“I’m worried about Lou Ellen,” Caleb announced, as the team drove toward Tent City.

“Why are you worried about her? She stayed at the office,” Griff asked, looking at him.

Leaving her there had been for the best. He said his goodbyes, without saying goodbye, so he could disappear with a clear conscience, if they were lucky today. She was more than safe, even alone, at the company fortress in the country on the outskirts of Dallas.

“Because leaving her behind was too easy,” he replied. “She’s got something up her sleeve and that worries the shit out of me.”

“You’re right,” Levi chimed in.

Dave looked back at them in the rearview. “There’s nothing to worry about. She knows she wouldn’t have been of use coming with us today and would only have been in the way. If nothing else, she’s reasonable and that’s why she’s hanging back with Dex.”

“Reasonable?” Slade repeated with a snort. “Are we talking about our pistol-packing office manager who helped Gray take out the mob?”

Griff tensed as icy fear froze his blood. “She did what?!?” he shrieked, his stomach knotting.

“Long story, but Grayson, our accountant, got involved with some bad hombres while he was in Washington setting up the new operation. She was with him and she wasn’t a bystander.”

“What about when she saved those women at the trafficked women’s shelter?” Slade asked, shaking his head. “God, I love that woman.”

As quick and unexpected as it was, Griff loved her too.

He loved her spunk, her sass, and her class. She was stubborn, strong, sexy and independent. A woman a lot like his deceased wife, someone who he thought he could never replace. She didn’t replace Glynna in his heart, but she covered the gaping wound his wife’s death left there and bored her own place beside it. Even though he didn’t want her there.

Lou Ellen Wells was the whole package wrapped in a golden bow, but Griff wouldn’t accept that gift. She was too special, and he wasn’t man enough to give her the life she deserved. The dark shadows would always be chasing him as long as he stood in her bright sunshine.

He would leave that bow tied tight for some other lucky bastard. He just hoped that man would realize what a precious gift she was. If Layla was included in that box, the man would grab the brass ring, and he better hold onto it with both hands.

While the other men continued to laugh about her other exploits, Griff remained silent, learning more about her, soaking it in and committing it to memory. These men respected her, protected her and loved her. She would be fine without him. Layla would be fine without him, because he trusted the woman who they held in such high esteem would take care of her.

Before he knew it, Logan pulled the SUV into a parking lot within sight of the overpass he called home just as the sun came up.

“Let’s do this thing. Layla Smith, fifteen, five-feet-four, bi-racial, long, curly black hair and green eyes. That right, Griff?” Slade asked, as he opened his door.

“Yeah, and she has a mole on her left cheek by her nose. Like a beauty mark kind of thing, and several cigarette-type burns on her right forearm.” The anger that always came when he noticed those resurfaced with a vengeance.

“Dex and Mac gave me more intel right before we left. I think I know within a three block radius where their stronghold is.” Logan opened his door, then leaned back inside the truck to grab his body armor. He shrugged out of his shirt and put it over his t-shirt. “We probably should do recon and plan a snatch and grab tonight, but this is not somewhere I want any of us to be after dark. If a former Recon Marine is afraid, you should be too. Let’s get this done and get the hell out of here.”

Griff and the rest of the men in the backseat filed out and walked to the back of the SUV where Slade handed out body armor and weapons. After they were all suited up, and redressed so no one knew they were protected, Logan unfurled a map on the hood of the SUV.

“Caleb and Levi, you take this block. Slade and I will take this block, and Griff is with us. Try to blend in and talk to the locals.”

“I don’t have enough tats for that, or enough firepower most likely,” Caleb said with a snort. “Can’t we just take a mission in Afghanistan or something?”

Levi elbowed him in the side and he grunted as he glared at him. “Don’t be a pussy, dude. I’ve dealt with worse down on the bayou when I was a teenager. These assholes are wannabes.”

“Just because you grew up in the swamp and wrestled gators for fun, doesn’t make you a badass, Cajun Boy. This is serious shit. These assholes don’t use guns, they use machetes. There’s five of us and hundreds of them. If you get cocky, I’m not carrying your stupid ass back out.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Levi said. “But I’m not going in with you, if you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Caleb growled. “Kill shots are my specialty, not close combat. Why don’t you sit on a roof and try it sometime? Let’s see how badass you are, then.”

“Did you bring your rifle?” Logan asked, his eyes snapping to Caleb.

“It’s like American Express—I don’t leave home without it,” Caleb replied with a grin.

“Good, then Griff can go with me and Slade can take Lola and go with Levi. Caleb, you set up somewhere central to give cover fire if we need it.” Dave looked back at the map and studied it hard. “Find a sniper hide somewhere in this area where you can watch 360. If anyone gets into trouble, run to this square block.” He refolded the map and turned to lean on the truck and fold his arms. “Let’s get our com equipment on and test it, then get moving.”

They split up and Griff walked with Logan toward their assigned quadrant, the pistol under his arm feeling all too familiar. He hadn’t fired a weapon in almost six years, or even taken target practice. Expert marksmen, government assassins, lived at the range and practiced live shot scenarios to stay sharp.

He hoped like hell if it came down to brass tacks, he would still have the skills to have Logan’s six. The thing he prayed for most, though, was that those brass tacks stayed in the box where they belonged and this would go down quietly.