She set her sketchpad and pencil on the porch and stretched out on the new swing Brogan had surprised her with last night.
Yesterday morning, she’d mentioned in passing a swing would be a nice addition to the porch. But she hadn’t thought any more of it. She was busy inside, finishing up a surprise she’d been working on the past few days for him—a painting of his ranch—when he called her outside to show her the swing he’d made for her.
A little wider and longer than average, the swing was another carved masterpiece. She doubted Brogan produced anything else. A carved a silhouette of horses, drinking from a familiar-looking creek graced the back.
Kat reached out and gently ran her hands over the scene, smiling at the memories of how they’d tested the integrity of the swing last night, then afterwards, they’d opened up about their exes.
By morning, she’d discovered two things. First, the swing had more integrity than Brogan’s ex-wife. The woman was worse than a bag of vomit. How the hell could she cheat on her husband, especially when he was away on missions? It didn’t compute in Kat’s brain.
And two, the sway of a swing while in the throes added to the exhilaration.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Brogan stepped onto the porch, sexy grin on his face, a pair of faded jeans hugging his lean hips, and other attributes, making her mouth water.
She stretched out on her side and patted the spot next to her, her body already tingling. “I think you know what I’m thinking.”
“Great minds.” He dropped down next to her, and tucked her into his side, kissing the top of her head. “Mmm…you smell good.”
She snuggled closer and inhaled deep. “So do you.”
He stiffened. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” He made to get up but she stopped him.
“Stay put. I love the smell of wood, remember?”
He relaxed a second later, and his chuckle rumbled through her. “Yeah, eau de oak.”
“Exactly.” She ran her hand down his torso to trace him through his jeans. “I love this wood most of all.”
“It’s certainly fond of you,” he said, thrusting his hips, his erection thickening under her hand.
He rolled her on top of him, shoved his hands in her hair and brought her mouth down on his. Pure bliss. She slowly slid her body up, then down his hard body, heat settling low in her belly.
It was in the middle of the day, in broad daylight, but Kat didn’t care. She broke the kiss and pushed up to straddle him. She needed him. Wanted him.
Now.
“I hope you didn’t have anything pressing to get back to,” she said, reaching for the button on his jeans.
He folded his arms behind his head and smiled up at her, the sexiest damn smile she’d ever seen. “Nope. I’m all yours. Do what you want with me.”
Everything inside Kat tightened and heated at once. She moaned. “You shouldn’t give me so much freedom.”
“Yes. Yes, I should.” He slid his palms over her breasts, teasing her nipples to a delicious friction.
Just as she was about to lean forward into his hands, he stilled, and sat up, alarm replacing his playful, heated gaze. “Drone,” he muttered, bringing them both to their feet. “Get upstairs and under a blanket. Now!”
Chapter Eight
Heart throbbing in her throat, Kat rushed for the door, with Brogan right on her six, covering her with his whole body. Try as she might, she couldn’t hear anything but birds and the wind. But she trusted the man and his abilities.
By the time she made it up to the security room, her adrenaline had kicked in and she wanted nothing more than to arm herself, as he was doing.
“Get under this.” He shoved a mylar blanket at her. Stay completely covered until I get back.
She wrapped the blanket around her body, but didn’t completely cover. “I can help, Brogan. Let me—”
“I know you can, but not now, Kat.” He shook his head, tugging the blanket around her. “I can handle this. You need to keep all heat covered. I have to assume they have thermal imaging.” He gave her one last imploring look, then released her to swipe a rifle and ammo off the shelf, before rushing down the stairs.
Grumbling to herself, she sat on the floor, tucking her feet inside her homemade cocoon. She knew what he’d said made sense, but dammit, she was tired of sitting on the sidelines. It was time she used her skills.
Although, she was rusty, because she forgot to grab a weapon before wrapping herself up in a big, silver package on the middle of the damn floor. She couldn’t risk shifting to the shelf, and she certainly couldn’t make a mad dash for one. Both were too risky. She’d leave a heat signature for sure.
And damn, it was hot. She’d been in there, what? Three minutes? Sweat formed on her brow. Hector didn’t have to worry about finding her. She was going to suffocate by her own stupid hands.
Swallowing a curse, she forced her body to relax, and practiced shallow breathing. Everything was quiet. No gunshots or shouting. Nothing. Brogan would be back soon. He was capable, lethal. DEVGRU. He didn’t need help.
She almost had herself convinced when she heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. One set. Had to be Brogan. Otherwise, it would mean…
Her heart rolled in her chest.
There was no otherwise. It was him. Had to be.
Right?
Why didn’t he say something?
Listening carefully, she pinpointed the location and prepared to pounce.
“Kat. You can come out,” Brogan said, and as she dropped the damn blanket, she silenced her sigh of relief.
He was all right. And she was no longer a freakin’ sitting silver duck.
She jumped to her feet, and fought the urge to run over to him and hold tight, in a need to reassure herself he was okay.
Instead, she ran her gaze over him. No signs of blood or a struggle, although he was clutching a twisted piece of white metal in his hands. He tossed it on a table near a monitor station.
“Is it safe to bring that in here?” she frowned at the damn thing that had ruined her sanctuary.
“Yeah. The rest is no longer functioning outside.” He rushed to the monitors and flicked a few buttons, changing views on the screens. “We need to leave. Helo’s a few clicks out. They’ll be here any minute. Hank is aware of the situation and on his way.” He grabbed a vest and held it open. “Put this on.”
She did as instructed, then loaded up a Glock, and shoved a sheathed knife in the back of her waistband. He handed her another gun and knife, then loaded a holster with two guns and clips before slipping it in on.
“Let’s go.” He grabbed a box of shotgun shells, and slung the shotgun over his shoulder, before leading the way down the stairs and out of the house.
They were halfway to his truck when something whizzed passed.
“Get down!” Brogan pushed her to the ground and covered her with his body as a projectile hit his truck and it exploded.
Pieces of his truck fell everywhere. A few were on fire, and one of them landed on the barn. Two seconds later, flames appeared, licking the south wall.
“The horses!” She tried to push up, but he continued to shield her.
“I let them out after I downed the drone. We need to take cover.” In one fluid motion, he rolled off her, brought them to their feet, and pushed her toward an outcrop of trees. “Come on. The chopper is almost here.”
As if to confirm this, another projectile flew past, hitting the horse barn dead on. The building exploded, and once again, they were forced to hit the ground while flaming pieces fell back to earth.
Thank God none of them landed on the house or woodshop.
That thought resounded in her head as the roar of chopper blades grew louder.
When they scrambled to their feet, she tugged the rifle from his shoulder. “Is this loaded?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Good. Cover me.” Without waiting, she raced toward the porch, his muffled curse following her the whole way.
>
As she climbed onto the railing, she saw him kneeling behind what was left of his truck, shooting his Glocks at the chopper hoovering about forty yards out. The sound of bullets hitting metal echoed in the air and competed with the muffled sound of bullets hitting the wood around her from the passenger’s gun. The chopper swerved, and the third missile launched jerked sideways, hitting the mountain in the distance.
Putting it all out of her mind, she concentrated on getting on top of the house, knowing she’d have a great vantage point. She shoved the gun on the roof, grasped the overhang, grateful there were no gutters, and with palms facing her shoulders, she swung back then forward to gain momentum. Using her arms and the muscles in her stomach and legs, she flipped onto the roof, landing on her belly.
Keep them busy a little longer, she silently urged as she reached for the gun and lined up her shot, ignoring the fact the chopper aimed it’s missile launcher at the house.
With the target in her sites, she exhaled, and squeezed the trigger.
The pilot’s head jerked back, and the chopper plunged to the earth, hitting the ground and exploding before the passenger could jump out.
God, she hoped that was Hector.
Using the scope, she scoured the wreckage, waiting to see if anyone emerged.
“Kat,” Brogan called.
She glanced down to watch him rise to his feet and turn an anxious gaze her way.
“Get down.”
Thanks. It was a good shot, she silently praised as, once again, she did as she was told. Her time as an equal was short lived. She climbed back down, and surveyed the damage.
The barn was still ablaze. A large hunk of the truck still smoldered in the driveway, and the twisted wreck of the chopper burned in the field.
But they were alive.
The instant that thought flittered through her mind, a shot rang out from the trees and Brogan stumbled back. Before his name left her lips, something hard hit the back of her head and everything went black.
Chapter Nine
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.
Brotherhood Protectors: Elite Protector (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 7