The burning and dull throb from the gunshot in Brogan’s right arm increased as he tied a strip of his shirt around the wound to stop the bleeding.  But it was nothing compared to the pain squeezing his chest.

They took her.

Held at bay by a barrage of bullets, he was forced to seek cover in the trees across the driveway and return fire while the bastards knocked Kat out and carried her unconscious body into his woodshop.

An image of the photo of the dead woman sprang to mind. His blood turned to ice and bile raced up his throat. He had to get her out of there.

If they hurt her, he was going to kill them.

This was all his damn fault. If he hadn’t been distracted, this wouldn’t have happened. And he wouldn’t have been distracted if he hadn’t crossed the line and gotten personal with Kat.

Deep down, he knew that wasn’t true. He’d formed a connection with her years ago, back in his commander’s office.

But he had gotten personal recently, and distracted at the thought of her out in the open. An easy target. Like him. He’d let his guard down. Too worried about her getting hurt. And it’d happened anyway.

Some damn bodyguard he was.

That was just it. He hadn’t been thinking like a bodyguard. If he had, none of this would’ve happened. He’d been thinking like a man. A man worried about the woman he cared about. He should’ve let her help. Should’ve planned on it, gotten used to the idea. Then it wouldn’t have been such a knee-jerk reaction to the contrary.

None of that mattered now. What mattered was rescuing Kat.

She’d been at their mercy too long.

Hank should be there any minute, provided he hadn’t encountered any trouble along the way.

Several bullets pinged in the dirt in front of the tree he used for cover. He needed to take out the men shooting at him from across his ranch. He estimated ten, and didn’t know why they didn’t charge his position. It was as if they were toying with him, trying to keep him there. He glanced down at his bare wrist, wishing he’d had eyes on the place. Damn monitor had cracked and fallen off when his truck had exploded. Kat’s had bit the dust, too.

He’d have to do this old-school.

On a good day, with a high vantage point…ten wasn’t a problem.

Today was not a good day.

The crack of a twig had him swinging around to aim a gun to his left.

“Sonic, don’t shoot, it’s Swede and Hank.” His buddy scrambled behind a nearby tree, frowning at the mess in his yard. “Damn, it looks like a war zone.”

Hell, yeah. Tension eased its grip on his shoulders. Now there were three of them.

Another bullet hit his tree, splintering the bark into the air.

Hank crouched low behind Swede, gun in hand, and took out the shooter, then tossed Brogan a headset. “SITREP.”

“They have Kat.” He kept his voice low and steady, despite the pulse pounding heavy in his ears and chest. “They knocked her out and carried her into my shop, five minutes ago.” He motioned toward the building with his gun. “There’s ten tangos standing in my way. But now that the two of you are here, that’s about to change. Especially since the only one who’d noticed your arrival is now dead.”

He nodded toward the man Hank had just taken out.

“And the helicopter?” Swede frowned at the wreck blazing nearby. “You drop that with your Glock?”

Brogan shook his head, his chest tightening. “Kat shot the pilot with my rifle, and it crashed.”

“Damn.” A grin spread across Swede’s face. “Well, the commander did tell us she was good.”

It was a hell of a shot. But, Kat shouldn’t have been up on the damn roof. He couldn’t protect her up there. He’d been too worried out of his damn mind about her visibility and the missile aimed at her location that he failed to notice the tangos moving in.

“I’ll stay here and draw their fire,” Hank said. “You two take them out quietly, but leave the guards outside of the woodshop. We don’t want to alert the men inside of our presence.”

Donning the headset, Brogan pressed it to his ear. “I’ll go east.”

“Then I’ll go west.” Swede motioned with his hand.

“Normally, I’d remind you we’re in the U.S. and to only use necessary force,” Hank said. “But with Crawford and Knight involved, we don’t have to worry about accountability. So take out the tangos quickly and quietly, and let’s get Kat.”

Brogan didn’t give a rat’s ass about rules right now. He would use whatever force was necessary to remove the obstacles standing between him and Kat. But since he didn’t want to alert the bastards holding her captive, he holstered his guns and drew a knife.

With that thought in mind, he waited for Hank to provide cover, then hid behind the debris littering his ranch as he moved closer to his first two targets.

“Why are we cowering back here?” A man with a scar on his cheek recoiled as one of Hank’s bullets whizzed past. He cursed and returned fire. “We should rush the fucking rancher and end this shit now.”

Good. He’d been right. The tangos didn’t know about Hank and Swede.

“We were hired to secure the girl and wait for Janvier. So keep the guy occupied and don’t question your orders,” the second tango snarled, before heading west toward Swede’s position.

As soon as scar man was alone, Brogan attacked from behind, covering the man’s mouth with one hand while slicing his throat with the knife in his other hand.

One-by-one, he evened the odds as he cleared the way to his shop, knowing, without seeing, that Swede was doing the same from the west.

Satisfied he hadn’t missed any of his targets, he picked up the rifle Kat had dropped, then hunkered down behind a piece of smoldering barn and pressed the headset by his ear. “East cleared.”

“West cleared.” Swede’s voice came over the com.

“Roger that.” Hank’s voice chimed in. “Rendezvous behind the house.”

In under sixty seconds, the three of them were crouched low near the back corner of his house.

“Heard from Crawford,” Hank said. “ETA fifteen minutes.”

Swede nodded as he continued to scan the surroundings outside of his woodshop. “Three guards.”

From scar man’s conversation, he’d gotten the sense these men were hired hands, and not part of Hector’s organization. Those bastards were on the way.

It gave Brogan a little solace. Although they were trained killers, the men here now weren’t the monsters who’d brutalized the woman in the photo.

Brogan’s gut knotted tight. He needed to get Kat out of there before they arrived.

Using the scope on his rifle, he peered through the window of his shop, hoping for a glimpse of Kat, and praying she was unharmed. Relief washed through him when he spotted her sitting on a stool, with her back to his work bench.

“Got eyes on Kat,” he said. Shit. He stiffened. “Her hands are bound behind her, but she seems to be okay.” He added that last part more for his benefit. Saying it out loud helped calm the rage brewing inside him.

If they hurt her…if they tried anything, he’d rip them apart.

***

The pounding in Kat’s head had subsided to a dull roar a few minutes ago, but sitting there listening to the three yahoos holding her captive was increasing the thuds.

She needed to get out of there. Needed to check on Brogan. He’d been shot, and she couldn’t…wouldn’t let her mind even consider that he was dead.

He was a SEAL.

DEVGRU.

Elite.

He wasn’t going to die in his driveway from a bullet that should never have found him. A bullet that had hit him because of her. Because she hadn’t listened to him. She had to jump into action to help.

And what the hell good had it done?

Got her captured and him…shot.

She grit her teeth and fought the wave of despair crashing through her tight chest. It was her fault. But there would be time for blame later. Right now, she had to go to him.

Wiggling her hands behind her back, she felt for the knife she’d stowed behind her waistband, and smiled inwardly when her fingers closed around the grip.

The idiots who’d captured her hadn’t checked her for weapons.

“What are you going to do with your money, Dirk?” the biggest guy asked.

Dirk?

Good to know. From the looks of him, his beard held a bigger IQ than his brain. As quiet as possible, she slipped the knife from its sheath and sawed through the zip tie binding her wrists.

“Shut up.” The asshole who’d claimed to have coldcocked her snarled at his cohort.

She followed his movements, waiting for her opportunity, when she spotted a familiar pair of hazel eyes staring at her through the window.

Brogan!

Kat nearly cried out in relief. A wave of joy rushed through her chest, and her eyes and throat burned with the need to release it. She swallowed and blinked until it cleared and she was no longer in danger of giving away his location. He was okay. In fact, he was better than okay. He had a gun in his hand and he motioned for her to check the other windows. Hank and Swede nodded to her from outside.

“We aren’t getting paid to talk,” asshole claimed.

“Yeah, Hector wanted the girl,” idiot number two stated. “We’re delivering the girl.”

Those two had loose lips.

Maybe they knew more than they realized. She gave Brogan a small shake of her head when he motioned for her to hit the floor. “Who’s Hector?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” The burly dude grinned.

“He gave us the hands-off speech, which is too bad, because you’re definitely worth putting hands on.” Number two stepped close and ran a finger down her arm, making her skin crawl.

She gripped the knife behind her back, itching to plant it in his ear.

“Enough, you two,” asshole, the man in charge, growled. “We were told hands off. That includes fingers, too. I won’t let you jeopardize our opportunity for more jobs from this boss over a piece of ass.”

“Yeah.” Burly dude nodded. “Hector has connections. Everyone thought his brother was the big man.”

Alarm skittered down her spin. This was news her uncle needed to know. She met Brogan’s gaze to convey that thought. He gave a small nod.

She cocked her head, switching tactics. “I thought his brother’s network was gone.”

“You thought wrong, bitch,” number two muttered, and the asshole boss actually laughed.

Burly waved his gun back and forth and rocked back on his booted heels. “Yeah. Hector’s making a big name for himself and we’re going to help him expand his guns and drugs in the U.S.”

“Shut up!” Asshole punched burly square in the jaw, then turned a cold gaze on her. “You too, you stupid bitch.” He reached for her hair, but she lunged out of the way while swinging her knife around to lodge in his side.

His wild yell echoed through the shop, but stopped suddenly when a bullet greeted his head. He bounced off the table and onto the floor. Then two more shots rang out, and idiots one and two were dead before they hit the floor.

“Kat?” Brogan burst through the door, and she rushed to his opened arms. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” he asked, drawing back to look her over.

“I’m fine. But you were shot.”

“It’s just a flesh wound.” He cupped her face and kissed her hard on the lips. Then her forehead and head as she held him close.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve let you help,” he countered. “What you did on that roof, and in here was amazing.”

Amazing?

She lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t really do too much.”

“Yes, you did,” Hank said, standing inside the door. “I’ve already contacted your uncle with the information you extracted.”

Swede stood next to him, grinning as he folded his arms across his chest. “Reminded me of one of my favorite comic book heroines.”

“I don’t know if I was more worried or turned on,” Brogan said, tightening his hold on her hip.

Hope pierced her heart. Maybe he won’t be like the other men she’d dated. Maybe he would support her profession.

He stiffened. “Two helos approaching from the west. Fast.”