“Clear,” Logan said into the lapel of his coat when they reached the end of the third block they’d checked. “Are you sure she’s here, Griff?” he asked with a puff of breath.

“I’m sure she’s with a gangbanger,” he replied. “I cleared the other two territories in the area. By process of elimination, I’m as sure as I can—” he said, but stopped when his eyes snagged on a guy who pulled a girl back inside a building. A girl that looked a lot like Layla.

“What?” Dave asked, frowning as he squinted to look in that direction.

“I think I just saw her,” he whispered, giving a chin nod toward the warehouse that looked to be abandoned from the graffiti-strewn plywood over the windows. “She was coming out of that building with a guy, but he jerked her back inside when he saw us.”

“We are at the end of block three in our area and have visual,” Dave grated, as he put his mouth to his lapel. “Find us. We’ll wait.”

Griff heard footsteps behind him and knew it was too soon for Levi and Slade to have found them. So much for quiet, he thought, as he reached inside his coat for his pistol just as something hit him flat across the back and he went flying forward.

As soon as he landed, he rolled in case the guy was going to take another whack at him. He lunged to his feet and saw two thugs circling Logan, one with a cane knife in his hand. He released the pistol grip, because he couldn’t take the chance of accidentally shooting Logan. Instead, he dove for the thug with the knife and tackled him.

They rolled and the tango ended up straddling his stomach. His flat, black eyes narrowed as he raised the machete with purpose. Griff grabbed his t-shirt and he looked surprised when he flipped over Griff’s head. Turning over, he jumped on the banger before the guy recovered and pounded his fists into his face until he stopped moving. He looked down the street and saw two more coming toward them, one with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.

“Fuck,” he grumbled as he stood and reached for his pistol, but saw Levi and Slade running down the block.

“Lola, sic!” Slade growled and Lola lunged from behind him to charge down the sidewalk with teeth bared.

Seeing her fly through the air and tackle the thug with the bat was a beautiful thing. Him landing and getting right back up to take a swing at her was not. With a ferocious snarl, she lunged and buried her teeth in his thigh. He squealed and dropped the bat to pull at her collar, but Slade took a flying swing and landed a blow that rocked his head on his shoulders. The thug fell like a tree and Lola got in his face to snarl like a demon dog from hell.

Loud, thumping music Griff felt in his chest bounced off of the dilapidated buildings as a black, big-rimmed SUV turned onto the block. He glanced at the building where he thought he’d seen Layla and took off running. The guy he’d seen drag Layla inside leaned into the door opening to fire a bullet with his name on it.

Griff dove to the pavement, the bullet ricocheting off the street near his thigh. He rolled and came up with his pistol in his hand and aimed at the opening. When the guy reappeared, his arm was around Layla’s neck, and the end of his gun—Griff’s gun—at her temple.

“Griff, just go,” she yelled, her voice trembling. “Please just get out of here!”

Taking aim, Griff held his hands steady to keep his bead on the thug’s head. If he moved, Griff was going to put a bullet in his skull. Instead, he ducked back into the building, dragging Layla with him. She screamed and Griff was on his feet, running a zigzag toward the building. He heard boots behind him and hoped like hell it was the others. Breathing hard, he put his back to the bricks outside the doorway, and was relieved to see it was the team.

Layla screamed and it echoed inside the building and in Griff’s skull. His stomach clenched as he took a deep breath then quickly swung inside the opening and out. Layla was on the floor by a set of metal stairs about forty yards away and the thug stood over her with the gun. Too far to be accurate with the forty-five he’d been given. He looked at Slade, who also leaned on the wall beside him, and pointed toward the end of the building then nodded.

He nodded then motioned to Levi, and they jogged that way with Lola. Logan peeled off from the opposite side of the doorway to head toward the other end of the building. Loud, thumping music drew his eyes to the end of the block again just as another big-rimmed, blacked-out Suburban rounded the corner.

It was now or never. The big guns had evidently arrived to help.

With a growl, Griff ran into the building and hid behind a huge crate that was ten feet from the doorway. A bullet pinged off of the metal beam above his head and he flinched. He looked to the left and saw another crate about twenty feet away. He dashed across the distance and a bullet whizzed by his head just before he ducked behind it. You have six bullets left in that nine, he thought. Another bullet clipped the corner of the crate sending wood shavings raining down on him. Five.

The music got louder and Griff knew that meant the thug cavalry was almost there. Crouching, he looked for his next hiding place. His muscles bunched as he started to dart out again, but he stopped when he heard a Spanish F-Bomb over the music, which seemed to be stationary outside of the building now. Leaning around the crate, he smiled when he saw Slade standing over the thug, glaring down at him. Levi stood at the top of the stairs with his pistol trained on him.

Layla screamed again and took off running toward the doorway and Logan suddenly appeared. “Tangos, twelve-o’clock!” he shouted, as he dove and tackled her to the ground. He covered her body with his just as two thugs appeared in the doorway and opened fire with automatic rifles.

Slade dove behind a crate and Levi took cover upstairs. Griff scrambled back to the second crate, then the first. He aimed his pistol at the first thug’s head and pulled the trigger. When the second guy swung his rifle toward Griff, he put a round in his forehead.

Yeah, you’ve still got it. He stood, swung his weapon outside the doorway but didn’t see anyone outside. Running over to Logan, he helped Layla up. When he pulled her toward the door, she put on the brakes, and jerked her arm away.

“No—I can’t leave! They’ll kill Jayden!” she said, folding her arms over her waist. Her lower lip trembled. “They’ll probably kill him anyway, now. Why did you have to come here?”

Griff walked up to her and tipped her quivering chin up to stare into her eyes. “I came here because I was afraid for you. Whether you believe it or not, I care about you.”

“Well, I care about my brother and if you care about me, you’ll just leave,” she said.

“Not happening, Shorty. Where’s your brother?” he asked.

“On a run for them,” she replied, a tremor rocking her.

“A drug run?” Griff asked, an icy chill zipping down his spine.

“What other kind of run is there?” she asked with an eye roll. “He got hooked up with them when he ran away to look for me and now he can’t get out. I’m not leaving without him.”

“When will he be back?” Griff asked, glancing at the door again.

“Not until tonight. It was on the far north side. I don’t know where.”

“Then we’ll come back for him tonight,” Logan said, moving up beside Griff. “But right now, we’re getting the hell out of here and you are coming with us.”