Logan wasn’t about to let him do that. No matter who he’d been before, he was Henry Flanders now. Henry was the guy who’d fixed his ma’s sink and helped work on their roof when it needed fixing. He was the man who winked as he protested and always had candy in his pockets for the kids around town. He was Henry. “They would just kill them quickly and then take you. I was never planning on trading you in, Henry. I just need someone to watch my back. I have to save them, Henry. I’ll die if they do.”
Not until after he’d brutally murdered an entire drug cartel, but then he’d just lie down and fade away until he could be with them again.
Henry’s hand tightened around the knife, and he edged up to the side of the cabin, his face turning slightly away. “The guard they put on the back door is half asleep. I’m going around the back, like I’m walking up the river. You got a knife? Because that gun is going to be too loud. The minute they hear gunfire, they’ll take off. We need them in the house.”
Logan reached down into his boot. Of course he had a knife. It was utilitarian, but it would get the job done. Quiet. He had to keep quiet.
Henry took off, his bare feet moving silently across the grass. He went the opposite direction from the house, around a set of trees, but in mere seconds, Logan saw him walking down the river.
And so did the guard who hopped off the porch and started walking toward the intruder.
Logan took off the minute the guard’s back was turned. Henry was right. This guy was pure muscle, not trained to keep quiet and move in for the kill. He would just shoot whatever came his way. Logan silently thanked Mel for all the training. He might not be trying to take down an alien horde, but the idea was the same. He could hear Mel talking in his head. Move quick. Move silently. Take down the prey without alerting the rest of the herd.
Save your town, son.
Save his family.
He’d never done this up close and personal before, but there was a time for everything. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t feel any fear beyond what would happen if he didn’t get this done. The guard raised his gun to take Henry down, and Logan quietly shoved his knife between the man’s ribs, his free hand knocking the gun away and then covering his victim’s mouth so he couldn’t shout out.
It was hard, but he was strong. A knife didn’t just slip in, it required force and movement. It required upper body strength. The man in his arms was a bull, all sinewy muscle. Logan had to force the knife past his ribs and up, into his heart. A year ago he’d never lifted a weight, didn’t think to train.
It was his own torture that brought about the change, but now he knew if it hadn’t happened, he would have been helpless to stop this. His past pain just might be Georgia and Seth’s salvation, and suddenly he was grateful. Grateful for the time he’d spent on that desk. Grateful for the lesson it had taught him. Grateful that he was alive in this moment to save them.
He held the guy close, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He didn’t feel remorse. This man would have killed Georgia, and he would have raped her, too. He would have taken everything that was beautiful and lovely and precious about her and ground it into dust. Logan had already decided to give up law enforcement, but he would never give this up. This was his job in life. To protect them. To love them. To do anything he had to do to ensure their survival.
Henry was suddenly in front of him. “He’s gone. You can let him go now.”
Logan let the man slide away as Henry picked up his gun and checked the clip. For a man who hadn’t used firearms in years, he still knew his way around one.
“Are you ready? This is your op, Logan. I’ll do what you need me to,” Henry said.
“I’m going to slip into the master bedroom window. Georgia left it open earlier. You go in the back door. Kill anyone you see. Use the knife if you can until we’re in the living room. Once we know we have them trapped, all bets are off.” He wouldn’t care how much noise he made once he knew they couldn’t get away with Georgia and Seth. He looked down expecting his hands to be shaking, but they were stone-cold steady. It was just his heart that was shaking. He gave Henry what he hoped was a confident grin. “Hey, Henry, I won’t tell your wife if you won’t tell my moms.”
Henry put a hand on his shoulder. “Deal.”
Logan jogged around the back of the cabin, his whole being set on doing his job. On getting them back.
Chapter Seventeen
Georgia winced as the man in the suit slapped Seth full across the face. A stream of blood began to flow, racing down Seth’s blue and white button-down, but when his eyes came up, there wasn’t pain in them. He swayed a little on his feet, but it was obvious that Seth was angry.
“Is that the best you can do?”
The man who had taken her prisoner gave him a reptilian smile. “Oh, Mr. Stark, I assure you, I can do so much better. My men are simply playing around right now. Amarralo, por favor. I think it’s time we had a chat.”
Seth’s eyes found hers as he was pulled into one of the dining room chairs and bound by the chest to it. Two of the boss man’s goons had already zip tied his hands, and now they wound a thin rope around his torso. She could see where it cut into his skin.
Her own hands had been left undone. She’d been very careful to be pleasant since she’d gotten in the SUV. All the long trip from town to here she’d wondered if her brother was dead. She couldn’t stand to think of Win’s big body cooling in a parking lot while life went on around him. Tears seeped from her eyes.
“Hey, gorgeous. Don’t cry.” The man with the gun reached up and casually wiped a tear off her face. “You’re very beautiful when you cry, but I haven’t given you anything to cry about. Not yet.”
She shivered, her every nerve in pain at the thought of his hands on her. She didn’t want anyone except Seth and Logan. Not for the rest of her life. She knew who she loved and anyone else was profane. The love she felt for them was sacred.
“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Despite the fact that he was tied up and bleeding, Seth growled the words. He struggled against his bonds, the chair moving back and forth.
“My name is…well, you can call me Kent. I work for a very particular business.” Kent straightened his tie as though he couldn’t stand the thought of being unkempt. “I guess you could say I’m the American manager for my firm. It’s a family-run business, and they’d prefer to stay in their country. I handle issues that tend to come up for my boss back in Bolivia. I suppose you could say I’m the public relations and the security guy all rolled into one. You understand business, don’t you, Stark?”
Seth’s eyes were clear as he spoke, though she could still see the blood on his chin. She wanted nothing more than to walk over there and wipe his face off and kiss every place where he surely ached. He took such good care of her. Standing idly by seemed wrong, but it was her only play now. “I understand that a man like you will do anything for money. I happen to have my checkbook handy. Unfortunately, I can’t write one out because you seem to have tied down my hands.”
Kent walked around him, making a tsk tsk sound, like a disappointed mother. “Oh, Mr. Stark, you underestimate me. I’m a company man, if you know what I mean. Once in, you’re in for life. That life can be an amazing one, or it can be very short and tragic. I personally enjoy the perks of being employed by one of the largest drug cartels in the world, and I also enjoy my head being on my body. So I do my job.”
“What exactly is your job today, Kent?” Seth was cool as a cucumber. He sounded like he was just in a Friday afternoon meeting with his management staff.