Drew

There was no way in hell Drew was waiting until tomorrow to rescue Leah. That little lie had only been to buy some time and make Law feel like he was in control. In reality, Drew and Lexie had kicked it into high gear. He'd pulled rank for the last time in Catfish Creek and the sheriff's office SWAT was on its way. By the time Isaac and Tamara got to his house, it would be go time.

He set down his night scope next to the rest of the weapons he'd gathered. The surface of his kitchen table was invisible under the armory spread out on it. Overkill? Hopefully, but he wasn't going to chance Leah's safety on being short a box of bullets. The thought made bile rise in his throat. Focusing on the job had been the only thing keeping him sane since he'd gotten off the phone with Law. He—scratch that—Leah couldn't afford for him to surrender to the what-ifs and could-happens.

He glanced down at his cell sitting in the middle of the weapons. "Lexie, tell me you've found something."

"I've narrowed it down to two possibilities," the hacker's voice crackled out of his cell phone's crappy speaker.

His gut clenched. "Possibilities? I thought you were good."

"Fuck you very much, I'm amazing but I can't magic people out of thin air."

Shit.

He dialed back the anxiety again. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I'm not feeling very polite right now either," she said. "Okay, the first is one of those communal living buildings developers are pushing on the young and dumb."

Communal living? ”I don't even know what that means."

"It's like a dorm but for adults," she explained. "The unit in Catfish Creek has individual studio apartments and a few one-bedroom units with kitchenettes."

"What makes you think they're there?"

"A combination of red-light camera video showing Curtis's government-issued car at different locations nearby and security footage from an ATM across the street that showed a man and a woman fitting Curtis's and Leah's descriptions going inside."

All of that sounded like a lock. The fact that it wasn't had him pacing across his kitchen's tile floor. "I hear a but."

Lexie let out a tortured sigh, obviously as wound up as he was. "The lighting in the video sucked and the angle was worse. It could be Curtis holding up a wobbly Leah or it could be a drunk couple weaving their way home after a long night."

Fuck. Not what he wanted to hear. "Option two?"

"An extended-stay hotel a mile away from the first possibility."

"What makes it look good for this?" he asked as he grabbed the phone and carried it to the darkened living room where he could watch the street for activity without being observed.

"The location and the fact that someone is registered under an alias Law uses."

"Why isn't that a for sure?" Jesus, the woman liked to draw things out.

"Because John Smith is one of the favorite alias’ of cheating husbands too. If it is him, it's a brilliantly stupid move."

If he'd been in a more charitable mood and not on the verge of killing the asshole, Drew would have agreed.

"Isaac and Tamara there yet?" Lexie asked. "I'm showing they should be."

A set of headlights appeared on his darkened street. A second later, a nondescript car pulled into his drive. Isaac and an icy blonde got out.

"They’re here."

"Good. I'm shooting you the addresses and building layout specs of each target right now," Lexie said. "Bring her home."

As if failure was even an option.

"I'll be doing that," he said. "No matter what."

* * *

Leah

The kitchen was pitch dark, but the metallic scent of fresh blood penciled in every detail she couldn't see of Curtis's dead body only a few feet from her. This wasn't a place she ever saw herself going. If she was going to die in Catfish Creek, she'd always figured it would have been one of The Hamburger Shack greasy burgers that would do her in. The panicked giggle that escaped was muffled by the Duct tape across her mouth.

She tested the tape securing her forearm to the chair. Despite her pulling, tugging, and yanking, it hadn't budged.

There was no way Warren was going to let her or anyone else walk away tomorrow even if he got the diamond—his killing Curtis without even blinking showed just how far over the line Warren had gone. There was no coming back. And if she didn't do something, he'd take out Drew. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—let that happen. Even the thought of it made all the air disappear from the room and there was only one explanation for that, the kind you came to when you could count the rest of your life in minutes and everything else that seemed so important before slipped away.

For someone who's supposed to be a brainiac, you sure can be stupid.

She loved Drew. She'd loved him since she was six years old and as much as he'd broken her heart, all the jagged pieces were still meant for only one man and she wasn't about to let some psycho hurt him.

* * *

Drew

The deputies in the unmarked mobile command unit were four blocks down. Drew stood at the halfway point between Lexie's top two possibilities and right in the middle of Isaac Camacho's glare zone. The fuck yous had gone unspoken so far. As former military special forces, Isaac knew as well as Drew did that they didn't have time for that now. Later? They'd probably both walk away with black eyes and bruises—but just because Drew knew he deserved them didn't mean he was going to take his medicine without hitting back.

"I don't like splitting up," Isaac grumbled, shoving a hand through his shaggy brown hair.

"Too bad," Drew said. "We have two possible locations and one could simply be a decoy. We can't take that chance with Leah's life on the line."

Isaac puffed up his chest and took a step toward him. "Wonder who in the hell let that happen."

Pound for pound, inch for inch they were evenly matched. Add to that the fact that they were both pissed off at the same person and it could go explosive fast.

"It's not the time or the place," Tamara said, a harsh enough blast of frigid cold in her tone to stop Drew in his tracks.

"You're right." Drew nodded at the woman who looked every inch like the bitchy ex-beauty queen she was. "Won't happen again."

"Oh yes it will," Isaac countered. "But not until after we have my sister back."

"Then let's get to it. We're all patched into the SWAT command center." He tapped the communicator that looked like an earbud but worked for ingoing and outgoing voice traffic, not to mention the ability to go old school and talk in tapped code to communicate when talking wasn't an option. "You take the communal living place and I'll check out the extended stay hotel."

"What, no backup?" Isaac asked with a snarl.

Already amped up, Drew reached deep for the calm he needed to get through this. "I can handle it. Anyway, my extra guys are out looking for the other FBI agent, Ritter, and manning the command center so this doesn't go pear shaped. This is Catfish Creek, in case you forgot it, it's not like we've got an unending supply of deputies."

After a curt nod from Isaac, Drew continued. “Anyway, it's recon only. When we locate her, we call in the others before attempting to exfil. Are we clear?"

Isaac nodded. "Crystal."

With a nod, he took off at a jog, sticking close to the shadows toward the Metroplex Extended Stay Hotel. John Smith was staying in room four eighteen. There wasn't anyone in the rooms above, below or beside him, according to what Lexie was able to bring up—all of which made his gut twitch considering how hard it was to get a hotel room in Catfish Creek this week.

Getting through the front door of the hotel when he was in full black tactical clothing, wearing a bulletproof vest, and carrying enough firepower to take out the building got him a panicked look from the hotel clerk. He stopped long enough to show his badge and to warn the clerk to stay low and safe if trouble came her way. Then he was sprinting up four flights of stairs, his only mental image that of Leah like he'd last seen her with that smart ass smile that twisted him up inside. Picturing her any other way could fuck up his ability to get the job done.

Still breathing steady he walked through the stairwell door and out into the carpeted hallway that would muffle his steps as he approached the door for room four eighteen.

He fished out the reverse scope from his gear bag and lined it up on the door's peephole. All he saw was black. Not a solid black as if someone had taped over the peephole but some serious darkness. Willing himself not to jump the gun and pick the door lock before he knew the situation, he stared through the scope trying to pick out any variations in lighting. Just as he was about to give up and pop the door lock, a soft beam of light appeared, drawing his attention. The light silhouetted a man with a medium build but that wasn't what made his blood freeze in his veins. It was the unmistakable splatter of gray matter on the wall of a kitchenette and Leah Duct taped to a chair.

On the inhale he tapped out the target-located signal for the deputies in the mobile command unit and on the exhale the heel of his boot was slamming into the door near the lock, sending it flying open.

* * *

Leah

As soon as the light went on and the sound of Warren walking down the short hall reached Leah, a calmness settled through her. She'd worked it out already. Controlling her, grabbing the diamond, and getting away was a helluva lot harder as a one-man band then if Warren had still had his toady, Curtis. There was no way he'd take her to the exchange. More than likely he'd give some story about her being at a secondary location. Maybe she would be, she just wouldn't be there and breathing.

Despite her attempts to escape, she was still bound to the chair. There hadn't been enough time.

She raised her chin and let her face go blank. If she was going out, it wasn't going to be while begging. Instead, she'd hold on to the one thing that had gotten her this far, the realization that she hadn't ever really come back to Catfish Creek just to see the now-bedraggled cheerleaders or for the reunion at all. She'd come for Drew. And she'd gotten to be with him one last time. That was ending things on a high note.

"Oh the stench is killing me," Warren said, stopping a few feet away from Curtis's body. "I'm afraid we need to expedite our timeline."

Before she could even think of a smart remark to serve as her final words, the door flew open and crashed against the wall.

"Hands where I can see them," Drew shouted.

Dressed in all black with his face grim and his gun drawn, he looked every bit like an avenging demon bent on destruction.

"There's no reason for such viole—” Warren said, one hand up and the other sneaking around his back.

She screamed through the Duct tape covering her mouth, trying to warn him.

"Move that hand any way but skyward and I'm gonna blow your head off," Drew said, sounding every bit like a man who'd welcome the opportunity to pull the trigger.

Warren hesitated, his gaze jumping from Drew in the door to the windows and back again, then slowly raised his other hand. Drew didn't even look her way as he marched across the bloodied kitchenette and took the gun from where Warren had tucked it in his waistband.

"Down on the ground, fingers interlocked behind your head."

Warren did what he was told. Drew shoved a foot down between Warren's shoulder blades and only then did Drew glance up at her. The furious darkness in his eyes made her breath catch.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

Unable to talk or run to him, she nodded. He'd come for her. How in the hell he'd found her, she had no idea, but he had. Relief seeped through her as she looked at the man she loved, wishing like hell she could just tell him.

A heartbeat later though and it was chaos in the cramped kitchenette as deputies, paramedics, and her brother swarmed inside. Before she could say anything to Drew, Isaac herded her outside and to the waiting ambulance.

The entire time the paramedic poked, prodded and shined a light in her eyes, Leah kept an eye out for Drew, but he never appeared.

"Ma'am, we're gonna need to take you in so the docs can check you out."

She shook her head, trying her best to force the throb in her head from Curtis's knock out punch to stop. "I'll go later, I want to talk to Drew."

Isaac crossed his arms and stepped directly into her line of sight until his broad chest was all she could see. "You'll go now nicely, or I'll haul your ass there kicking and screaming."

Isaac was usually the most easy-going of the Camachos, right up until he wasn't anymore. That was probably what happened when you grew up with five strong-willed sisters and a single mom who ruled with an iron fist. Isaac bent, but he never, ever broke—and, judging by the stubborn look on his face, he wasn't giving in this time.

"Can you let him know where I'm going?" she asked.

Her brother's only response was to glare at her. She glared right back, even if it did make her head ache.

"Good Lord, you two." Tamara rolled her eyes. "I'll tell him, Leah, go on to the hospital. We'll be following right behind the ambulance."

Knowing they were right—especially when her head felt like someone had crashed two bricks on either side of it—she nodded her agreement. Isaac and the paramedic had the ambulance doors shut before she got a chance to change her mind.

* * *

Isaac

There were two things you did not fuck with when it came to Isaac Camacho. His truck and the women in his life—and definitely not in that order. He stood outside the doors of the hospital ER and waited, silent and still in the entranceway's shadows. Drew would be here sooner rather than later and he was going to have to go through Isaac to get inside. He didn't give a flying fuck if the other man was the Catfish Creek Sheriff or the President of the United States, he was going to pay the price for putting Leah in danger.

"You can't break him," Tamara said from her spot beside him. She'd been out here with him since the docs took Leah behind closed doors again to try to talk her into staying the night for observation or at least getting a CT scan.

"Why not?" he asked, already jonsing for the opportunity to dole out some big brother justice.

"He loves her."

No. He loved his sister. Drew just fucked with her head. "What makes you say that?"

"I have eyeballs, an amazing brain, and I've seen you in a similar state," she said with a grin.

Isaac turned to look his fiancée up and down. It wasn't a hardship. Tall, blonde, and so pretty it made his body ache. She also had a tart personality and a brain that moved faster than his own, two things that had transformed raw lust into solid love not that long ago.

"What state is that, darlin'?"

She grinned and shook her head. "Desperate and between a rock and a hard place."

He stiffened. "What happened with us was different."

"Really?" she asked, all false innocence and sweetness he didn't believe for a second. "You mean you didn't move heaven and earth to get to me when my crazy ass cult leader brother-in-law lost his mind, held me hostage, and tried to marry his sixteen-year-old daughter to one of his middle-aged followers?"

Acid burned its way up his gullet at the memory of the worst fucking day of his entire life. "You know I did."

"And Drew must have broken about a thousand standard operating procedures, rules and regulations to get to Leah tonight," Tamara said, snuggling in next to him.

The feel of her mouthwatering curves momentarily distracted him and he forgot for a second what they were talking about. "What are you trying to say?"

"Take your punch if you need to, but don't break him or you'll face Leah's wrath."

A flush of anger burned its way up from his toes tucked into his cowboy boots. Oh yeah. Drew Jackson. The prick who almost got his sister killed. "Her crush on him was kid stuff. She's beyond over that."

Tamara snorted her disbelief. "How did someone so clueless manage to hook a hottie like me?"

It was a question he'd wondered himself often enough that he had the perfect comeback—one that was also damn close to the truth if not the whole truth. "My big dick and all the fabulous things I can do with it."

"Yep, when you're not acting like one, that prick of yours is very nice to have around." Letting her fingers trail up his thigh as she leaned in, she brushed her lips across his in a quick kiss. A set of high-set headlights lit up the dark corner where they stood. She broke contact and looked toward the truck parking near the entrance. "Remember, be nice."

A quick, hard smack on his ass later and Tamara sashayed through the ER's automatic doors. The woman was mean as hell when she wanted to be, but she was also usually right. If he didn't love her so damned much, that fact would probably annoy the hell out of him.

Drew hustled across the parking lot and stopped in front of Isaac. "How is she?"

He debated lying just to mess with the other man's head, but decided against it when he spotted the tortured shadows in his eyes. Isaac knew that look, the one when bad shit happened because he'd fucked up, because he'd worn it himself. He couldn't jerk the guy around when he look like that. "The docs say she'll be fine but they want to do a CT scan because of the probable concussion."

"What does she say to that?" Drew rubbed his palm across the back of his neck hard enough to take off a few layers of skin.

Isaac chuckled. "Lots of colorful words our mama would not approve of."

"Sounds about right." Drew grinned, but it only lasted a second. "So is now when you try to knock me on my ass?"

It should be. But instead of hammering the dude, he remembered what Tamara said. Love? Judging by the way Drew looked, it could be. So instead of curling his hands into fists, he asked a question. "Do I have a reason to?"

"Yeah, you do." No excuses. No whining. Just regret.

"Why's that?"

Drew's whole body went stiff and fury sparked in his eyes. "She could have been killed because I failed to protect her."

"We're professionals at this," Isaac said, offering Drew an opportunity to walk away and save face. "We both know shit goes sideways sometimes."

"It shouldn't have with her," he said with an angry growl. "Never with her."

"Fuck. Tamara is right again." Isaac almost laughed out loud at the sudden confused look on Drew's face. Man, he hated to enlighten the guy—especially since it was his sister they were talking about—but someone had to and if Drew took it anywhere near as hard as Isaac had, it would hit harder than a fist ever could. "You love her."

"Tamara?" Drew asked, obviously not following along.

All the amusement drained out of Isaac's body. "Not unless you want to die slow, you moron. Leah. You're in love with Leah."

Drew didn't respond. He just stood there and glowered, his hands curled into tight fists at his side. Jesus. The man had it bad. It almost made Isaac feel bad about what had to happen next, but not enough to change plans. Balancing on the balls of his feet, he exhaled and swung his right fist at three-quarters strength connecting with Drew's cheek and sending the other man stumbling back a couple of steps.

Eyes bleeding the kind of amped-up tension that always blazed to the surface after a mission, Drew rubbed his face and shot him a dirty look. "You asshole."

Isaac shrugged, being sure to stay on guard even as his stance said nothing but good old Texas boy fun. "I've been accused of worse."

Drew launched himself at Isaac, landing an uppercut that made his teeth clang together and knocked him off balance. It was a nice shot that was gonna hurt in the morning. The other man followed through by wrapping his arms around him football style and taking him down like he was a tackling dummy at the start of two-a-days. After that it was just a series of half assed jabs and the occasional well-placed punch as they rolled on the small grassy area off to the left of the ER entrance.

"What in the hell is wrong with the both of you?" Leah's shouted question made Isaac's ears ring more than Drew's punch.

Shit. She sounded exactly like mom. The shock of it hit him so hard that he didn't dodge in time to miss Drew's final punch to his gut and all the air wheezed out of him. As he tried to get air back in his lungs, he glanced over at the ER doors where Leah stood with Tamara. Neither of them looked very impressed with either him or Drew at the moment.

"Lucky shot, dickface," he managed to get out when he could suck in a breath.

Drew didn't pay him any mind.

"Are you two done because I could really use someone who will wait with me until it's time to do the CT scan," Leah said. "The doc and Tessa talked me into it."

Thank God for Tessa Daniels, the cardiac nurse Leah had gone to high school with who'd spent her break in the ER giving his sister the what for about trying to skip out on a CT at the very least.

"I'll do it," he and Drew said at the same time, both of them scrambling up from the grass.

"Can you manage it without taking another swing at each other?" Tamara asked, arms crossed and hip jutting out.

"I'm good." Oh hell, that was definitely her don't-fuck-with-me stance. Isaac turned to Drew. "You good?"

"Yeah." Drew nodded as he used his thumb to wipe away the blood at the corner of his mouth.

Like a man with only one purpose in life, he strode over to Leah. They didn't touch. They didn't have to. It was awkward just watching them look at each other as if they were having an entire conversation and then going inside without ever saying a word.

"Was all of that really necessary?" Tamara asked when he reached her side.

"Yeah." Nothing gave away a man's intentions more than a couple of rounds in the ring—or on the grass depending on the circumstances.

"Are you satisfied that I'm right?" She hooked her arm through his as they walked toward the ER doors. "Come on, I want to hear it."

That was his Tamara. She never gave up. Ever. "You're right."

"I know that hurt to say." She brushed her lips across his already bruising cheek. "Let's get in there before Leah changes her mind about the CT."