Laila? What had Hunter and the other bosses cooked up? Trees hated not knowing as he watched the beat-up Chevy drive away.

  Vowing to put an end to this shit separating them soon, he caught a green light and made a left toward the freeway’s on-ramp.

  From a dirt corner, a black van lurched forward, tires spinning, kicking up dust. It barreled toward Trees, heading straight for his passenger door. Holy fuck, the driver intended to T-bone him.

  Trees stepped on the gas, trying to outrun them and jet onto the freeway. A glance behind proved Ghost still hadn’t caught up.

  The Hummer didn’t move fast enough, and the van clipped his vehicle, sending Trees spinning around on the otherwise deserted road, closer and closer to an embankment wall.

  His head reeled as he tried to steer out of the over-rotation. But it was too late. The top-heavy vehicle flipped onto its top, then rolled over twice more before slamming against a guardrail and coming to a shuddering stop.

  Pain roared in his head. A trickle of warm blood slid from a gash above his brow. His limbs felt like they weighed a ton as he tried to swipe away the blood and clear his suddenly blurry vision, but darkness ringed the edges—and started closing in.

  No. No! He needed air. But he couldn’t find the fucking handle. When he did, he couldn’t muster the strength to open the door. It was stuck. Crumpled from the accident? He groped around the armrest until he found the button to roll down the window, but even the chilly winter night didn’t jolt back his dimming senses.

  Shit. He was going to pass out. He must have hit his head harder than he’d thought…

  Help. He needed help. Nine one one.

  With the last of his strength, he felt in his pockets for his phone but couldn’t seem to yank it free.

  Suddenly, movement through the passenger window caught his attention. The occupants of the van poured out, illuminated by their headlights—three men shrouded in head-to-toe black. All carried guns pointed straight at him. They spoke rapid-fire Spanish as they wrenched his door open, yanked him from the cab, and dragged him toward the open door of their van as his consciousness gave way.

  Laila scrambled to the far side of Matt’s back seat, craning her neck as Trees’s truck was blindsided before it rolled twice and hit the guardrail. She screamed. Her heart lurched as cold fear washed through her. “Stop! We must help him. Now!”

  Matt glanced in his rearview mirror, looking into the night, then gunned the engine. His truck surged forward. “We can’t. I have to get you to safety.”

  “We cannot leave him! I am safe. I am fine. He is injured. He is—” Laila whipped her stare back to the scene of Trees’s accident to see if he’d managed by some miracle to get out. Instead, she saw him being dragged away by three men in ski masks who blended in with the dark. Fear became horror. She felt ready to peel off her skin, jump from this moving vehicle—anything to save him. “They are taking him! We must—”

  “Keep going. If that’s Ramos and his thugs, they probably think you’re in the truck. As soon as they figure out you’re not, they’ll come looking for you. I have to get you far away.”

  “We cannot simply leave Trees! He will die. They will kill him!”

  “He’s trained for this and—”

  “He is injured!” Couldn’t Matt see that? “He cannot fight all three of them by himself. And Victor wants revenge. He will torture and execute Trees. We must go back and save him.”

  Matt shook his head, scanning his surroundings with a sharply watchful gaze. “Ghost is seconds behind him. He’ll pitch in, but Trees would tell me to get you away from the danger. That’s what our bosses would say, too. I’m doing what’s best.”

  “You are doing what you have been told. I am doing no such thing.” If she had to jump out of a moving vehicle, she would. But she refused to let Trees be taken, tormented, and terminated.

  Matt glared at her through the mirror. “Yeah, you are.”

  She ignored him and reached for the handle to let herself out of the backseat. It was locked. She scrambled to find the button to release it, but flicking it did not disengage the lock. “Let me go!”

  “I can’t. Never thought I’d use those childproof locks. Good to know they’re useful for something.” Then he reached for his phone.

  Who was he calling? The police? It was too late for that, and fighting with the door was doing her absolutely no good. Trees and the scene of his accident were now several blocks away. Terror that she would be too late to save him threatened to shred her composure.

  “I will not let him die!” She pounded on the window, still pulling on the door handle, hoping it would magically give way.

  “Let us handle it, Laila. Trees would want you to.” Then Matt spoke to whoever he had called. “Hey, we’ve been ambushed. I’m still rushing Laila to the drop. As far as I can tell, we haven’t been followed. We lost Ghost at a light about two miles back, but Trees was broadsided…” He must be talking to one of his bosses because he explained the rest of the incident, including the location.

  Laila listened with half an ear, scrambling for the front seat of the cab, where the childproof locks wouldn’t stop her from escaping.

  “Yeah, that’s Laila. She’s losing her shit.” He paused, one hand on the wheel, the other holding her in the back seat. “I’ll have her there in less than ten. Is there anyone who can calm her down?”

  “I do not want to be calm. I want to save Trees! He has risked everything for all of us, and you cannot allow Ramos to take him.”

  Matt went on as if she hadn’t just screeched in his ear. “Good thinking. I’ll have her there as soon as I can. Then I’ll double back and help you if you need.” A pause. “Yeah. See you there.”

  “Double back now and I will help you!” Laila insisted. “Why waste time?”

  “We’ve covered this. Let me focus.”

  “On a deserted road?”

  “On watching our surroundings so that if those assholes in the van come after me to find you, I can get you away safely.”

  “I do not care about myself.” She had escaped before. Sometimes it took biding her time and arranging help, but she could do it again. Trees had never known the extent of Victor’s cruelty. She didn’t want him to know it now.

  “You will if they take you. Then you’ll be in no position to help anyone.”

  That shut her up. Laila wanted to refute him…but couldn’t. Still, she refused to give up on Trees.

  Matt’s phone rang again. He pressed the device to his ear. “Talk to me.” A pause. “Nothing?” Another pause. “No idea where they went? Fuck.” Then he looked in the rearview mirror again.

  Laila whirled to find the dark blue truck on their tail. Ghost. That must be who he was talking to. “Did he find anything?”

  She knew she was being foolish, but she couldn’t seem to stop hoping and praying that the other man had found some clue about who had taken Trees. The concern on Matt’s face dashed her hope.

  “We’re working on it,” he told her. When she opened her mouth to demand again they return to the scene, he cut her off. “But he’s already gone. So is the van.”

  Laila’s terror ratcheted up again. Barely thirty minutes ago, she had been in his arms. Now he was most likely Victor Ramos’s prisoner and would probably die for the great sin of trying to save her. Dios mío, she had to do something. She had to contact Victor. Yes, and make a deal. Trees’s freedom in exchange for hers. Trees would be angry, but it was for the best. The world needed him. He was a hero. Everyone but her sister had given up on her long ago.

  No matter what, don’t put yourself in danger. Trees’s demand rang through her head.

  Laila shook her head. She couldn’t heed her promise to him now. She couldn’t live with herself if she had the means to save him and she selfishly did not. Besides, her misery didn’t matter, only Trees staying alive did.

  “Any idea which direction the van went?” Matt asked into the phone.

  She couldn’t hear the answer, and it was killing her. She would do anything to know…

  As the inky night rolled past the windows, leading them into a sleepy residential neighborhood with older houses farther apart, her thoughts scrambled with possibilities. Then Matt screeched to a crawl in front of a blue house with white trim and black shutters. He turned down a dirt path that flanked the structure, rolling behind it to sandwich the truck between the back porch and a tall privacy fence. Other vehicles were already parked out back, including one she vaguely recognized riding in when she’d first reached the States last September.

  Matt killed the engine but made no move to open his door—or hers. Ghost pulled up beside them, hopped out, then made his way to her. Finally, Matt disengaged the locks and slid out as Ghost wrenched her door open and all but dragged her from the back seat, carrying her as if she presented no challenge at all, despite her squirming protests. He might be on the wiry side, at least compared to Trees, but he was ridiculously strong.

  As they approached the rear of the house, Matt sidled up behind them, gun poised for battle, just in case.

  The back door opened. Joaquin Muñoz stood waiting, weapon in hand as he scanned their surroundings, too.

  As soon as Ghost set her on her feet in what looked like someone’s living room, Joaquin shut and locked the door. Matt remained outside. An unfamiliar man sidled up to Joaquin, dressed in an impeccable suit, despite the fact it was well past midnight. She wasn’t fooled by his attire. This man was lethal. He made Laila nervous.

  “Who is he?” she asked Muñoz.

  “Trevor Forsythe. He’s with us.”

  Maybe Muñoz had brought Trees more help. “You are all going to find Trees now, yes?”

  Laila knew better than to believe they would let her come along. But she had other ways of helping. She just needed time to think of a crafty approach and some privacy.

  Muñoz shook his head. “My brothers have already searched the scene. So has Ghost. These guys were good. We couldn’t find anything.”

  She turned to look at the operative in the ski cap with the unusual eyes, then back to Trees’s boss. “So you intend to do nothing? He is your employee. He risked his life because you assigned him to protect me, and now he may die horribly because of it. You cannot—”

  “Of course we’re doing something. We’re working on it now.”

  Matt crashed inside a moment later, carrying Laila’s bag. She ran to the duffel and dragged out her phone, just in case Trees had somehow reached out to her.

  Nothing.

  She bit her lip to stifle a cry. Tears served no purpose. She had to stay strong and think.

  Laila hardly noticed when Matt stepped outside again. But the disturbance when he walked back in, Trees’s go-bag in hand, had her head snapping up. The sight of it crushed her all over again, and it was foolish. Of course no one had hit Trees merely to rob him of whatever worldly goods he’d had in his vehicle. Victor wanted Trees under his thumb because he wanted revenge. He wanted to torment her again. He wanted to snuff Trees out as revenge for his brother’s death.

  She had to stop him.

  Matt dropped the duffel on the floor. “Hunter and Logan are coming up the drive. Deke isn’t far behind.”

  “Deke?” Muñoz was clearly puzzled. “Is he coming for support?”

  Matt shrugged. “Where should I put Laila?”

  “You will not put me anywhere. If you are making plans to rescue Trees, I insist on helping.”

  “He’s our operator, and this is our area of expertise.” Muñoz scowled.

  Laila assumed he meant that expression to be intimidating. She had neither the time nor patience for his male posturing. “Do you have six years of experience dealing with Tierra Caliente? I do.”

  The room fell silent.

  Ghost raised his brows in a silent signal of agreement. “She’s got a point.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Muñoz ground his teeth and pointed to a stool at a breakfast bar overlooking the kitchen, on the far side of the living room. “Sit there.”

  Laila did, clutching her phone, her mind racing. Every moment she didn’t think of a clever plan was another moment Victor had to kill Trees. She needed to be pulling herself and her thoughts together, crafting a scheme.

  Before she could, Hunter and Logan entered through the back door, immediately making eye contact with Muñoz. “We weren’t followed. No one’s out there. What the fuck is going on?”

  Logan looked her way. “Laila?”

  “Men in a van. They crashed into Trees’s truck. He rolled. He was hurt. They dragged him out—”

  “We know,” Logan cut in. “Is there anything else we don’t that we should?”

  She frowned, thinking back over the last few hours. But those were memories she would share with no one. Trees’s loving touch, the selfless way he gave her pleasure, the patient way he handled her fears… Then she remembered something else and hopped off the stool. “Let me see his bag.”

  “What for?”

  Laila wasn’t sure who had asked the question, and she didn’t care. The shock and panic that had seized her brain were finally losing their grip. In their place was pure determination. She would do whatever it took to save Trees.

  When she reached Matt, he held the bag again. She didn’t want to wrestle him for it. He would win. But surely he could grasp how she might help without putting herself as risk. “Please.”

  He glanced over her head at Trees’s bosses. Someone must have nodded because he handed her the bag.

  She took it to the nearby table and unzipped it in a rush. The scent of him clung to his clothes and wafted out, making her knees weak. Making her want to sob again. She only managed to hold on to her emotions through sheer will and plowed through the contents until she finally found what she was looking for and held it up triumphantly. “Victor Ramos’s phone. He is probably the one who took Trees. If I reach out to him—”

  “Hold up, Laila,” Hunter cut in, his eyes so intensely blue, like Logan’s, they were almost startling. “We don’t know that Ramos took Trees. Remember, he shot Geraldo Montilla twelve days ago. It’s possible that’s who orchestrated this abduction for revenge.”

  His assertion took her aback. That possibility made everything a hundred times more dangerous. And it terrified her even more. “You are right.”

  “We need to do some fact finding and recon, figure out what we’re dealing with. Ghost checked the scene. So did Logan and I. No hint of who did this. No witnesses. We talked to the Lafayette PD. There are no traffic cams on that rural stretch of road. So we’ll have to figure this out by rattling some cages and seeing who howls. Let me have that phone, Laila. I want to examine it.”

  She didn’t love that idea, but he might be able to find something she couldn’t, so she complied. “Trees started to study it…”

  Then he had seen the real video of her with Victor at the motel and come to apologize. After that, they had been too busy making love to focus on the danger coming straight for them.

  The realization threatened her hard-won facade.

  Suddenly, there was a soft knock at the door. Matt, who was closest, scowled, then looked out the little window. “What the hell is Kimber doing here?”

  The woman Geraldo Montilla had held captive. Why would she come?

  Matt didn’t wait for an answer, just yanked the door open. A tall woman with auburn hair and a willowy body, rounded slightly with curves given to her by childbirth, entered and scanned the room. When Kimber’s gaze settled on her, a smile lit up her face. “Laila?”

  She nodded. “Hello.”

  What else could she say? She didn’t want to be rude, but…

  “I couldn’t stop her from coming,” said an imposing blond man with a buzz cut and a bad attitude who stepped into the room behind her. In one arm, he cradled a baby girl wrapped in a pink blanket and dripping bows. With his other, he held the hand of a little boy who looked somewhere around five.

  Suddenly, Kimber stood in front of her, looking hopeful and uncertain. “I know you don’t know me. But I’ve been begging my husband and my brothers to let me meet you in person for days.” She surprised Laila by taking her hands. “To thank you. I wouldn’t be home and reunited with my children—hell, I probably wouldn’t be alive—if not for you. If there’s anything I can ever do for you…”

  A dozen things crossed her mind. Laila had no plan…but it seemed she finally had an ally. None of these overprotective, testosterone-driven men would let her help, but this woman gripping her fingers tightly just might. “I spent years with those animals. I know how horrible they can be. I could spare you what I endured, so I was happy to do it.”

  “And I appreciate you from the bottom of my heart. My brothers suggested that you might be missing your nephew, so I brought my children…”