Midnight Target

  Cate instantly knew what he was implying. There was a leak in the Drug Enforcement Agency. How else would her name have gotten back to the cartel?

  “Are you tracking down the leak?” she asked in a tight voice.

  “Already on it.” He paused. “ETA—one minute.”

  She parted the curtains again and peeked out. Her heart stuttered when she made eye contact with a teenage thug sitting on the stoop of the building across the street. He leaned in to say something to one of his cohorts, and then both teens glanced up at her. She couldn’t make out their expressions, but just the fact that they were so focused on her window made her uneasy.

  “Start to head downstairs,” Morgan ordered.

  “There are some kids across the street,” she whispered, then chastised herself for lowering her voice. It wasn’t like those boys could hear her all the way up here. “They keep staring at this apartment.”

  “Did anybody see you enter the building when you got there? I told you to use the fire escape.”

  “I did,” she assured him. Then she gulped. “There were a couple people in the alley, though. Looked like they were in the middle of a drug deal, but they were several yards away and I don’t think they even glanced my way.” But they were doing a hell of a lot more than glancing at her now. Their gazes were superglued to her window. “Does Rivera have people in this area?”

  “Rivera has people everywhere,” Morgan said grimly. “Come downstairs, sweetheart. We’re almost here.”

  Releasing a shaky breath, Cate let go of the curtains and walked toward the back bedroom where the fire escape was located. She swung her legs over the narrow ledge, her bare feet protesting when they connected with the sun-warmed metal landing.

  Fuck, her feet hurt. And her flannel pants and tank top were downright embarrassing. She didn’t want her father to see her like this. Jim Morgan gave new meaning to the phrase be prepared. He would never have gotten blindsided the way she had back at the hotel, and he always, always had a jump bag with him. Hell, he probably slept with one on the bed between him and Noelle. The man could dress in seconds and be fully armed in even less time.

  And here she was in her stupid pajamas, with all her identification and documents still in her hotel room. The only items she had on her were her phone and her gun, though Morgan might actually be proud of that. She’d managed to hang on to both as a means of protection and a means of communication. And, really, weren’t those the only survival tools that counted?

  She descended the ladder as fast as she could, breathing in relief when she didn’t encounter anyone in the alley this time. The moment her feet met the pavement, she scurried along the side of the building just as a black SUV with heavily tinted windows pulled up to the curb.

  The passenger door flew open.

  When her father appeared in front of her, a gust of relief almost knocked her over. She soaked in the sight of his familiar blue eyes, dark cobalt just like her own. His cropped hair, chiseled features, strong arms that drew her in for a quick hug.

  “You okay?” he said gruffly, his breath fanning over her ear.

  “I’m fine.” She sagged wearily against him. “Let’s just get out of—”

  The squeal of tires cut her off.

  Cate swung around in time to see two other vehicles skid in their direction. Another SUV, and a military Jeep holding four men, three of whom dove out before the vehicle had even come to a stop.

  She didn’t have time to blink or think or duck for cover. All she registered was the glint of metal shining in the early morning sunlight. All she heard was Morgan shouting at her to get down. From the corner of her eye, she saw the back door of Morgan’s SUV burst open. Two men lunged out. Blond hair, dark hair. Kane and Ash.

  Cate’s heart flew into her throat as a tattoo-sleeved arm swung up to point an automatic weapon in her direction.

  The next thing she knew, her ears were ringing like a carnival game and a heavy anvil was crushing her torso.

  What the hell . . . ?

  It wasn’t until Morgan’s hand clutched her shoulder and his entire body shuddered against her that she realized he’d thrown himself in front of her.

  The man who’d been about to shoot her had hit Morgan instead.

  “Dad!” Cate could barely hear her own shout over the deafening gunshots.

  Morgan was like dead weight on top of her, but his eyes remained sharp and determined even as his hand trembled against the door handle.

  “Get in,” he croaked.

  “You’re hurt! Kane! Ash! He’s hurt!”

  But the men couldn’t hear her. They were too busy diving out of sight while firing at the armed men who’d decided to conduct an all-out assault at six o’clock in the morning.

  A bullet whizzed by Cate’s head and shattered the back passenger window of the car, sending shards of glass into her hair and face. Ignoring the tiny nicks that scraped along her cheek, she snapped to action. It took all of her strength to push her father, all two hundred pounds of him, into the backseat of the SUV.

  She probably shouldn’t be moving him. That could make everything worse. But . . . but damn it, right now she was more worried that a bullet might find its way into his brain.

  The car door suddenly slammed shut. A heavy thump shook the bare window frame and Cate caught a brief glimpse of Ash’s face. His features were feral as he shouted at the driver.

  “Go! Get him to a hospital! We’ll take care of this.”

  They’d take care of it? Before Cate could ask how on earth they would take care of six men shooting at them, the car lurched forward. She saw a flash of blond hair from the driver’s seat—Noelle, who didn’t say a single word. The woman floored it and sped away just as the back windshield shattered, sending another shower of glass over Cate and her father.

  Morgan was lying facedown, half-draped over Cate’s lap, his big, muscular body barely fitting into the backseat. When she peered down, she was horrified to see that her hands were bright red. He was bleeding profusely.

  “He’s losing a lot of blood,” she told her father’s wife. “I don’t even know how many times he was shot. How close is the hospital?”

  “We can’t risk going to a hospital,” Noelle called without turning around. Her laser eyes were focused on the road ahead, and Cate had no doubt she’d mow over any pedestrian that crossed her path if it meant getting Morgan to safety.

  “Then where are we going?” Cate demanded, ignoring the frantic pounding of her heart. Jesus, she felt close to passing out.

  “We have a contact. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. We’ll get him to a doctor.”

  Cate pressed her palms on her father’s left side, where he seemed to be bleeding the most. Almost immediately, her hands grew sticky, slippery with blood. She was about to remove her shirt, but then realized that her thin tank top would do nothing to staunch this kind of blood flow.

  “Give me your shirt,” she yelled to Noelle.

  Even as she steered the SUV at a breakneck pace, the blonde quickly slipped out of her long-sleeve shirt, which left her in nothing but a bra. She tossed the shirt over, and Cate balled it up and held it to Morgan’s wound. It wasn’t long before the fabric was soaked through.

  Oh God. What if he didn’t make it? What if he—

  No, he would make it. He was Jim Morgan, for fuck’s sake.

  Her breaths came out in ragged, fear-laced puffs. She applied as much pressure to Morgan’s lower back as she could. She had no idea if he was even conscious. If he was even breathing. As the car bounced on the potholes of the unmaintained roads of this godforsaken country, Cate bent over and brought her lips to her father’s ear.

  “Stay with me,” she begged. “You hear me, Dad? Don’t you dare leave me.”

  * * *

  Those fuckers had big guns and weren’t afraid to use them.

&nbs
p; Ash was mildly shocked that he wasn’t riddled with bullet holes, though he probably would’ve been if Kane hadn’t pushed him behind this concrete ledge at the side of the building’s front entrance.

  They were under siege. Bullets slammed into the low wall that Ash and his teammate were using as shelter. Cement splintered off the shoddily built barrier, jagged pieces of plaster snapping off it and onto the sidewalk.

  As Kane provided cover fire, Ash bolted to his feet and fired his assault rifle in the direction of the men. One of the cars—the Jeep—was speeding away, and he caught a glimpse of one dark head behind the wheel. Didn’t seem like the guy was going for help either. He was abandoning his comrades, the fucking pussy.

  But Ash had bigger fish to fry than one coward who didn’t have the balls to fight like a man. Another round of cover fire from Kane and he popped out again, this time managing to take out two of the men. That left three who were spraying the ledge with bullets. It wouldn’t be long before it shattered completely and some of that lead found its way through the cracks and into Ash’s body. He just prayed that Noelle and Cate had gotten Jim to safety.

  It had all happened so fast, but Ash had been in combat before and he knew when another soldier was in trouble. By throwing himself in front of Cate, Morgan had provided a target for the shooters—his back. And that was a big fucking target.

  Noelle will take care of him. You take care of these assholes.

  He slid back down and flattened himself against the wall.

  “Cover me,” Kane barked. His face was streaked with dirt, his blond hair was mussed up, and there was a wild look in his eyes. It was hard to hear him over the unceasing racket of assault rifles. “Gonna make my way to the SUV, try to flank them.”

  Ash nodded grimly and reloaded his clip. Kane did the same. Pieces of rubble continued to splinter off the top of the ledge and fly past their faces. Those fuckers were just standing there and firing in a steady stream, as if hoping one of their bullets eventually found its mark.

  These men weren’t coordinated or precise. They were hired guns that had all the finesse of a herd of rampaging buffalo. Ash wasn’t sure if they had more than a couple of functioning brain cells among the lot of them. Just fat trigger fingers, automatic weapons, and a shitload of ammo, which meant that because Ash and Kane were still breathing, it was going to be a cakewalk to take these assholes down.

  Ready? Ash mouthed.

  His teammate gave a brisk nod.

  Ash slid toward the other side of the wall, while Kane belly-crawled toward the other. Their eyes met. On Kane’s silent count, Ash flew up and fired at the three remaining gunmen.

  He hit one in the arm. The guy’s body twitched. Then he released an outraged roar and suddenly every gun was aimed in Ash’s direction.

  Adrenaline coursing through him, he dropped back down and fell onto his stomach like a snake while chunks of debris rained over him. The latest round of gunfire had taken out a piece of the building, but luckily none of the falling bricks landed on his head. When he dared to look up, Kane was gone.

  A sense of sick satisfaction washed over him. Good. This would be over soon.

  Very soon, in fact.

  Less than five seconds later, Kane’s booming voice echoed in the early morning air. “Drop it or he dies.”

  A bullet casing pinged off the pavement, and then silence fell over the sunshine-bathed street. Ash peeked out and grinned savagely when he saw Kane pressing the muzzle of a semiautomatic into the left temple of a tall, dark-haired man. He immediately understood why his teammate had targeted this particular man.

  It was Adrián Rivera.

  Fucking hell. The confirmation they’d yet to receive about the hotel massacre came loud and clear now: the Rivera cartel was after Cate. They’d sent another hit squad to terminate her—headed by none other than Mateo Rivera’s eldest son.

  “Shoot him!” Rivera growled to his men, but the two goons were flustered like a teenage boy on prom night.

  “Drop your weapons,” Kane snapped.

  “Don’t listen to him! He’ll kill me regardless! Shoot him!”

  They hesitated.

  Ash didn’t.

  He flew up and popped each of them in the head, and before their bodies had even hit the ground, Kane had pulled the trigger on Adrián Rivera.

  “Jesus,” Ash murmured as he stared at the destruction they’d caused in such a short amount of time.

  Dead bodies were strewn all around him. Blood pooled in the cracks and crevices of the pavement, shining deep red under the sun’s rays. Bullet casings everywhere. Shards of cement, debris. It looked like a fucking war zone.

  “You nuts?” he exclaimed when Kane threw open the driver’s door of the cartel crew’s SUV. “There’s probably a tracker in that thing.”

  “Probably. But we’ll ditch it in a few blocks. Right now we just need to get the hell out of here before the police show up. Get in, Rook.”

  Though reluctant, Ash climbed into the passenger side. A second later, Kane stepped on the gas and shot away, leaving the bloody scene in their rearview mirror.

  Chapter 7

  Two years ago

  “You’re leaving?”

  Cate looked around Ash’s bedroom in dismay. He had his pack by the door and all of his other gear laid out and ready to be stowed in another duffel.

  “I didn’t . . . Jim didn’t . . .” She couldn’t seem to form a complete sentence, thanks to the disappointment clogging her throat.

  “It’s a short trip. No more than a week or so.” Ash threw the empty duffel onto the bed and started packing. “The actual rescue should only take a day, but we need to go in and gather intel first.”

  “I know that.” Cate had been around Jim enough to know how these things went down. What she didn’t understand was why Ash had been assigned to this mission. “But you just got back.”

  He shrugged, and Cate bit her lip as she watched the interplay of his muscles beneath his tight-fitting T-shirt. Back muscles like his were ridiculous. And don’t get her started about the rest of his body. How could her father think she would ever be interested in those pasty-faced college boys when she was surrounded by men like Ash?

  “Morgan asked me to.”

  It took her a moment to figure out what he was saying, because she’d been so caught up in lusting after his super ripped bod. “Why you, though?”

  She perched herself on the bed next to his supplies. If she just sat on them, would he be forced to stay?

  “Why not me?” He tugged a pair of cargo pants out from under her butt.

  “Because you just got back. Because there are other people who can go.” Because I’m leaving for college in a week and I’m still a virgin. Um, she should probably only offer the first part. “Because I’m leaving for college and wanted to see you before I left.”

  “Maybe we’ll be back before you go.”

  Right. And pigs would fly.

  Tamping down her rising anxiety, she watched as he packed away his stuff at an alarmingly fast rate. “Doubtful. But it’s not just that you’re going to be gone. It’s that I’m always the one being left behind. Going to college is pushing me farther away.” She swallowed. “This is my family. You’re part of my family.”

  Ash zipped his pack closed and shoved it aside to sit next to her. “Why Brown, then? It’s pretty far away. There are schools in Texas or Florida that are only a couple hours away.”

  She threw herself backward, letting the mattress catch her fall. “Do you know that you’re the first person to ask me that?”

  His face appeared above her. “Really?”

  “Yup. I told Jim I was going to Brown and he said, where do I send the check.”

  “So you don’t want to go to Brown?”

  She closed her eyes. “I threw the applications on the floor and spun around
until I fell on one.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Ah, sugar, why would you do that?” A light touch landed on her forehead.

  Her eyelids flickered open to see Ash smoothing a wayward strand of hair away from her face, and her breath instantly lodged in her throat.

  Last night, the men had been cleaning their guns on the terrace—Ash, Ethan, Kane, and Morgan. They were laughing about something. Cate had stood at the doorway, mesmerized by the way Ash had moved as he rubbed the oiled cloth over the gun barrel, over and over again. She’d watched his muscles bunch and release as he cleaned and gripped and pulled. She’d thought of all the ways he could do the same to her with his big, capable hands.

  Her lips went dry at the memory. When her tongue darted out to wet them, she could swear she tasted him on the air.

  Their eyes caught, and that connection she often wondered about, constantly fantasized about, took shape as the heat in Ash’s gaze fired the need in her own. She became acutely aware that she was wearing nothing more than a thin, yellow cotton shift. It was hot and humid today, and she hadn’t bothered with a bra. She never wore one if she didn’t have to.

  Cate reached up, a little surprised at her own brazenness, but . . . nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

  She was leaving.

  He was leaving.

  And she wanted him to have an idea of what he was going to be missing.

  As her hand moved closer, Ash didn’t duck away like he usually did. Cate’s fingertips landed on the dark stubble of his cheek, the short hairs pricking her palm.

  He stayed there, like she’d tamed him or captured him, for one breath and then another, until Cate forgot she needed air.

  “Ash.” His name floated from her lips in one long exhale.

  That sound was enough to break the spell. He didn’t jerk away. No, he was too smooth for that. But his eyes shuttered as he took her palm, kissed it, and then, gently but firmly, laid it against her chest.

  “I was in the Marines.”