Kamon answered the knock at the door and nearly got run over as Jayla jumped into Hound’s arms the minute he walked into the room.

“Hey, baby,” Hound said before Jayla cut off his oxygen supply with a kiss.

He hoped someday he’d get a reaction like that out of Malia, and a smile twitched on his lips.

Kamon shook hands with the rest of his teammates as they piled in, Brawn, Digger, and team-lead, Steel. Jinx gave him a hearty half-hug and a slap on the back as he brought up the rear of the parade of men.

“Thanks for the nice digs, man,” Kamon said, fist-bumping Jinx. “Did you pull some kind of magic out of your ass to get all this?”

“Don’t ask. Don’t tell.” He put a finger to his lips in a hush. “Was hoping you could use it to impress your woman, but guess we gotta go save her first,” he said with a wink, then pressed a hand to his forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Kamon asked.

“Just felt real woozy for a second. Must be jet lag.” Jinx looked at his hands, flipping them back and forth as if he were studying them.

Kamon tilted his head, and for a split second it looked like Jinx vanished. Kamon blinked and focused back on his buddy, who appeared almost fuzzy before coming back into focus.

“Dude, if you’ve got jet lag, then what just happened to me.” Kamon put a hand to his own head and looked back at Jinx who appeared normal again.

Jinx’s face paled as he pulled Kamon into the kitchen out of earshot of the others. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for a second it looked like you vanished. Then I blinked and you were there, but really fuzzy. Like I did a hit of acid or I need my eyes checked pronto.” Kamon rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger.

Jinx took a visible swallow and nodded. “Must have been something you ate.” He slapped Kamon on the shoulder and forced a laugh.

They made their way back to the seating area in the other room only to find Jayla still lip-locked with Hound.

“Can we get down to business? We’ve got a life to save,” Kamon said, clearing his throat.

Jayla slid down Hound’s body and smoothed out her dress. “Sorry, I haven’t seen my man in weeks.”

A blush hit Hound’s cheeks and he dipped his head as the rest of the guys razzed him.

“Okay, enough with the reunion, we’ve got work to do,” Steel said, rolling out a map of the casino onto the table. “Okay, Tex said that Yaza has a fortress under the casino, here.” He pointed to the location on the map. “Jinx, I need you to set charges, here, here, and here. Brawn can help you.”

Jinx nodded. “You got it. Time to make things go boom. Best part of my day.”

“Shadow, Hound, and I will go in in civvies on the Casino floor and do recon. It’ll be heavily guarded with men, but Tex tapped us into the casino security feed, so we can see the changing of the guard and any uncovered exit points.” Steel flipped open a tablet and showed them a live-stream of the feed.

“Digger, I have a special job for you. You may not like it, but you’re my golden boy and a woman’s life depends on it.” Steel stared Digger down.

Digger arched a blond eye-brow. “What do you have in mind?”

Steel chuckled. “Apparently the concierge prefers a little meat in his sandwich, ya know what I mean? A beans and franks kind of meal. He is the keeper of the key to Yaza’s office. I want you to flirt him up and get a hold of that key. I don’t care what you do or how you do it, but we need in that office. The drug shipping info, buyers, all the money in the kingdom is in that room. Got it?”

Digger’s bright-blue eyes twinkled before he pursed his lips and cleared his throat. “You want me to chat-up a dude?”

Steel smirked. “I want you to do whatever you have to to get us in that room. I know you have women falling at your feet with your Hollywood face, I imagine you can pull it off with a guy for this mission.”

A smile ghosted Digger’s lips as he folded his arms. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

Kamon would thoroughly enjoy watching the infamous ladies’ man have to flirt with a dude for a mission. He watched Digger’s face as his smile widened, as if he were thinking long and hard about something. Kamon quirked a brow in suspicion, but Steel’s voice pulled him back to the task at hand.

“Brawn, I need you to hulk-smash your way behind Jinx once he blows up the fortress and gets you inside. It’s gonna be CQB, up-close and personal. Take out as many as you can, we’ll be right behind you to help clean up the mess once we get out of Yaza’s office. Got it?” Steel asked.

Brawn and Jinx nodded.

“Hound and Jayla, you’re with me, we’ll case the casino floor, wait for Digger’s signal and get the girl. She’ll most likely be attached to Yaza’s side.” Steel looked into Kamon’s eyes. “Shadow, you’ll be with us. I need my sniper to have a clear head going in. I know you like this girl, and we’re not going home without her, but if you have a shot at Yaza, you need to take it. Understood?”

Kamon swallowed hard with a nod knowing full well that meant he might have to also shoot Malia in the event things went FUBAR for everyone involved. He knew Yaza would probably use her as a shield. He’d seen it many times before and had to shoot an innocent to save a thousand more lives. “Understood.”

He just prayed that in the event he had to pull a kill-shot, there’d be a differentiating height difference between Malia and Yaza that would save her life but end his.

* * *

Malia’s eyes shot open at the sound of her dress being ripped off her body. She clutched her hand around the wrist of the intruder and twisted it, ripping a yelp from the man’s throat as she launched herself from the bed and slammed the palm of her hand against his windpipe before pinning him against the wall.

“Don’t fucking touch me, you pig,” she yelled right in his ear.

The cold barrel of a gun pressed against the skin of her exposed back. “Let him go.”

“You do realize that if you shoot me, you’ll shoot your buddy here, right?” She turned her head slightly to see over her shoulder.

He grunted. Apparently brains didn’t run in large supply when it came to henchmen. Lackeys were always bottom-of-the-barrel types. Those who could, became powerful men. Those who couldn’t, became the hired help.

The man shuffled to the side and aimed the gun at her temple instead. “Move, bitch.”

Malia shoved the man in front of her harder against the wall before she let go, raised her hands and took a step back, hitting the bed behind her as she plunked down on it. She glanced around. They must have taken her to one of the rooms in the casino when she blacked out.

“Mr. Yaza said to put this on.” The grunty one tossed a tight sequined dress at her while the other one ran to the bathroom, coughing up blood.

“Is he taking me to dinner?” Malia asked with a laugh. “Or am I one of the new showgirls?” She looked at the outfit in disgust. He had horrible taste in clothing.

“None of your business. You just do what he says. Get dressed.” He stood with his gun extended.

“Will you at least turn around?” Malia batted her lashes.

He shook his head. “Not falling for that one.”

“Your mother didn’t teach you any manners?”

“Yaza killed my mother.” His deadpanned voice said he either didn’t care or he repressed the thought so deep he refused to let it affect him.

“And yet you work for him?” Malia’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“I wasn’t given a choice. If I didn’t, he’d kill my father as well. You do what you have to. Just fucking get dressed. This isn’t fucking story-time.” He tightened his grip on the gun. Malia noticed the sweat beading on his brow and the twitch on his upper lip.

“I’m truly sorry to hear that,” she whispered.

Yes, she knew that motto well. You do what you have to in order to survive. You do what you have to in order to keep your family safe. You do what you have to in order to rid the world of evil people like Yaza. That’s just what she planned to do, and this man fueled her fire more. Even if she wasn’t successful, she wasn’t going down without a fight.

She shifted out of what was left of her ripped dress and into the ridiculous blue and gold sequined number that looked like it was left over from a disco, circa 1976. Turning her back to the man, she glanced seductively over her shoulder as she pulled her long black hair to the side. “Can you at least zip me up?”

He let out another grunt as he tried to zip it up with one hand, but was unable to get it to close. He tucked the gun in his pants and grabbed the zipper with one hand and held the dress with the other. Malia took the opportunity and stomped on his foot with her stiletto and launched her elbow into his gut at the same time, doubling him over. As he leaned forward, she slammed both elbows into the wedge of his shoulder blades. He collapsed to the floor in a heap. She grabbed his gun and darted to the door only to find it blocked on the other side by two more men. Where does one find so many minions?

They each grabbed her by an arm and dragged her down the hall to the elevators.

“Where are you taking me?” Malia shouted.

“Mr. Yaza requires your audience,” one of them said, shoving her into the back of the elevator.

Malia didn’t like asking for help, but she really wished she had backup. With her phone gone, she had no way to get word to Jayla. She really hadn’t intended this to be a suicide mission, but so far her only options seemed to include her going down with the ship because Yaza was never alone. In order to put a bullet in his brain, she’d have to take one in hers.

Her thoughts drifted to Kamon and regret bubbled up in her chest at leaving him alone in the cave. He probably hated her guts and cursed her name out. He’d be the last one to storm in and save her now. Not that she really wanted him to, because then he’d get killed right along with her. She knew in her heart the best thing she did was run. At least he’d live to see another day.

They would have made beautiful babies together.

She snapped her head up at the thought. Where the hell did that come from? Even if she did somehow get out of this alive, he’d never speak to her again after the way she treated him. And she couldn’t tell him the truth that she was an undercover CIA agent. Every scenario in her head told her it was a bad idea to even think they could make something work. Yet her heart refused to let go of him and his profession to her in that cave that he wanted to at least try.

Her parents would have liked him, a lot. Her heart sunk at the thought that she wouldn’t have her dad around to walk her down the aisle. Sure, her adoptive parents in California were still alive and she did love them with all her heart, but it wasn’t the same. While she tried to be a good daughter for them and they loved her like she was their own, she missed a blood connection, the cultural heritage, her real mom and dad.

A thought occurred to her, one that hadn’t in a very long time. Funny what pops into a person’s head in the last fleeting moments of their lives. Her parents used to take her to see a woman every year when she was little, still living in Thailand. Aunt Achara her parents called her. Malia wondered if she would even remember her. If she got out of this mess, she’d have to look to see if she could find her while she was still here in Thailand. She may even have more family here somewhere, but any time Malia searched, she came up with roadblocks and unanswered questions. Her adoptive family didn’t know much and Malia had been only five, with little memories. Would have been nice to have some kind of connection with her only known blood relative, if she was even still alive.

Malia vowed in that moment to not give up. Her parents faced Yaza down bravely, so would she. And she was going to make sure her outcome would not be the same as theirs. She would fight, fight for all those families torn apart by his hand, even those of his henchmen, forced into servitude out of fear for their family’s safety. Malia would fight to have a chance to win Kamon back and explain she only ran because she wanted to keep him safe. She wouldn’t be the scared five-year-old girl who turned and ran after her parents were killed. She would never run again, but stand her ground and protect what she loved. She would fight for the chance at a future with Kamon, because deep in her heart she knew he would fight just as hard for her.

The elevator doors dinged open and the burly thugs pushed her out onto the casino floor. Each of their meaty hands curled around her upper arms just about dragging her through the crowd of people in their own little world sucked in by the sounds of the machines raining coins, dealers shuffling cards, pit bosses yelling, winners screaming, and the music in the background fighting to be heard above all of it.

Not a single person even paid attention to her being forced to march to her death. The few glances she did garner were of disgust, not concern. They probably assumed Malia had gotten caught cheating at one of the tables and was being escorted to security.

She dipped her head low, searching for the fighting drive she had only moments ago in the elevator. The longer she walked, the more hopelessness pushed the spirit down.

Sucking in a deep breath, she raised her head, forcing herself to face this head-on. Her gaze landed on a dark-haired man in a black t-shirt. The wave of his hair, the build of his shoulders, the curvature of his ass … she knew that body, intimately.

Kamon.

He was here! Did he come for her? Maybe she was imagining things. Maybe she just desperately hoped so much that he would be here that she manifested it into a hallucination.

The man turned around and locked eyes with hers. His widened as he tapped the bald, darker-skinned man next to him and whispered. It was Kamon, all right. That face. Those lips. That strong, protective body. She ached for him. Even the part of her soul that she didn’t think needed rescuing hoped and prayed he would, just to spite her.

She had to force herself not to call out to him. If she drew attention to Kamon, he’d be captured right along with her. Instead, she lowered her head and prayed the thugs didn’t see them make eye contact.

“Excuse me, sirs, could you possibly help me?” a woman called out behind her.

“Find someone else, we’re busy,” one of the thugs said over his shoulder.

“That’s rude. I’m planning on speaking to your boss. Does he know what kind of asshole employees he has working for him? I spend a lot of money here, I demand respect!” the woman shouted, garnering attention to them.

They tightened their grip on Malia’s arms as they jerked to a stop, turning to face the woman. Malia choked on a gasp as she looked at Jayla flailing her arms at the guys, pretending to be an angry customer. What the hell was she planning on doing, getting captured with her?

Malia widened her stare and tilted her head, trying to tell her to get the hell away from her.

“Listen, lady, take it up with the service desk. I told you, we’re busy,” the uglier one growled. His pock-marked face and furrowed brow did little to scare Jayla off.

Somewhere, she lost Kamon in the crowd and her heart sunk.

“I’m not budging ‘til I speak with your supervisor.” Jayla stomped a heavy Doc Marten boot against the tile like a petulant child. She was definitely trying to stall or get them to take her.

One of the thugs let go of Malia’s arm and grabbed onto Jayla’s, tugging her right behind her. “Fine, you’re coming with us.”

Malia glanced over her shoulder with a what the hell look. Jayla only looked around the room as she whistled with a smile. She apparently lived for this kind of shit. Malia thought she did, too. Funny how priorities change when love takes over and softens a hardened heart. She still wanted Yaza taken down and to pay for what he’d done to so many people, especially her parents. But she wanted Kamon more, and the fact that he was there, in the casino somewhere said he may just want her as much, too.