“I don’t want you to go.”

The pleas tugged at him, made him think about doing stupid things that didn’t fit with his life or the need to keep her protected. “You’ll be safe with him.”

Her other hand went to his lap. Smoothed up and down his thigh. “You make me feel safe.”

The touching, the sound of her voice, the pleading in those big eyes. He was ten seconds from breaking. “Don’t do this.”

She nuzzled her mouth against his neck. Blew a warm breath over his skin. He fought it until he couldn’t, then he turned his head and kissed her. Right there in another man’s house, in a place with security but no connection to Cam.

It took every ounce of his strength and self-control to pull back. When that didn’t give him enough space, he stood up. Paced around and thought about airplanes. Anything to take his mind off her face and the touch of those lips.

“Then I’m going with you.”

Cornered

HelenKay Dimon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

HELENKAY DIMON, an award-winning author, spent twelve years in the most unromantic career ever—divorce lawyer. After dedicating all that effort to helping people terminate relationships, she is thrilled to deal in happy endings and write romance novels for a living. Now her days are filled with gardening, writing, reading and spending time with her family in and around San Diego. Stop by her website, www.helenkaydimon.com, and say hello.

For all the readers who asked for more Corcoran Team books—thank you! I love these guys, too.

Contents

Cover

Excerpt

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

A crack of gunfire echoed through the towering trees. That sort of thing would have sent Julia White scrambling for her cell phone and dialing for the police back in her normal life. But not on Calapan Island, the tiny strip of land miles from Seattle and accessible only by ferry. Here people fired weapons for sport, as a warning or just because it was Tuesday.

She didn’t know the reason this time and didn’t much care. Rather than flinch or worry, she stayed kneeling in the dirt, weeding the overgrown rectangle of roots and vines that had once been a garden alive with color.

The summer sun warmed her bare arms as the breeze lifted her hair off her shoulders and kept it dancing in front of her eyes. Needing a drink of water and a barrette, she stabbed the end of the sharp shovel into the ground and stood. A break sounded good after an hour of getting nowhere on the massive yard-work project.

She made it two steps before shots rang out again, this time multiple and in bursts. At the sound of the rapid rat-a-tat-tat, she spun around, trying to judge the distance between her and the bullets. Her gaze zipped from one end of the open yard to the other. A thunder of noise she couldn’t identify filled her ears and grew closer as she scanned the part of the two acres she could see without moving away from the protective shield of the house.

A tangle of trees blocked her view to what lay beyond her father’s falling-down property, but she didn’t hesitate. Living in Seattle for the past two years had taught her one thing: don’t invite danger. That meant moving. Smart women knew when to run.

She took off for the back porch as she tapped the pockets of her cargo shorts in search of her phone. Empty. Maybe that was for the best, since what passed for police on the island didn’t exactly fill her with a sense of security. More like dread.

Her foot hit the bottom step right as the hair on the back of her neck stirred. That only made her jog faster. Anxiety rocketed through her as she reached for the door. Just as she tugged she heard it—heavy breathing, and not hers. She whipped her head around in time to see someone barreling toward her. Broad shoulders and big. Male and fast.

Her hand slipped on the knob, but she turned it. She managed to open the door an inch before a man’s hand slammed against the frame by her head. The heat from his body radiated against her back as panic swamped her. She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand clamped over her face, blocking the sound.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” The harsh whisper brushed across her ear.

Yeah, no way was she believing that.

She kicked out and shoved. Flailed and tried to run again, this time for the tree line. She would not go out like this. She’d always joked that if she stayed on Calapan she’d die. She refused to let that prediction come true.

She elbowed him in the stomach and heard him swear in response. Another shot or two like that and she might be able to put some distance between them and get inside. Gathering all her strength, she drew her arm forward again and pushed back. She hit nothing but air.

One minute she stood locked in an epic battle on the porch. The next, her attacker reached around her and got the door open. He propelled her forward, slamming the door behind them and locking them both inside.

He held up his hands as he stared at her with big blue eyes. “Please listen to me.”

He could beg all he wanted. The dimple, those shoulders, the objective cuteness...she wasn’t buying any of it. She’d never been charmed by a handsome face before and wasn’t starting now.

If he wanted a fight, fine. She’d give him one. Without thinking or analyzing, almost on autopilot, she ran for the small family room on the far side of the kitchen. Guns didn’t scare her, because they were a way of life on Calapan. Growing up here, she’d learned how to shoot. Cans, mostly, but she didn’t plan on telling her attacker about that limitation.

Footsteps beat in time with hers. She ran. He stalked. He kept talking—something about needing her help—but she blocked it all out, her only thought being to find that rifle. There was a Glock around here, too.

“Ma’am, slow down for a second.”

Not likely. She put a couch between them as she tried to remember where she had left the guns after she moved them around this morning. Her mind flipped to the fireplace, and a quick glance revealed one leaning against the mantel. The same fireplace mantel next to the attacker and not her.

Her mind raced with directions. Draw him out. Let him talk. She skipped all of it. “Get out.”

“I will not hurt you.” He hadn’t lowered his hands.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t. Her gaze dipped to the gun strapped to his hip and the trickle of blood running down from the edge of the sleeve of his navy T-shirt. “Then leave.”

“My name is Cameron Roth.”

As if she cared. “Fine. Leave, Cameron.”

“I work for a group called the Corcoran Team.”

She didn’t even know what he was talking about. Her mind stayed focused on the gun, the blood, the shots and the fact that a stranger stood in front of her. The combination was all her brain could process at the moment.

“I don’t know who this team is, but you can go find them.” She bit back the tremble in her voice and tried to get the words out as quickly and clearly as possible. “I’ll pretend this never happened, but you need to leave now.”

“I can’t.”

Looked as though logic wouldn’t work on this guy. She mentally measured the distance from her to the gun and wondered if she could get there before he put his hands down. “You mean won’t.”

“I need you to stop worrying.”

That voice, all soothing and calm. It called to her, but she refused to trust it. Not when it promised a one-way ticket to getting injured...or worse. “That’s not going to happen with you standing in the middle of my house.”

“I’m one of the good guys.”

“Says the man who grabbed me and dragged me inside.” Her gaze traveled over him and she thought she made out another weapon tucked into his jeans and outlined by his slim tee. “Were you the one out there shooting?”

All emotion left his face. His blank expression didn’t give anything away. “There was a problem.”

Forget the weapon—with that nonanswer the guy should be a lawyer. “I’ll give you the keys to the car. You can take it and—”

“No.” At his bark, she took a step back and he moved in, closing the gap again. “I’m here on assignment.”

“What are you talking about?” She had no clue.

This was the nightmare that wouldn’t end. She should have stayed in Seattle and let the house stand abandoned. Her father was gone and she didn’t owe anyone on Calapan anything.

“I rendezvous with my team in fifteen minutes.”

Again with the team thing. “Be extra punctual and go now.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I would, but I don’t want to be shot.”

She wasn’t sure if he was laughing at her or with her but didn’t like either option. “That makes two of us, Cameron.”

Some of the tension left his shoulders as he nodded toward the couch. “Sit.”

He had to be kidding. “No.”

“I’m at a disadvantage here. What’s your name?”

This guy just kept talking when she needed him gone. “You aren’t going to be here long enough for that to matter.”

“There are some nasty people after me.” He lowered his arms, but his hand didn’t venture near the gun. “I’m just hiding out here for a few minutes.”

“Who?” If there were more people out there with weapons, she wanted to be ready.

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Who is after you?”

His gaze went to the rifle and lingered for a second before returning to her face. “Let’s just say some of the people on this island can’t be trusted.”

Yeah, that was a lesson she knew all too well. “Understatement.”

“What?”

She ignored the question because she had bigger problems. Now he knew where all the weapons were. That left knives, and grabbing for those gave her the shivers. “Just so we’re clear, you’re running around the island shooting and being tracked by someone and have no trouble manhandling me—”

“That didn’t actually happen.”

“—yet I’m supposed to trust you.” Her voice got louder as she went on.

He had the nerve to smile at her. “Yes.”

“I’m not an idiot.” Sure, her brain kept malfunctioning and waves of fear crashed over her every two seconds, but she was not letting her world end like this.

“I never said you were.”

“And I have a phone.” She lunged for the landline. It had been disconnected months before, after her father died. But this Cameron guy didn’t know that...at least, she hoped he didn’t. “The police can come and you can explain your problem.”

“That’s not going to work.”

She’d read somewhere that trying to form a bond with an attacker sometimes helped humanize the victim. Since she was the victim, she was willing to try anything. “Tell me why, Cameron.”

“You can call me Cam.”

Apparently the bond thing worked. She shook the phone. “Talk or I’m dialing 9-1-1.”

“That would be a mistake.”

There was something about the way he said it. “Why?”

“The police are the problem.”

A crack shattered the glass behind her, spraying it over the room. She ducked. Probably screamed. Just as she crossed her arm over her head, a heavy weight crashed into her. She hit the floor and skidded across it with Cameron on top of her.

When they stopped, he pinned her down. The second their bodies touched she started moving. She shifted her legs and tried to knee him anywhere it would hurt. He caught her leg and held a hand up as if to tell her to be quiet. The whole time his gaze scanned the room and his gun dug into her stomach.

Through all the kicking and squirming, the silence finally registered in her brain. She picked up his breathing and heard her own hammering in her ears. Other than that, nothing. No more shooting. No yelling.

He leaned up on his elbow and glanced down with their faces only inches apart. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

He lifted his body off her and looked down the slim space between them. “You’re hit?”

“I mean mentally.” When she realized Cam’s body shielded hers, that he was protecting, not attacking, she let the backs of her hands fall against the dusty floor. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“That makes two of us.” He shifted his body to the side as he slipped the gun out of its holster.

“Who is shooting at you now?” And why had Cam brought the person to her doorstep?

He crawled over to the one remaining intact family room window, ignoring the broken glass from the previous chaos and the crunching under his knees. “Your police chief.”

Chief Kreider wasn’t her anything. The guy had the whole old-boy thing down, all entitled and drunk on power...except for those times he was actually drunk. She was not a fan.

Following Cam, because he seemed like a good guy to hide behind, she sat on the other side of the window and peeked out. Three random men stood out there, armed and dressed in some sort of law-enforcement uniforms. None of them looked familiar and they all wore lethal shoot-first expressions.

That fast, she lost her ability to breathe.

Cam pulled her back down. “Be careful.”

She only caught a glimpse, but... “You said you were fighting the police chief, right?”

“The guy standing in the middle of your yard.”

“None of them is the police chief.”

Cam’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“I think your problem just got bigger.”

“And I think, since you’re trapped in here with me, I’m not the only one with a problem.” He reached behind his back and took out a second gun. Before she could scream or bolt, he handed it to her. “Do you know how to use this?”

“Yes.” She took it but wished she didn’t have to.

“Good.”

“Not really.” Something collapsed inside her. “I hate this island.”

This time he did smile at her, full and sexy and the exact opposite of threatening. He opened her hand and put the gun in it. “Looks as if we finally agree on something.”

For some reason she didn’t find the look or his cuteness comforting. “Julia White.”

“What?”

“I figure if we’re going to die together you should know my name.” It actually hurt to say those words.

Not that they affected him. No, he winked at her. “You’re not dying on my watch, Julia.”

“You sound confident.”

“You can consider it a guarantee.”

Chapter Two

Cam slid his body up along the wall and stood up. With his back covered, he peeked outside again. The men outside hadn’t moved, which struck him as pretty bad planning. If he were in charge of the attack party, they’d be surrounding the house and moving in by now.

Thank goodness for amateurs.

His gaze bounced back to Julia. He couldn’t help being impressed with the way she held it together. He’d rushed her, touched her and forced his way inside her house. Acted in a way that he begged to be punched. He’d watched the fear come over her, and before he could calm her, she’d controlled it. Taken the energy pinging around inside her and focused.

It was sexy as hell. So was the long wavy brown hair and then there were those big chocolate-brown eyes. Not that he had the time to notice...but he did.

He reeled those thoughts in because he had no plans to die today. He’d just made a vow to Julia, so now he had to figure out a way out of this mess without too much bloodshed. He’d brought the firefight to her door by accident. Even if it meant taking a bullet, he’d get her out.

She peeked around the windowsill, then ducked her head again. “Why are they just standing out there?”

“Good question.” Cam kept his focus on the men. If he flinched they could move out of his sight, and he could not let that happen. Three of them, one dressed as the police chief and two in flannel shirts, which made them stand out in summer.

“I have another question,” she said.

This time he glanced over at her. Seeing the pale face and the way her hand shook as she brushed the hair out of her eyes sent a shot of guilt through him. Still, he wasn’t used to a lot of conversation in the middle of a shoot-out. “Now might not be the best time.”

She checked the weapon before looking up again. “Why did you think they were police?”

Looked as though she talked when she got nervous. He tried to contain the adrenaline coursing through him enough to keep up the harsh whispering. “The uniform, plus the other two were at the police station. The chief knew I was coming. The usual.”

She frowned. “That’s the usual for you?”

“Uh, yeah.” It all made sense to him, but in hindsight he’d played it too safe in the minutes leading up to his meeting. He could have checked identities through facial recognition, but that wasn’t standard operating procedure for a job like this. It was supposed to be an easy witness pickup, not a death match.

Her attention did not waver. It stayed locked on him. “Who are you and what do you do?”

They absolutely didn’t have time for that discussion. “Later.”

And really, there was no easy way to tell her he worked for an undercover operation hired out to corporations and governments to handle kidnapping and threat situations. It was the kind of line that sounded like nonsense during a pickup in a bar. In real life it meant he lived in a web of secrets, lies and death. Not exactly the kind of information that was going to put her at ease right now.

“I don’t think so.” Her tone suggested she might turn that gun on him at any moment. “How about now or I’ll go out there with them?”

“You think you’ll be safe with a guy pretending to be police?” She’d already proven she was smart and quick on her feet. He didn’t doubt she’d reason this through and agree...at least, he hoped so.

“Probably not,” she mumbled.

“Then maybe we can take care of the attackers before exchanging personal info?” Seemed logical to him. He was about to point that out when the banging started again.

His hand went to her head. He pushed her toward the floor with his body covering hers. Glass shattered and rained over them. Edges clipped the back of his hands, but his long-sleeved shirt protected the rest. Drywall kicked up and a lamp exploded to his left.

The rapid volley gave way to another sharp silence. His head shot up and he took another look. The men outside still hadn’t moved. Other than holding weapons at the ready and the glass shower, nothing had changed. When he looked down, Julia was already moving.

She visibly swallowed as she sat up. “Okay, we’ll talk later.”

He liked her style. “Exactly.”

“Now what?”

“That was a warning shot.” If they wanted to do real damage, to shoot their way inside, they would have. For some reason they stalled out there, and Cam couldn’t figure out why.

He’d deal with that later. Now he needed an exit strategy, and the options appeared pretty limited. Running out the back door might work if she hadn’t been wearing a bright red shirt. That would stick out with her streaking through the woods. Which led to the other issue—she lived in the middle of nowhere.

This part of Calapan consisted of lush greenery, dirt roads and little else. Her cabin sat with the water on one side and towering trees on the other three. That made running for help problematic. So shooting their way out won as the best scenario. And that was not good news.

“What exactly did you do to them?” The hand with the gun fell on her lap as some of the color seeped back into her cheeks.

Anger and blame—good. He could handle those. “My job.”

“Could you be more specific?” The demand for information was right there in her tone and the flat line of her mouth.

He ignored both. “No.” When she started to talk again he put a finger to his mouth. “Do not move.”

“Where would I go?”

He decided to wait until later to explain hand gestures and go over the definition of the word quiet. Making sure he was dealing with three men and not more trumped everything. He could take them down one by one, but only if another line didn’t loom behind this one.

Crouched and keeping out of sight, he shifted with quick movements around the cottage. Checked the side yards and the one in back where he’d found her a few minutes ago. It took about a minute thanks to the size of her place.

By the time he made it back to the window with Julia, he knew they were in serious trouble. “They’re getting smarter.”

She shifted her weight and sat up with her knees tucked under her. “Meaning?”

“They’re spreading out.” They’d finally mobilized. There was no reason to do that unless an attack came next. Cam still didn’t know what was happening on this island, but it wasn’t good. “They’ll likely come in firing.”

With her palms on the hardwood floor, she leaned forward. “You brought these guys to my door. Take them away.”

If only it were that simple. But he did have a plan, and it involved taking her out of the cross fire. “Is there an attic?”

She made a face. “What?”

“Julia, I need you to focus.” She could be angry and frustrated later. Now he needed her with him, because when the quiet broke this time he sensed it wouldn’t stop until bodies littered the floor. “An attic?”

She shook her head. “There’s only a crawl space.”

He’d make that work. “We need to get you in it.”

“Where will you be?”

He liked that she didn’t balk or question what he wanted her to do. “You go up and I’ll cover the downstairs.”

“One against three?” She sounded appalled at the idea.

“I’ve beaten worse odds.”

“Cal—”

“Cam.” His temper flared unexpectedly. For some reason her not remembering his name dug at him, but he pushed the feelings aside. “Do you really know how to shoot?”

He’d handed her a gun, which was a risk. Now he needed to make sure she wouldn’t shoot him in the head by accident.

“Of course,” she said.

“Anyone but me comes near you, you shoot.” He heard a noise. Faint but there. The attackers were closing in. No question about it. “That attic space?”

“Right.” She crawled on her hands and knees until she cleared the sight line from the window, and he followed.

Smart woman with skills. She became more intriguing by the second.

They got to the short hall leading to the bedroom and bathroom and she pointed up. No string, but there was a small handle. He rose to his feet, nice and slow, while waiting for a new round of shooting to start. When that didn’t happen, he went the rest of the way. He lifted his hand and felt nothing but air. On the second try, he jumped and his fingers brushed the handle. Grabbing it, he brought the door down.

Before she could argue, he took her by the waist and lifted. Her feet left the floor and she let out a half yelp before clamping her mouth shut again.

With only the rustling of clothing as noise, her body and then her legs disappeared into the dark hole above. A second later her face popped into the space. “Be careful.”

He shut the door before she could say anything else. Now to bury the obvious entry. After a short mental countdown, he jumped, using the wall as leverage, and grabbed the handle. The yank pressed the hard metal into his palm but didn’t come off. He only managed to knock the handle loose.

The second lunge cut his palm but did the trick. With a crack the handle fell off. He stuffed it into his pocket and hoped the shadowed hallway would do the rest to provide cover.

Then he moved. The corner at the end of the hall qualified as the perfect place. He could squat down and wait for the inevitable. Problem was, Julia sat right above. A stray bullet could ricochet and hit her, and he couldn’t let that happen. That meant moving into the open, being more vulnerable, but he’d take the chance.

The kitchen worked as an alternative. He pivoted around the edge of the small island and hunkered down by the stove. Now began the game to see who would flinch first.

These guys didn’t disappoint. One kicked in the front door and another stormed in the back. With the size of the house, they could have run right into each other if they hadn’t stopped their momentum. They whispered and traded theories on his location. Cam heard it all.

Not seeing them, he had to concentrate on the voices and the footsteps to plot their positions. He had two in the small family room and one unaccounted for. Close enough.

When one came within range of the kitchen, Cam still held his position. Not moving. The preference was to take them alive. Much easier to question a breathing man than a dead one. Then the one who acted like the sidekick almost stepped on Cam’s hand.

He sprang to his feet with an arm wrapped around the guy’s throat as he faced down the one dressed as the police chief. The one who had all the facts and who’d sat in the office, pretending to be the police chief, which raised a lot of questions.

“Put the gun down.” Cam issued the order as he backed his hostage into the family room and away from the hallway where Julia hid above.

The fake chief wore a smile that could only be described as feral. “You have been a problem.”

No kidding. That was exactly what Cam got paid to handle. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Lower the weapon and we’ll let the woman live.” One gave the orders while the other tightened his hold on Cam’s arm to keep from being choked.

They’d seen her or guessed. Either way, them knowing limited Cam’s options even further. Pretty soon he’d be down to about one.

Still, there was no reason to make it easy for them. “What woman?”

“Don’t play dumb, Mr. Roth.” That sick smile widened. “Yes, I know your real name.”

That wasn’t good at all. That wasn’t the name he’d given as cover for the witness pickup. If the guy knew who he really was, he likely knew that the Corcoran Team was on the island. The mission could be blown. The same mission that was supposed to be exploratory only and not combat.

Just what they needed—more danger.

Cam’s heel hit the back of the sofa and he stopped. “Where’s the real police chief?”

“You need to stop asking questions and listen.” The guy used a man-to-man tone, as if they were having a chat about everyday things. “You have five seconds before me and my men tear this place apart and grab the woman. Then we’ll see how fast you talk.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing that.” The third man stepped in from a room in the back.

Cam guessed he had found a window. Didn’t really matter how he got there. Problem was, the odds had just switched to three against one. Not impossible but not his favorite. It meant he’d have to kill two and take his chances with the third.

He had to stop the chief first. “One more step and I snap your man’s neck.”

“You think I care?” He brought up his gun and fired.

The shot exploded in front of Cam. He felt a jerk and then the man he was holding fell at full weight against Cam’s chest. He dropped him with a thud to the floor and came up firing. He nailed the one in the hallway in the shoulder and knocked him back. The chief dived to the side and Cam dropped down as he scrambled around the couch.

The scene moved in slow motion, but Cam knew it took only a few deafening seconds. As shots continued to ring out, he blocked the hammering of adrenaline through his body and the grunts and heavy breathing filling the room.

He turned to get off a covering shot and took a quick inventory: one dead guy on the floor and the chief missing. The wounded shooter stood in that back room and fired random shots into the family room that kept Cam ducking. He was about to take a diving shot when he saw the crawl-space door drop. Not the whole way but enough to be noticed if anyone was looking.

The creak of the hinges had the shooter looking up. It was the distraction Cam needed. The guy shifted just enough to aim his gun into the dark hole, and Cam fired. Nailed him in the head this time and sent him crashing into the wall and then sprawling to the floor.

Cam jumped to his feet and searched the family room and kitchen. The place looked like a war zone. Shot-up walls and broken glass. A shredded curtain and papers scattered everywhere. He didn’t even know where half the stuff came from.

But a clear inside didn’t mean they were safe. He checked the porch and scanned the front of the property for any signs of the fake chief fleeing into the woods but didn’t see anything, including the truck that had been out there a few minutes ago.

“Julia?” He didn’t bother whispering or covering. The men knew she was there and now all but the fake chief lay dead on her floor. “Talk to me.”

When she didn’t say anything he stalked to the end of the hall and looked up. The gun appeared first, then her face. “That was pretty awful.”

Her voice shook, but she wasn’t throwing up, so he took that as a good sign. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.”

The shaking grew stronger and he worried about shock. “Any chance you could be more definitive?”

“My legs are never going to hold me to come down again. Maybe I’ll just live up here.” She glanced down at the guy lying below her, and her eyes widened. “Did you... Is he dead?”

“Very.” And Cam didn’t want her staring at the guy. Nothing good could come out of that. He tucked his gun into his waistband and picked a position that had her looking at him and away from the still body.

But she was already glancing over his head. “You killed two?”

“One. The guy in uniform took out his own guy and got away. So much for loyalty.” Cam lifted his hands and caught her, easing her to the floor and not letting go until she found her equilibrium. “You need to grab a bag and change your clothes, or at least your shirt.”

“Why?”

“You can’t stay here.” He pointed around the room. “This is a mess and I don’t know why the guy was shooting, so I need you off Calapan.”

“Normally I’d get indignant and tell you not to order me around, but I’m okay with it this time.” She handed his gun back to him.

He slipped it into the back waistband of his pants. “I knew you were smart.”

“We need to get to the ferry.” She wiped her hands on her thighs and blew out a long breath. “We can take my truck.”

Looked as though she had more bad news in front of her. He winced. “Was it blue?”

“Was?”

Cam didn’t see a vehicle outside. Unless she had a secret hiding place, they could add another criminal charge to the fake chief’s list. “The one who got away took it.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding?”

In light of the past few minutes, the response struck him as overblown. Probably had something to do with the reaction to violence. She didn’t double over or hide in a corner, but she did latch on to odd things. He could handle that. “I’m thinking a stolen car is not the worst thing to happen to you today.”

“It’s a two-mile walk to the ferry and we only have four a day. We miss it and we’re trapped here. On this island.”

The bad news just kept coming. He pushed aside his plans to hunt the shooter down and focused on this problem. There was only one solution—call in the cavalry.

He glanced at his watch and pushed the button. The one that sent an emergency signal out to the rest of the men. “We’ll rendezvous with my team and get you to safety.”

“Alive?” She managed to load that one word with a heap of sarcasm.

He didn’t let her tone derail him. “My promise to do everything to keep you safe still stands.”

“I’m holding you to it.” She stared at him as if needing further reassurance.

He didn’t have anything other than his word, which was pretty damn solid, so he nodded. “Good.”

Chapter Three

Julia led him through the woods. The trees soared above their heads, blocking the late-afternoon sun and casting a chill over her. Light filtered through the branches and spots of sunshine highlighted parts of the rough terrain, but for the most part they had to rely on her sense of direction as a guide.

As a kid she’d used the forest area as a playground. There she could hide from her father’s alcohol-fueled rages and all the yelling. She’d breathe in the scent of the wet ground mixed with pine and be surrounded by calm, if only for a short time.

Being there now qualified as the exact opposite of calm. Her stomach tumbled and her nerves jingled, making her jump at every little sound. The chirping birds and the swishing as the wind blew the leaves around, usually soothing, just had her twitching.

Cam walked next to her, keeping their pace brisk. Every time she stumbled over roots or overturned rocks, his arm shot out and he steadied her. She appreciated the assist but really just wanted to get on a ferry and head for Seattle. Her father’s estate and the selling of the house could wait. She’d figure out the truck and how to remove dead bodies later.

She shivered at the thought. When her brain hiccuped over the destruction and seeing all that blood, she turned to the very real issue that she had to let someone in authority know. That would lead to questions she couldn’t answer and the possibility of getting in trouble.

But the police could question her in her small apartment back in her Belltown neighborhood, because she was officially done with Calapan Island. This time forever, because nothing and no one bound her there now.

The place was gorgeous but had never been anything more than a scary death trap for her. That used to be metaphorical in many ways; now it was literal. She’d had to walk over dead bodies with her backpack on her shoulders to get out of her father’s old house.

But really, right now she needed something to take her mind off all the terror and violence. Mr. Tall, Dark and Oh-So-Good-Looking beside her needed to step up and help on that score.

“Say something.” She issued the order and then went back to stepping over mounds of this and that on the ground.

He shot her a side glance before returning to his never-ending scan of the area around them. “Your shirt is bright purple.”

Not exactly what she’d had in mind, but the comment was potentially annoying and right now she’d take that over noticing his firm jaw and general hotness. “You’re critiquing my wardrobe?”

“I was hoping you’d pick something that blended in.”

A solid response, but not a request she could make happen. “Every shirt I own is a bright color.”

He looked at her again, but this time his gaze lingered. “Why?”

“Because I’m tired of blending in.” She’d spent her entire youth trying not to draw her father’s attention at the wrong time. Since he drank almost nonstop, that had turned out to be always.

But she was an adult now and refused to be defined by her father’s issues. She just wished she’d been stronger on that point and had confronted him before he fell out of his boat, hit his head and died. His death left her with a mix of guilt and regret and more than a little bit of anger over all she had lived through and the baggage she still carried around.

Cam shrugged. “I thought you picked it because you looked so good in bold colors. They suit you.”

Her sneaker slipped and she lost her footing. One wrong step and she turned her ankle as she bit back a string of profanity.

“You okay?” He faced her with both hands on her forearms.

She bit her lip. It was either that or grimace. “Yeah.”

“Julia, I need to know the truth here.” His expression went blank and his voice grew serious. “I can always carry you, if needed.”

“That is not going to happen.” She balanced her body against his, digging her fingernails into his arms as she shook out the sore ankle.

“You sure?”

“It’s just a twinge.” One that made her vision blink out for a second and her head spin.

When she moved her foot to the right, pain screamed through her. She’d done this a million times. Years ago she’d stopped running because of weak ankles. Well, that and because of her absolute hatred of running. But she knew the pain would ease if she stayed off it for a few hours and iced it down. She sensed neither was an option.

“By your own calculations we have about a mile and a half left to go.” He looked up. “Daylight will fade and the ferry schedule will get in our way.”

“Can we flag down a car?” A risky thought with gunmen racing around, she knew, but it was an option. Cam with all his superhero skills might be able to tell a legitimate driver from an undercover gunman. At least she hoped so.

He stared at her in that way a man did when he thought a woman had lost her mind. “In a tree?”

For a second she forgot he didn’t know the area. Despite the could-charm-any-woman dimple and cute face, he fit in here. Had an outdoorsy look to him, and his clothes blended in. Certainly better than she did.

“There’s a dirt road for emergency vehicle use only. The wildlife enforcement guys and police travel it.” As soon as she said that last part, an alarm bell rang in her head.

“I’m not exactly looking for a run-in with more police or people pretending to be police.” His fingers squeezed around her arms, then eased again. “But if the path is clearer you’ll have an easier time, so we can try it.”

Last thing she wanted to do was drag the danger out. Sooner or later the ankle had to go numb anyway. “I can keep going.”

One of his eyebrows lifted. “Your choice is the emergency road or I throw you over my shoulder.”

The shoulders, the face, the general hotness—she liked it all. The bossiness? Not so much. “You need to work on your negotiation skills.”

“Why? I just won, didn’t I?” He guided her to an overturned log and helped her sit down.

Before she could say anything or think of a comeback, he dropped to one knee with his hands up her pants leg. Warm hands slid along her calf, then down to the top of her short socks. With a gentle touch he rotated her ankle one way, then the other.

The whole thing left her breathless. She didn’t even scream when the sharp shock of pain radiated up her leg. For a guy who could turn and shoot without blinking, he could soothe by the simple touch of skin to skin.

She swore her vision blurred a little as she watched him, but somehow she found her voice again. “You could leave me here and go get the FBI.”

“Tempting.” He shot her a smile that could melt butter.

“We can’t take the shoe off or it will swell.” She was just babbling now.

“I know.” He stood up and held out a hand toward her. “Come on.”

She struggled to stand and almost called a halt to the whole project until he put her arm around his neck. The move let her fall into his side with him shouldering most of her weight and not putting any but the barest bit on the toes of her hurt foot.

“Better?” he asked.

This close she could smell him. A mix of wind and woods. Very compelling and weird, since smelling guys was not really her thing. She worked in an office and answered phones. She dated, but not much since breaking up with the accountant who had waffled between boring her and scaring her as he drank scotch after scotch after dinner each night.

She managed to nod. Not that Cam waited for her to be healed or even ready. He had them moving again, this time at a slower pace, but not by much. They wound around piles of rock and across fallen branches.

With each step, the end of his gun dug deeper into her side. She didn’t complain, because he was almost carrying her, all while watching the area and stopping every few minutes to check for something only he could hear.

When they reached the dirt road about ten minutes later, she slumped even harder against him in relief. “Here it is.”

“This?”

She couldn’t really fault the disbelief in his voice. She looked first down one side, then the other. The path was overgrown in parts. In others she could see the faint outline of tire tracks. But mostly they looked at mud and stones. Pretty big stones.

But she couldn’t come up with another option. All the roads, some better than others, required a hike. Some of them serious hikes, complete with rappelling. She could barely walk. Jumping up and down mountains was out.

“It’s the best I could do on short notice,” she joked even though there was nothing amusing about their current situation.

He stared at her for a second as if trying to figure out her mood, then nodded. “This should be a bit more stable for you.”

She didn’t see how, but now wasn’t really the time to argue. “Sure.”

She moved away from him and put some weight on the sore ankle. It felt all twingey and only a few steps from shattering, but she tried to trick her mind into thinking it was no big deal. “I’m fine.”

“That’s convincing.” He reached out and this time it looked as if he planned to carry her. “Come on.”

The rumbling broke her concentration. The grinding of an engine and thumping and thudding as the wheels covered the trail. She’d never been so grateful to hear a vehicle. “A car is coming.”

He stood stock-still. “No.”

“What?”

“Truck.” He wrapped his fingers around her elbow and pulled, half dragging her back into the cover of the overgrown trees.

Her feet slipped and the aching turned to a harsh pounding in her foot. But that was nothing compared to the knocking in her chest. Her lungs seemed to want outside her chest.

Pebbles skidded under her sneakers as she tried to gain traction. “How can you tell?”

“Different sound.” He slipped an arm around her waist and lifted. “Come on.”

Her body took flight and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to keep from falling. She wanted to scream and argue, but that engine noise and the ambling of the truck drew closer.

They’d gone about ten feet in when Cam turned and dropped. His knees buckled and they went down. She landed on top of him in a bone-crushing thud. His landing had to be harder against the rough ground, but she didn’t have time to think about it because the world started spinning.

He flipped her until she lay underneath him, covered head to toe by firm, muscular male. She looked up and followed his gaze. They lay sprawled behind two stacked logs. Peeking through the sliver of space between them, she could see the tires and a flash of blue.

It was her truck or one that looked very similar. Her fury at being robbed mixed with the very real horror of being found out here. She’d heard the threats the men made about her to Cam. They didn’t need to use the exact words for her to know being caught by those guys was not an option. She’d go out shooting instead.

The truck door opened and black shoes came into view. The leg bottoms of the police uniform. Footsteps echoed on the dirt path as the guy walked from one side of the car to the other. When he bent down to touch something on the ground, her breath caught in her throat. Not a single cell moved within her body.

Cam also froze. His eyes darted as he watched the movements, but even his hands stayed still. He had a gun in one and she had no idea when he had brought that back out again after checking her ankle.

What felt like hours passed. Finally, the guy stood up again. She still refused to breathe. Her fingers tightened on Cam’s shirt, balling wads of material within her tight fists.

She heard keys jingle. Probably her keys. And whistling.

The jerk.

When the guy got back into the truck and the engine revved, she finally let the air rush out of her lungs. Her head fell back against the cool ground and she inhaled the scent of peat moss. Getting her heart to stop racing seemed impossible.

It took another few seconds for the tension across Cam’s shoulders to ease. Still, he didn’t move. His head lowered and he looked down at her with his mouth hovering over hers. “You okay?”

She shook her head because that was all she could get out.

Chalk it up to the adrenaline or the moment or that face, but she gave in and did something totally unlike her. Her hands smoothed up his chest to his cheeks, and then she brought his mouth even closer. When he didn’t bridge the gap between them, she did.

Her lips touched his and at first he didn’t react. Didn’t make a sound or do anything. Then his fingers slipped into her hair and held her still as he deepened the kiss. The touch hit her with a jolt of mind-blowing fever. He kissed her long and hard until that dizziness came roaring back.

When he lifted his head again, she could barely hold her neck up. Her hands dropped to the ground beside her head. “Wow.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

But she had to be smart. “The kiss was a onetime thing.”

“That’s a shame.” The corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile. “What was it for?”

“Not letting me die.” Seemed simple enough to her.

Some man pretending to be a police officer was looking for them, and Cam hadn’t hesitated. He’d tucked her body under his and kept her safe. He’d already killed a man rather than let him touch her. She didn’t know how to thank him for those things or how to deal with the confusion rattling her, since he was the one who’d brought the danger to her doorstep in the first place.

“Now what?” She felt as if she kept asking that, but it still seemed relevant.

He brushed her hair away from her face. “We find my team.”

“Are they like you?” She tried to imagine a whole group of hot undercover guys with guns, and her mind couldn’t process it.

He frowned at her. “You don’t get to pick another team member to stay with you.”

“I didn’t say—”

“You’re stuck with me.”

“You don’t want to pass me off?” She really hoped he’d say no.

“You do talk a lot.” His thumb rubbed over her temple.

Much more touching and she’d forget they were outside and in danger and return to the kissing that felt so good. “You don’t like talking?”

“Strangely enough, I’m starting to.”

Chapter Four

She looked like death by the time they got within a quarter mile of the ferry landing. Cam called in the team to have them rendezvous at a new position because he doubted Julia could make it much farther.

Not that she complained. No, she never made a sound except for a grunt here and there. But when they started down the grassy hill behind them, he heard her sharp intake of breath and called a halt. No way could she take the slope from here to the water, and she all but punched him when he mentioned again the idea of carrying her.

He liked her spunk and the well of energy she kept finding. Most men he knew would have dropped at the sight of two dead guys on their family room floor. She’d hung in there.

But she needed rest, which was why they sat at a picnic table behind a grocery market with her sore ankle resting on the bench next to him. The employees likely used the space for breaks, but right now he claimed it.

From this position he could use his binoculars to scan the marina. Sailboat masts bobbled and a cool wind blew off the water. People lined up on the dock. A group of men talked with each person as he or she stepped into line for the ferry.

Cam didn’t know what that was about, but the lack of uniforms and the fact that no one had performed those checks when he landed a few hours ago suggested it wasn’t legitimate. More likely this group was part of the one that had shot up Julia’s house.

He scanned the faces he could make out and body types for anyone who looked like the fake police chief. That guy struck Cam as the leader. If they cut the group off at the top, the rest should wither or at least be confused enough that wiping them out would be easier.

He glanced at his watch. Before he could read the dial, she piped up. “The ferry will be leaving soon.”

“You’ll be on it.” For some reason that promise sliced through him. He felt the cut through his midsection.

Which meant he needed to get her on that boat now. She was a distraction. A long-legged, sweet-faced distraction with a butt that held him captive and a drive that enthralled him.

He’d watched as other members of the Corcoran Team paired off. Marriage, engagements, living together, serious dating. Strong men who vowed to put work first bowled over by compelling women they could not resist.

The Corcoran traveling team had made a vow, too—keep moving and stay bachelors. He had no idea how the promises broke down with the other members, but looking at Julia, watching her trace a fingertip over a crack in the tabletop as her long hair fell over her shoulder, he felt an odd tug. One he planned to ignore, and that started with a no-more-kissing rule.

“Do you plan to roll me down the hill?” she asked as the finger tracing morphed into drumming.

He almost laughed at that. “Might be faster than carrying you.”

She looked up long enough to glare at him. “No to both.”

“You need to get away from the island.” Cam was starting to think everyone should leave, because no one would be safe until his team figured out the random pieces of what was going on and put them together in a way that made sense.

“Will that matter?” Her shoulders fell. “If these men know who I am, they can track me down.”

He hated that truth but liked that she kept thinking it through, thinking about the angles. That caution would keep her safe. “You’ll stay in a hotel and use cash.”

“For how long?”

He wanted to tell her a day or two, but that could be a lie, and he refused to get her hopes up. “However long it takes to make sure you’re okay.”

She glanced off to the side. Stared at the trash cans without talking for almost a minute. “It’s not my house.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, that wasn’t it. “What?”

“The house was my father’s.” She drummed those fingers against the table again.

The steady rhythm started a ticking in the nerve in the back of his neck. He reached over and put a hand over hers. “Okay, back up. Where is your dad?”

“Dead.” She delivered the information in a flat voice.

He wasn’t sure what to say or how to read her mood, so he went with the obvious response. “I’m sorry.”

This was not his area of expertise. His birth mother had lost custody before he hit kindergarten. She’d held on just long enough to make him too old and unadoptable, according to state officials. He’d spent the rest of his youth passed around from one foster home to another until he aged out of the system and turned to the military for a more permanent home.

“I was cleaning the house out for sale, though I’m thinking that might not be happening now.” She sighed as she opened her hand and let his fingers fall between hers. “My point is, anyone who looks up the deed will trace my father to me, and me to Seattle.”

He was still trying to process the news and what it meant in terms of keeping her safe. “You don’t live on Calapan.”

“Not since I was smart enough to run away at eighteen and not look back.”

“Very smart,” a familiar male voice called out from around the corner of the market just before he came into view. “I hate this place.”

Shane Baker. The Corcoran traveling team member who was the most likely to make a joke to get through a tough situation.

Julia snatched back her hand and spun around. Looked ready to jump to her feet, which was the last thing Cam wanted her to do with that ankle.

Shane and Holt Kingston, the head of the traveling team, stepped into view. Cam hated to admit they’d gotten the jump on him. Hated more the idea they might have seen the whole hand-holding thing.

“Whoa there.” Cam put a reassuring hand on her arm. “They’re with me.”

She sat down hard on the bench again and glanced at him. “Huh, you really all do look like that.”

He had no idea what she was talking about. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Cam decided to keep the focus on the problem instead of whatever might be running through her head, though he did wonder. “Holt Kingston and Shane Baker, this is Julia White.”

Holt shook her hand, then moved in beside her on the bench. “Your hostage.”

That was the last thing Cam needed to hear. If they thought he’d messed up, they’d never let him forget it. “It wasn’t like that.”

She looked at Holt. “It sort of was.”

Shane joined the group at the table. He sat across from Julia and looked her over with a frown on his face. “You okay?”

“She sprained her ankle.” He’d also scared the crap out of her and killed a man in front of her, which had to have her mind blinking, but the team knew that from his check-in, so Cam didn’t repeat it now.

This time she aimed her sigh at Cam. “She twisted her ankle and she can speak.”

Shane barked out a laugh. “I like her.”

“She’s a talker.” Cam figured they might as well get that out of the way because Holt operated on the say-as-few-words-as-possible theory.

Shane’s smile faded. “Oh.”

With that done, Cam turned back to the case. “What do we have?”

“No identification on the deceased. Connor and Joel are working on it from the photos and fingerprints we sent.”

She put a palm on the table. “Who are they?”

Something about the way she held her hand out had them all quieting down. Cam had never seen anything like it. The team members tended to talk over each other when it came to handling assignments. Connor and to a lesser extent Holt and Davis, the leader of the Annapolis home team, could demand the floor with absolute certainty.

Before Cam could give a personnel rundown, Holt jumped in. “Connor runs the Corcoran Team. It’s his baby. Joel is our tech guy. Both are back in the Annapolis main office.”

She held up one finger. “Okay, one more question—”

Shane whistled. “I see what you mean about the talking.”

“—who or what is the Corcoran Team?” She ended the comment by glaring at Shane.

There was a long-winded answer about undercover, off-the-books work. Cam went with the easier response. “We are.”

“That doesn’t really clear anything up.” Her last word cut off before she looked at Holt. “And did you say you checked the deceased? I’m guessing that means you went back to the house, though I have no idea why you’d want to see that scene.”

Holt nodded. “Yes.”

“Have we figured out why these guys tracked Cam and kept shooting at him?” she asked as she leaned in.

“Not yet.”

Cam could have listened to her rapid-fire questions and Holt barely answering all day. It summed up their respective personalities. But he knew from experience Holt’s patience would expire, and that was reason alone to end this.

“We came here to talk to a witness who reported some concerns. Raised some questions about illegal drug running on Calapan,” Cam explained, trying to keep the intel as neutral as possible.

“Who?” she asked.

Shane shook his head. “I don’t think—”

“Rudy Bleesher.” Cam ignored the stunned stares from his teammates. He was surprised he’d shared that information, too, but nothing made sense on this job. They’d come here for an interview and ended up in a shoot-out. Not the usual assignment. “She’s from here. We aren’t.”

She snorted. “If it’s about drugs, Rudy will know.”

Holt’s eyebrows lifted. “Because?”

“We went to school together, and the guy knew all about drug dealing.”

Finally a piece of the puzzle that fit for Cam. If Rudy had started out using and maybe dealing and now wanted to turn in evidence to cut a deal or get out of trouble or whatever, that made sense. And they were talking about drugs in serious amounts.

Cam had been with the team for three years and had never gone after a run-of-the-mill drug user. But word was the operation on Calapan was serious business and served as a source for moving drugs up and down the coast and into Canada, which made it Corcoran business.

“You’re sure this is the same guy?” Shane asked.

She started drumming those fingers again. “The island is thirty square miles, and most of that is wooded and uninhabited. Yeah, I know Rudy.”

“We need to talk with Rudy and get Julia off the island.” Holt glanced down at her hand but kept talking. “The ferry isn’t an option until we clear these guys out, which means we need to find the real police chief.”

“You know about him?” she asked.

“They were there when I got shot at.” Cam thought that part had been obvious but he guessed not. “They were watching when everything fell apart.”

Julia flattened her hand against the table. “Which time?”

“The first, the time that led me to you, but you make a good point.” Back then Cam had called the scramble code and they’d scattered. At that point he’d still thought they could grab Rudy and be gone without trouble. Talk about a miscalculation.

Holt looked through the binoculars and Shane rechecked maps on his watch. Cam waited. He could tell something ran through her head. Maybe it was the way she gnawed on her bottom lip.

The quiet stretched on for a few more beats before she exhaled. “I can take you to Rudy’s house.”

“No way.” Shane clicked on the GPS function on his watch. “Give us the address.”

“You’ll never find it,” she said in almost an I-told-you-so offensive strike.

Cam sided with Shane on this one. “We’re pretty good at this.”

He wanted Julia long gone and far away when they tracked down Rudy. The man wasn’t where he was supposed to be this morning, and all hell had broken loose because of that.

“Fine.” She shrugged. “Go to the fourth turn past the group of willows by the water where all the kids went skinny-dipping in high school.”

Shane stared at her. “Maybe a street name?”

“There isn’t one, to my knowledge. Rudy lives in a shack.” She sent Cam that I-told-you-so grin she’d all but promised. “Getting mail is the least of his concerns.”

“You win.” Holt slapped a hand against the table and got up. He pointed at Cam. “You take Julia and look for Rudy. Shane and I will find the chief or at least clear the ferry area of suspects.”

She shifted to look up at Holt, who now towered over her. “How?”

He smiled for the first time since he had sat down. “We can be persuasive.”

“But first.” Cam eyed Holt.

“What?” She glanced around, looking more confused by the second.

“Right. Sorry.” Holt bent over and picked up a bag. He took out a bandage, then an ice pack. “Cam is going to set your ankle.”

Her gaze flipped to Cam. “You know how to do that, too?”

The woman needed to have some faith. “My skills are endless.”

* * *

RAY MINER STOOD in the ferry’s ticket-buying area, just inside the building, so he could get a good look at anyone approaching the marina. But he was looking for one person in particular—Cameron Roth. The guy was supposed to be some superstar pilot who was good with a gun.

Ray had some skills of his own and was pretty sure he’d impressed the guy by shooting the man he was holding from right under his arm. But now he was down two men and Ray didn’t like that at all. Cameron would pay for that.

Two more of his men returned from their search of the ferry decks after the most recent unloading. “There’s nothing and no one left on board, but the waiting passengers are getting antsy.”

“Tell them there’s a delay and to come back for the next one.” When his men stared at each other but neither moved, Ray saw the positives in eliminating a few of his guys without Cameron’s help.

Ned, the bigger of the two and the one who usually did the talking, cleared his throat. “They’re starting to have questions.”

As if Ray cared. “We have the captain tied up and the rest of the crew believing I had to come in from Seattle and commandeer the boat because of the transfer of illegal goods in one of the cars. Have the crew inform the passengers that there is a search ongoing at the moment.”

“What if someone calls the real police chief?” Ned asked.

“He’s busy running around the island right now, and we have control of the phones.” Besides, Ray liked this cover. He could get used to wearing the uniform. It went with the gun. “My bigger concerns are Cameron Roth and Julia White, the woman with him.”

Now Ray knew her name. Knew the boss wanted her tracked down and brought to him. Apparently Ms. White didn’t live on the island and wasn’t supposed to be there. She was the type who liked to stick her nose where it didn’t belong. She’d learn the hard way what a bad idea that was.

“They can’t get far. We have the marina in lockdown and they’re about to run out of ferry service. There’s only one more after this.” The one who wasn’t Ned delivered the information.

Ray didn’t remember his man’s name, because it didn’t matter. The guy’s job was to not mess up as he followed orders. “What about a boat on another part of the island?”

Ned pointed to the boats docked around them. “Possible, but they didn’t come in with a boat, so that should lead them back here if they want to find one. We also have a few guys watching the water and checking private boats.”

“Do we have the okay to shoot?” the other one asked.

The guy suddenly became more interesting. Ray liked where his head was in this. “Not the woman. The boss wants her brought in and this Corcoran Team guy taken out.”

Ned’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

Ned shrugged. “I’m just saying it would be easier to kill them both. Set up some sort of lovers’ argument gone wrong.”

Ray agreed, but he didn’t have the final say. Not in this. He took care of logistics and security for the business. He was the reason they’d been tipped off about Roth showing up in the first place. A guy like that, with his reputation and background, made enemies, and when a DC business associate heard Roth was headed for Calapan, he’d passed the word on. Ray had taken it from there.

But whether he liked this Roth guy or not didn’t matter. Ray knew the guy was dangerous.

“Don’t underestimate them. This guy Cameron took down two of our men.” Really only one but Ray guessed it would be bad for morale if he told them how expendable they were.

Ned stared at Ray. “Roth couldn’t get to you.”

Ray would not let that happen. He would win that battle every time. “Not me.”

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