“There are other ways to right wrongs, and death is too good for Rogan.”
Chapter One
WEDNESDAY
OUTSIDE MONTERREY, MEXICO
Siobhan Walsh Rogan watched as her new husband and his team helped the six terrified girls into the old Hummer.
Even before he took her hand to help her into the vehicle, she could read his mind.
“No,” she said. She jumped back down and stared into Kane’s brilliant blue eyes and knew her instincts were right. “No,” she said, more emphatic. “Do not go after him.”
She ignored the gnats flying around her head, the distant sound of a lone rifle, the curses of the man restrained in the doorway of the house Kane and his men had raided.
He didn’t say anything. He stared at her, face blank. Almost blank. Was he actually smiling?
“See, you can’t even argue with me!”
“I’m not going to argue with you, Red. Get in the truck.”
“No.”
His gaze narrowed just a fraction, but it added three levels of mean to his expression.
“It’s an order.”
“Don’t even.”
He pulled her away from the truck, away from his team and the girls, all of whom were watching them far too closely.
“I will find him; I will stop him.”
“It’s not worth it.”
“Was it worth it to rescue Hestia nine years ago?”
“This is not the same thing. We have the girls! We’re getting them to safety. Just like we did with Hestia.”
“Blair escapes, more girls are at risk. You know it, I know it. Dyson and Lucky will take you to the convent. Ranger’s with me. I know what I’m doing, Siobhan.”
He looked like the cold, hardened mercenary he’d been when she first met him. The mercenary she had loved and hated. The hero she wanted and feared for.
She couldn’t stop him. She knew that. She wanted to—because she had never loved like this before. But she loved Kane Rogan because of who he was, and this was who he was. He hadn’t wanted her to come because the rescue was dangerous, but he also recognized that her unique skill set working with young victims would be instrumental in making the extraction easier than it might have been with only four armed men. He trusted her when she knew it was difficult for him to put her in danger.
She had to trust him.
This was who Kane was. She didn’t want to change him. She couldn’t if she tried.
She didn’t want to lose him.
Yet another reason why she loved him so much.
“Don’t get killed, Kane Rogan. I will never forgive you.”
He kissed her. So hard it almost hurt, then he touched her face, and she saw the love in his expression, the love he had a hard time showing. “I love you. Go.”
She went to the truck. Dyson handed her a gun, nodded to Lucky that they were ready. “Eyes open, Red,” he said.
Ranger had already made sure the girls were both secured and unarmed. He squeezed Siobhan’s hand and said, “I’ll protect him.”
She nodded, even though she wanted to scream that this was too dangerous, foolhardy. Human traffickers were a dime a dozen, and even though Peter Blair was one of the worst out there—an ex-patriot who would do anything for money—they could find him another way.
They didn’t have to follow Blair into territory he knew better than they did, when he was surrounded by people loyal to him, willing to kill for him.
It’s too dangerous, Kane. Change your mind.
Lucky turned the ignition and drove away, down the mountain. The last thing she saw was Ranger following Kane back to the house that had once held these victims. Four dead men littered the ground; the fifth was injured and trussed up by the door. Kane dragged him inside the house; Ranger followed and closed the door.
Peter Blair had gotten away, an evil man Siobhan had been tracking for even longer than Kane. Yet, though she’d seen the brutal handiwork of Blair and his men time and time again, she didn’t want to know how Kane and Ranger would find out where he went.
Lucky sped off toward the setting sun and Siobhan prayed for Kane’s safety.
I love you, too.
Chapter Two
FRIDAY
SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS
Three years ago if Sean Rogan had seen two police cars and an unmarked sedan in front of his house, he would have driven by until he knew exactly what was going on. But now, his first thought was fear.
Lucy.
He immediately dismissed the thought that Lucy had been injured in the line of duty. Someone from the FBI