In that time, Matt and I slipped out of the booth. The guy and girl slipped in. As they picked up our drinks, Matt and I were tiptoeing out an exit door that was hardly used. There would be security footage of us, but it wouldn’t be caught until later.

  Matt and I slipped out this side door as our guards remained inside. They wouldn’t look for us if they thought they knew where we were.

  Then we got in Matt’s car and drove away.

  Easy, right? The hard part was going to be next.

  FIFTY-ONE

  Kash

  Both my teams came in.

  The computer team was set up. They knocked out any surveillance within a three-block radius, which included street cameras and personal security systems. The other team stood next to me, all of us in our spots, taking up the perimeter around the house.

  It was a lone house.

  There was nothing special or distinguished about it. That was why they used it. Just another suburban neighborhood home.

  I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I didn’t want anyone to die. But when you send in a team to take over eight agents, I knew there was a high risk of someone getting a bullet in their body. Setting this up, thinking over everything, from every angle, I used what we had to use.

  Me.

  “All clear.” A voice came over our coms, and that was the signal. “I have control of their system. You are good to enter the east door. We have three minutes before they realize they’re not in control.”

  That meant all clear for us.

  My team was made up of the best of the best. They moved in on the house as if they were a part of the shadows. They were approaching without sound, leaving no trace, and unless someone was watching us, they were ghosts.

  We were ghosts.

  There was a small team of three in front of me, and a team of four behind me. There were more approaching from the other side of the house. We came in from over the neighboring dividing fences.

  A door was unlocked.

  We slipped inside.

  The men before me spread through the side of the house.

  “Heat signatures have two at the front. Two at the back. Two upstairs. One in the kitchen. Two in the basement,” came from our coms.

  We’d gone over the blueprints. There was no easy entrance. “There’s no way they’d keep him in the basement. If they’re attacked, they’d want at least two escape routes,” Harden argued. He pointed at the plans, his finger digging into them. “If there are heat signatures in the basement, I guarantee you that it’s a decoy. He won’t be kept there. My guess is that if there’s a heat signature upstairs, that’s him. They can take him over a balcony or climb onto the roof. Two ways to escape, other than the obvious.”

  Harden spoke with confidence, but it didn’t feel right to me.

  Now we were moving to the kitchen.

  We were supposed to draw one guard out at a time. I was the decoy for that trap, but it didn’t feel right. None of this felt right.

  Two at the front. Two at the back. Two upstairs. One in the kitchen. Two in the basement.

  We were in the east side of the house, so we had three options: front, back, kitchen.

  The front would be too vulnerable to a frontal assault. The same with the back end of the house. But the kitchen … I wished I had Bailey’s memory. I tapped Harden’s shoulder in front of me. He held his hand up. The rest of our group paused.

  I typed out my thoughts on my phone and held up the screen. It was turned on night mode and dimmed, so when he read it, none of us were worried a sudden flash of light would alert anyone else in the house.

  Does the kitchen have two exits?

  He frowned.

  I pulled my phone back and typed again.

  Two are in the back. They’re surrounding the kitchen. Above, below, behind, in front.

  He knew what I was saying. My brother was the one in the kitchen, but instead of replying or making a decision, he raised my phone so the computer team would be able to read it. The camera was hooked on his night vision goggles.

  A second later, we heard in our ears, “The kitchen has two exits. A door and hallway connects to the garage. There’s also a door leading to the backyard. The two heat signatures are on the back patio.”

  The voice added, “You have one minute to get out. Decide and go.”

  Harden made a hand motion, signaling to the rest of the team.

  The four behind me moved ahead.

  We’d decided.

  Harden had a hand on my shoulder, and he held me in place. Once his men were lined up against the wall, he walked me past them. At the opening, he tapped me twice on the back.

  I was to go.

  He raised a hand in front of his camera. In sync with his motions, the voice in our ears said, “Three. Two.”

  I walked out.

  “What the—”

  It was enough.

  The guards in the living room were alerted first, but they were confused by the sight of me. My men used that second. They rushed forward, getting the jump on them, and I ran into the next room. When I went into the kitchen, I understood their shock. Chase? We still hadn’t been officially introduced to each other, but Chase was handcuffed to a chair. He had restraints around almost every part of his body. Looking at him, I searched for signs of abuse. I saw nothing. He looked fine. No bags of exhaustion under his eyes. No gaunt look around his mouth to show he was hungry. His skin was fine, so he was hydrated. He was merely held captive.

  His eyes cut to mine as shouting and shots erupted in the air behind us.

  I darted to him, but paused right before trying to cut through his restraints. “If you make me regret this”—I placed the edge of the knife to his throat—“I will find you and I will finish this job. Do you understand me?”

  There was no reaction from him. He didn’t blink. He only said, “Yes.” His gaze held mine steadily the entire time.

  Another second, and Harden came in yelling. “They’ve dispatched more agents. We have to go now!”

  “I need help.”

  Harden holstered his gun and dropped to his knees. A second later, another man joined and we were hurrying through the restraints.

  Harden cursed. “We can’t wait.”

  I looked up. We’d only gotten through four of the restraints. “What do you suggest? Because I’m not leaving him behind.”

  Harden’s eyes flashed at me right before he took a step back, brought his gun up. He shot through the two back legs of the chair. Wood exploded in the air. I had enough time to jump at the same time the second man grabbed my vest and hauled me back, too. The momentum kept me clear from any shards getting into my skin.

  Chase wasn’t as lucky. He winced, readying himself, his head lowered and bracing.

  The guy let me go, grunting as he passed me. “Minor scrapes. The trajectory sent the wood in your direction.”

  Good to know.

  Chase was glowering at both of them. “This is who you had on him?”

  Him. Our eyes met. We both knew who he meant.

  Harden grabbed the back of the chair and answered for me. “Yep, and your granddaddy didn’t have a clue. If you’re thinking of complaining, save it. We don’t have an HR department, if you know what I mean.” With that said, he lifted.

  The second guy lifted the other side.

  The back door was shoved open. A guy appeared and yelled, “We have to go now! Now!”

  “We know. We’re coming!” Harden yelled back.

  The third guy saw the dilemma and his eyes got big. “Clear some space! They’re bringing him out strapped to a chair.”

  They carried my brother out the back, going through the door being held open by the third guy. All of us darted over the backyard. Men were working behind us. There were a bunch of flashes as the third guy ran next to me. He took my arm, guiding me into the second vehicle. I saw them taking my brother to the first vehicle.

  “No.”

  The guy’s grip tightened.

  I knocked it off, twisting out of his hold, and at his look of surprise, I snarled back, “Do not attempt to force me. I know your skill level. You don’t know mine.” He let me go. I took advantage and moved around him.

  They were loading Chase into the back. I jumped in next to him. They were going to shove him in and shut the door. I got in right as they were reaching for the door.

  The guy saw me and paused. “What—”

  Harden shot me a look, but commanded, “Leave him. We have to go.”

  After that, they got in. Doors were closed. The rest of the guys streamed out and loaded up. We were off.

  I waited until we got one block before speaking. “Did you kill those agents?”

  Chase seemed to tense next to me.

  There was no going back if they had. All of this would’ve been for nothing.

  Harden turned around from the front seat. His eyes locked on mine and he shook his head. “Not one. They were tranqed. That was it.”

  Good. I didn’t need the feds coming after me for murder.

  We’d gone one more block before we heard in our ears, “Uh, guys?”

  Harden pressed his com. “What is it?”

  “Feds are going the opposite way of you.”

  Harden twisted back to me, frowning.

  He wasn’t the only one. I leaned forward. “How?”

  “Someone broke into our system and took control,” the voice in our ear answered,

  “How did that happen?”

  The voice was in disbelief. “Remotely. Someone set up at a close enough distance, got in, took our signal, and they’re leading them away.”

  I knew.

  I knew.

  Anger, hot and pulsating, rolled through my body, and I growled out an order. “You take that hack back and you send the feds anywhere except after that car.”

  “I’ll try, but they’re moving out of range. I don’t know if I can stop it.”

  “She’s smart. Trust your woman,” Chase said.

  Trust her? I half growled right back at him. “Are you kidding me? You don’t know her.”

  A glimmer of a smile flashed at me, then it was gone. He coughed, the exhaustion now seeping in, and his head bobbed up and down. “You’re right. I don’t.”

  He seemed to dissolve in front of me.

  What I saw in the house had been what he wanted those agents to see. Now he was here, and the mask was slipping. It was falling fast, too.

  “Wait. The signal is gone,” said the voice in our ears.

  I didn’t necessarily believe it, but I was praying. I was praying hard.

  “We’re good. The feds are turning back to the house. The signal is totally gone.”

  Thank God. Bailey was safe.

  Still, I touched my radio. “I want a car sent to where that location was. Find her, follow her from a distance.”

  “Got it.” And then, “A car has been dispatched. I got control again and went in to clear out the memory data or anything missed. But it’s completely gone.”

  Harden shook his head. “What do you mean it’s gone? There should still be some feed there. You said you couldn’t loop over and replace their feed, but you could halt it from going to them and then go in and erase it.”

  “That’s what I was going to do, but there’s no system left. She destroyed it all.”

  “Jeez,” said one of the men in the vehicle.

  Another laughed. “Can we recruit her?”

  We drove the rest of the way in silence, taking back roads, and the only person who was making a sound was my brother. He was laughing.

  “I like your woman. A lot.”

  “Shut up.”

  FIFTY-TWO

  Bailey

  I was coming out of the shower when the bedroom door slammed shut. A second later, the bathroom door was shoved open. In strode Kash.

  Correction.

  I’d been reaching for a towel, and my hand grabbed it, drawing it to me, but my concentration was all on what was coming toward me. He wasn’t coming at me light and casual. Oh hell no. He was heated. His eyes were flaring with some unnamed emotion, an emotion that was sending serious shivers down my back. And he wasn’t striding to me. There was no “stride” about him.

  He was stalking me.

  Kashton was in full-on predator mode, and I drew back just by instinct.

  I pulled the towel farther to my chest, but then he was there. The towel was ripped from my hands, tossed to the floor, and he was crowding me in. Hands to my hips. Eyes pinning me in place, he eased me all the way back to the shower wall. He was fully clothed. I was fully naked. But it didn’t matter.

  He. Was. Pissed.

  My heart sank.

  “I did it to help you.”

  “Who asked for your help?”

  The words were clipped out, though it wasn’t really in a question form.

  I gulped.

  He was fighting for control, but it was slipping.

  Kash had darkness inside him. I knew it. I’d always known it, and I used to salivate over feeling that side of him, especially in bed. He could make me forget weeks, all just begging for the feel of him inside of me. My body was addicted to him. I’d always been desperate for his touch. A fevered rush would come over me. I would be frenzied for him. But he’d never directed that side of him toward me outside of the bed, and as he drew up to me, pushing against my body, I wasn’t sure what was happening here.

  I didn’t know if he was so mad that he was going to punish me … Well, correction, I knew that was the case.

  Another shiver went up my spine this time.

  I swallowed over a knot, half of it forming from fear and the other half already reacting to the proximity of his body. I was leaning into him when his hand grabbed mine. He pushed it gently against the wall behind me, his hand over my wrist, and he leaned down, all the way in my face.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  I blinked a few times. “I wanted to help you.”

  “Why?” His growl was more savage this time, more primal.

  I was feeling it all the way between my legs, and I was beginning to throb.

  “Because…” I licked my lips.

  I wanted him.

  Now.

  Not later.

  Not in a minute.

  Now.

  I began rubbing against him, and he was already hard. He was really hard. “Kash,” I murmured.

  He grasped my other wrist and pinned it above my head.

  His head still pushed so he was breathing on me, he angled his hips back.

  I mewled, wanting him back where he’d been.

  “You seem to mistake the position you’re in here.”

  He was cold.

  My eyes snapped to his face.

  A whole slew of shivers moved through me.

  The rational part of me, the side that thought, was telling me to proceed with caution. He was starting to lose control, a little edge at a time. But the feeling side of me, the body part of me, was starving. It’d been twelve hours ago when he left me in bed, and my mission to help had already been made up in my mind. It’d been the only thing that held me back and let me watch him leave the room. If I hadn’t decided that, I couldn’t have let him leave. If he had gone or not, neither of us would’ve known the outcome of that fight. But it was what it was.

  Some of those memories were splashing reality on him. I was sputtering in the cold, and I searched his gaze again and felt chilled to the bone.

  “You wouldn’t hurt me,” I said, not thinking.

  His eyes flashed.

  I knew he wouldn’t. But in bed … yes. He would hurt me there, in a good way. He would punish me.

  A raw snarl ripped from low in his throat, and his hips slammed against me.

  “I told you not to push me.”

  I was pushing.

  “Bailey,” he rasped out.

  He was losing his restraint.

  Please.

  Yes.

  I was moving before I knew I was moving.

  My hips were grinding against him. My legs lifted and he had to catch me or I would’ve fallen. He let go of my pinned wrists, his hands catching me under my thighs as my legs wrapped around him. My breasts were flush against his chest, and my hands raked through his hair.

  Our mouths met.

  We both knew where this was going.

  Our tongues were battling.

  He was loose. This monster in him. My monster.

  He was out and he was in my arms, and I was stroking him, further inflaming him.

  Kash gripped me, his mouth owning me before he dropped me to the floor. My feet hit the ground with a thud, but his hands caught my hips. He held me, not letting me drop farther. I was flipped around.

  My wrists were caught, raised, and pinned above my head.

  I was trying to rub against him, but there was another growl as he shoved my hips forward, holding me captive against the wall.

  I heard a zipper.

  His pants fell.

  I felt the whoosh of them in the air.

  A hand slid up the inside of my legs. He found my middle, one finger went in, and he bent me upward for him. A stroke. A thrust.

  I was already panting, already dripping.

  And then his hand left and he shoved inside.

  Hard. Deep. Rough.

  He was not gentle.

  I did not want gentle.

  I wanted these strokes, how hard he was going. I wanted to be punished.

  I swear that I blacked out from the pleasure. It was pulsating, throbbing. It was so strong, so powerful, that I could only cry out as the first climax hurtled through me. It tore me on the inside and I hadn’t been ready for it.

  Kash wasn’t done.

  He kept thrusting.

  He was becoming more forceful with each slide inside, until it wasn’t enough. The angle wasn’t doing it for him, and he pulled out. He lifted me in the air. I felt as if I were flying for the brief second, then he was inside me again. He pushed up and all the way.

  My legs were wrapped so tight around him I felt the back of his hip bones gliding with his movements. His back muscles were all coiled and smooth, lithely rolling as one motion as he pounded into me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. I was back up, my hands raking through his hair, and I yanked him back. This wasn’t just a one-way street.