After a thumbs-up all around, they split into teams, then left the barn, trekking through the desert on foot in different directions so they could approach the massive estate from different sides.

  Zy fell in beside him as they hiked toward the hacienda. He looked concerned. “You okay?”

  “My head doesn’t hurt much anymore.” Trees did his best to smile.

  “Glad to hear it, but that wasn’t what I was asking. Talk to me about Laila.”

  “What is there to say? She fucked me over.”

  “Trees—”

  “Here. You look at this video and tell me what you see.” He handed his best friend his phone.

  Zy watched it grimly. “I know what it looks like, but—”

  “You in Logan’s camp? You think she sent me this to protect me? Even if she did, news flash: she fucked him. Last night. Willingly. I took apart that video in the car. I don’t have all my software on my phone, but I’ve got enough to tell when it was filmed.” Sure, it was spliced at the beginning and the end, but she’d probably sent him the best parts and discarded the rest.

  When the clip was finished, Zy sighed. “I’m not buying it.”

  “What part? Where she’s spreading her legs for Victor Ramos? Despite the sheet over them, I think it’s pretty obvious what they’re doing.”

  “I know what it looks like, but you’re…tangled up in her, man. I’m not denying that she filmed him on top of her. But I doubt she did it for her pleasure. Or even for his. My impression of Laila was that she would do or say whatever she needs to keep her loved ones safe. If she didn’t care about you, why would she bother to warn you away? If you didn’t matter to her, why wouldn’t she just let Victor take you out?”

  Trees scowled. “Because she doesn’t want me to kill Victor.”

  “I doubt that’s what she was thinking after she’d watched the son of a bitch shoot you hours earlier.”

  Zy had a point. Trees mentally weighed it, but he just couldn’t get past the fact she’d intentionally gone for his emotional jugular. “It doesn’t matter now. We’re here for Kimber.”

  “But you’re going to go after Laila as soon as this is over. I know you.”

  Damn straight. “It’s my mission. The bosses want her back. They want to know what she knows. I’m sure her sister wants her safe, too.”

  “Don’t bullshit me. You want her back for you. For revenge.” Zy dropped his voice. “I know somewhere deep down you think you’re not good enough for love or some crap like that.”

  Trees sent his best friend a sharp glare. “I never said that.”

  “Not in so many words, but I know you think it when you talk about your family. I’m telling you, that’s not reality, buddy.”

  Zy didn’t understand his childhood. “That has nothing to do with Laila.”

  “I think it does. Before you go all V is for Vendetta on her ass, make her explain.”

  “The way you did when you had Tessa in my bunker?” Zy had been fucking furious at her seeming betrayal when he’d gotten her alone and naked…and there hadn’t been much talking.

  “Different circumstances.”

  “You’re right. Tessa loves you. Laila doesn’t give a shit about me. But I won’t let her lie. I fell for that shit once. You know the old saying. If it walks like a duck and it quacks like a duck…”

  Zy shook his head. “She’s not a duck; she’s a wounded sparrow. But I’m obviously not going to change your mind. Just…think about it.”

  Trees sighed. “I haven’t been able to focus on much else.”

  “You better get your head on right for this mission. It’s going to be dangerous as hell. I hear we’re outnumbered five-to-one—at least.”

  Fuck. Zy was right. If Trees didn’t want to end up dead, he’d better fucking focus. “Yeah.”

  “How did Tessa take you leaving suddenly?”

  “She’s all right. Nervous. Hallie cried, and that didn’t make anything easier. But my girls are tough.”

  They were. Tessa had been through a lot while protecting her infant daughter. They would be okay. And Trees would do his best to make sure Zy stayed okay.

  It occurred to him that nearly everyone present had a reason to stay frosty and come home alive—a wife, kids, siblings, parents—people who loved them.

  Trees would go home alone.

  Fuck that, he would find Laila, track her sexy ass down, and make her pay—in his dungeon, in his bed, under his cock. If she wanted to fuck for her survival, he would happily oblige her. After he killed Victor Ramos.

  It wasn’t much longer before the silhouette of the hacienda came into view. Dawn was a couple of hours away. Night had swallowed up the other team a while ago. Hunter, Deke, and Logan had all trekked ahead of them, heads together, strategizing. Zy jogged to catch up. Trees followed suit.

  Hunter turned to them. “The stables are just inside the edge of the property, about three hundred yards ahead. There are five rows of six stables each.”

  “Who the hell keeps thirty horses?” Zy asked.

  “The bigger question is, why would anyone have thirty stables but zero horses?” Hunter drawled. “When we get there, we’ll fan out. Zy, you’ll come with me on the north side. Logan will take Deke and Trees and wind to the south. Both teams will work their way to the middle. It’s heavily fortified, gentlemen. Stay low and stay aware. They aren’t fucking around.”

  “Neither are we,” Logan added darkly.

  “Let’s go get my kitten,” Deke growled, his voice gravelly and harsh.

  Trees sipped some water out of the pack he’d strapped on in the barn. “Let’s do it.”

  Before Hunter and Zy broke off, they all slipped comm devices in their ears and checked them. Then Trees bumped fists with his best friend, hoping like hell they all came out of this in one piece.

  The night was silent as they crept to the stables. The wind whipped up, masking the sounds of their footsteps. They clung to shadows. Since disturbances and loud noises would bring every thug running, the team understood that guns were a last resort. Still, Trees had his handy as he watched Logan and Deke’s six while they approached the first line of stables.

  For a “retired” guy, Logan was a stealthy motherfucker, taking down the first guard, slumped against the wall, eyes closed. Deke took down his partner, enjoying a smoke out back. After they dragged the bodies into an empty stable, ripped out their comm devices, then zip-tied their hands and taped shut their mouths, they secured the door.

  Why did stables where no one kept horses come equipped with doors that locked and windows with bars, like a prison?

  The question swirled in his head as they scoured the rest of the stables in that row, avoiding the obvious panning of security cameras above. As one swung back to the interior of the estate, toward the pool in the distance, they filed through the darkness to the next row.

  The first guard saw them coming. Before he could alert his cohorts, Logan tossed a blade at the suit, hitting him right in the heart. He fell to the ground, his mouth still open with an unspoken syllable. Deke carried his corpse into the nearest stall and kicked him into the corner, out of sight.

  In the back of Trees’s head, he heard a ticking clock. They’d been at this less than two minutes, and all was still quiet…but how long before someone called out to a guard who no longer answered? How long before they came to investigate and all hell broke loose?

  Another guard stepped out of the john, yanking up his zipper, then stretching like he didn’t have a care in the world. Trees crept behind him and twisted his neck. He fell back into Trees’s grip with a gasp, deader than dead. Since the can was closest, he shuttled the asshole back on the toilet and locked the door.

  When he emerged, he waited behind the door until the security camera turned to scan the opposite direction. Logan and Deke were taking down a pair of thugs. Deke all but carved out a guy’s throat, then tossed him in a stable. Logan dragged another guard in next and pointed a gun under his chin. When he gave a head bob and pointed to the guy’s comm, Trees quickly divested the thug of his equipment in silence and squashed the earpiece beneath his heel.

  “Where is the American woman your boss is keeping hostage?” Logan demanded.

  “No habla.”

  “He’s useless,” Logan snapped Trees’s way. “Cut out his tongue.”

  Trees withdrew his knife. “On it.”

  “Wait! She is in the next row, middle stall.”

  Really? So it was possible lying Laila had actually given them the truth? Maybe she’d done something good. After all, there had been no ambush awaiting them. And it looked as if her intel was panning out…

  Logan smiled acidly. “Damn, you learned English fast.”

  “Fuck you,” the man spit.

  “Right back at you,” Logan snarled, then slit the guy’s throat.

  Trees had known the colonel was a badass. That’s why so many guys had come to EM Security, to learn from a legend. Edgington had sworn his sons were the real deal, but he’d never seen them in action. Trees had to admit, he was fucking impressed. Yeah, they’d been assholes at times…but maybe with good reason. Besides, the job wasn’t about their people skills.

  Logan pressed on his comm and relayed Kimber’s possible location to his dad, then nodded to Trees. “Let’s go.”

  Deke was already barreling in that direction.

  The younger Edgington caught up and snagged his brother-in-law by the arm. “Don’t get stupid.”

  He meant Deke couldn’t afford to be impatient. Trees agreed.

  Jaw clenched like he was working hard to hold his shit together, Kimber’s husband nodded. “I know.”

  But the waiting that came with caution was killing him.

  “We’re a team,” Logan reminded in a low-voiced growl. “We succeed together or we die together.”

  Deke obviously didn’t like it since he looked like he wanted to rip off Logan’s face, but he nodded.

  No one spoke then. They crept closer to Kimber.

  Ahead, Trees caught sight of a skirmish in the shadows. Hunter gutted one guard while Ghost had pinned another against the building and muttered something in the hired gun’s ear. The guy pissed himself, and Ghost finished him off with a sharp tug of his blade from belly to throat. After a few additional clashes and more dodging the mechanically panning cameras, Deke and Logan reached the middle stall.

  It was locked. And there was a man inside.

  Every single operative fell silent. If they remained out here, it wouldn’t be long before another random patrol came or the camera swung back and captured them. If they alerted the guard inside the stall, he’d call for reinforcements. They had to make a decision now and it had to be quick.

  Fuck.

  Trees turned to Hunter in question. This was his sister and his show.

  The elder Edgington cursed silently, then crouched in front of the stable and scratched on the wood.

  “Do not move,” the inside man said in thickly accented English as he approached the door.

  From the shadows, Trees caught on, watching the guard close in until he pressed his scowling face against the bars covering the window to look outside. At Trees’s nod, Hunter jumped up, thrusting his hand inside the stall, thunking the guard’s head against the solid metal bars, and knocking him out cold.

  “Kimber?” Hunter whispered.

  “Oh, my god. I’m here,” her voice trembled.

  So Laila hadn’t lied about Kimber’s location. It stood to reason she hadn’t lied to him about her feelings, either.

  “Oh, thank fuck, kitten.” Her husband rattled the door, sounding ready to tear the whole building down to reach her.

  “Deke!” she whispered emphatically.

  “The door is fucking locked. Search the guard for keys,” her insistent husband said.

  “I can’t. I’m tied to a chair.”

  Hunter turned to his father and brother. “We can’t shoot this lock.”

  Logan nodded. “It’ll bring attention.”

  Trees frowned. Had he been the only one with a less-than-glowing youth? “I can pick it.”

  He retrieved his survival multitool and went to work. The lock was designed to keep thoroughbreds in more than to keep trained operatives out. He’d picked it in thirty seconds.

  “Thanks.” Deke shoved him aside and dashed into the stable after his wife.

  Hunter, Logan, and Caleb all filed around, watching their six as Deke bent to cut Kimber free, then scooped her up in his arms, holding her tight against his chest. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. Just get me home.”

  He turned to the colonel. “Relay to the other team that we’re out and tell them to head to the meet point.”

  Caleb nodded. “I’ll go with you and keep your six safe. Hunter, Logan, Zy, and Trees, get us out clean. Make sure we’re not followed. Mop up any messes. We’ve taken out most of the guards around the stables, but when they don’t report in…”

  More would flood in from other parts of the estate and all hell would break loose. Something kept itching at the back of Trees’s neck that their time was running out.

  “Roger that,” he affirmed.

  The others did the same.

  By a flash of moonlight, Trees caught the stark emotion in Deke and Kimber’s shared glance. Tears spilled down her dirty cheeks. His barely controlled fury said he’d give anything to erase what she’d endured, but he was so fucking grateful to have her back, as if someone had stolen the stars from the sky and finally given them back when he’d lifted her into his embrace.

  That gaze was like a kick in the gut. They had each other and the eternal, binding love they shared. Trees had never thought he wanted that—until Laila. But the last twenty-four hours had proven that his heart couldn’t be trusted. He’d fallen for a temptress who used him for her own gain. And her lover’s. He couldn’t forget that.

  But Laila had done one decent thing in helping to reunite two people who lived and breathed each other. In returning a loving mother to her young children. Sure, she had probably done that for some selfish reason he could only begin to guess at. But that didn’t matter in this moment. Kimber and Deke were back together.

  Trees blinked, then the couple was gone, melting into the shadows together, her father right behind them.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Hunter insisted as he plastered himself to the shadows.

  The boss didn’t have to tell him twice.

  The four men crept through the dark spaces around the buildings until they reached the end of the row of stalls. They were feet away from a clean escape.

  Suddenly, a man’s shout split the air north of them, something in rapid-fire Spanish he didn’t understand. But he’d bet someone had discovered the bodies they’d tucked away. Which meant he and the other three operatives were in a world of shit.

  The voices coming from the north started blending with those of the reinforcements pouring in from the main house to the south.

  “They’re about to cut off our fastest fucking way out,” Hunter growled.

  He was right. That meant shit was the least of their problems. They were fucked. They had a split second to flee.

  Trees scanned his surroundings. He needed perspective. The roof of the stables was accessible to someone of his height. “Stay hidden.”

  “What are you doing?” Logan hissed.

  Trees didn’t respond, just jumped up to grab the overhang, hoisted himself up, then slithered onto his belly. Lights flashed on. Two goons were hoofing it from the north end of the stables. A dozen reinforcements were charging from the south.

  Geraldo Montilla was in the thick of the pack, gun in hand.

  “Run north,” he growled into his comm. “Two tangos at three o’clock. A shitload at ten. Take out the pair to the north and keep running. You’ll be home free.”

  “Get off the roof,” Hunter barked.

  “Allí!” a reinforcement from the south shouted, pointing at Trees.

  “They’ve seen me. Get out of here.”

  “Without you? Fuck that,” Logan growled.

  Trees pulled his gun from his holster. “Your father just got his daughter back. He doesn’t need to lose his two sons. You have wives and children. Go.”

  Then Trees focused on the assholes surrounding the stables, aiming their guns his way. If he was going down, he was going to take as many motherfuckers with him as he could.

  As the first shots rang out, he lifted his SIG, wishing he had Walker’s crazy accuracy. There was a reason everyone called him One-Mile. But Trees took out the closest thug. As the criminal’s head exploded, he turned his attention to the next guy, giving him the same treatment.

  A bullet whizzed past his ear. He rolled to avoid another asshole’s line of fire and narrowly missed that shot, too.

  Fuck, he was outnumbered and about to get tagged by a dozen different guns. If he bailed, they would come after him—unless he gave them a reason not to.

  He gave it one last Hail Mary effort and took a shot at Geraldo Montilla. If the drug lord was going to make himself a target, Trees was going to aim for him.

  His first shot missed. His second hit, ripping somewhere into the kingpin’s chest. Montilla went down where he stood.

  Pandemonium erupted. Shouting ensued. Half the suits rushed to help their jefe.

  The other half turned their weapons on him.

  Trees thanked God for his long fucking legs as he jumped from the roof of one stable to the row north, crouching across shingles and tossing back potshots. If he could get to the last row, he stood a chance of escaping.

  Just before he leaped, two guards climbed onto the next roof ahead and stood directly in his path, balancing on the pitched surface with sinister grins.

  Trees’s gut dropped to his toes. He could take one guy out, no sweat. But the other one would blow his head off before he could fire again. Goddamn it.

  But he didn’t have any other options.

  He feinted and crouched, then zeroed in on the suit on the right, taking him out with a shot to the forehead. He moved as rapidly as he could, but by the time he aimed at the other guard, the goon had already locked him in his sights.