He called Aja’s cell phone and prayed she picked up. When she did, he didn’t bother with a greeting. He simply said, “Keep everyone in the house. There’s a guard on the front and back porches. Stay there until I get back.”
“Jackson, what’s going on?”
“I don’t have time to explain, Aja. Promise me you won’t leave the house until I return.”
He heard her intake of breath over the phone and prepared himself for the argument to come. “Promise you’ll be careful, Jackson.”
Silence filled the line, and he thought for a moment she might have disconnected the call. But then he heard her call his name again, the last syllable spoken higher, as if she were asking a question, and he realized she was waiting for him to respond.
She’s worried about me.He wasn’t certain what to do with that revelation. Outside of his family, he’d never had that. Not even when he was married.
“I promise, Aja. I’ll be careful.” He disconnected the line and slowed down as he neared the original homestead, cutting the engine and the lights and letting the vehicle coast in neutral until he parked behind a thicket of brush in the back of the house. He pulled a pistol from his glove compartment, checked the amount of ammunition in it, and headed for the gathering group of men kneeling quietly behind the cover of trees.
He made his way over to where Colton leaned against a thick tree trunk. In a hushed tone, he asked, “We have eyes on the subject yet?”
“Yeah. He slipped into the house through an opened side window.”
“Good. Let’s flush him out. I want him alive, and I want as little damage done to that property as possible. It’s important to Aja and her family. You have any tear gas on you?”
“I’m not SWAT—why would I have that on me?”
Jackson lifted a suspicious brow, and Colton rolled his eyes before reaching into the black duffel next to him and handing Jackson a metal canister.
“I hope you have a plan to explain why you’re walking around with this in your report.”
“Sure do: my superior asked me for it.”
Jackson shook his head as he pulled a small flashlight from his back pocket and shone its light on the canister. It was a smoke grenade, not tear gas, and Jackson was happy about that. Neither they nor the security detail helping them had gas masks, and Jackson wasn’t looking forward to his face and eyes burning.
He handed the canister back to Colton. “Get closer and toss it; your throwing arm is better than mine.”
“My everything is better than yours, Dean.”
“Including your ability to court trouble.” He slapped Colton on the back and used hand signals to communicate to the men who were too far away to hear their whispered plan.
When everyone nodded, they all inched closer to the rickety structure. Jackson gave Colton the signal, and he ran toward the side of the house, throwing the lit smoke grenade inside and then returning to the safety of cover in the tree line.
Billows of smoke seeped from the opened window. Soon they saw the back door open, and through the cloud of smoke, a figure covered in black clothing emerged. The masked person fell through the opened door as he tried to get away from the smoke.
Jackson gave the go-ahead, and Colton and the rest of the men surrounded the intruder, pointing guns and flashlights at him and yelling for him to get on the ground.
The suspect raised his hands in surrender and carefully walked down the creaking back porch stairs, then fell to the ground on his knees. Jackson holstered his weapon and removed a set of zip-tie cuffs from his pocket. He shoved the suspect to the ground, pulled his arms behind his back, and secured them with the ties. Finally, he yanked the man to his feet, grabbing the ski mask covering his face.
Jackson stared into the face of a young white man, no more than twenty years old, closely scrutinizing his face and drawing a complete blank. “Now, who the fuck are you?”
Chapter 27
Aja paced back and forth in her kitchen, clutching her cell phone in her hand, waiting for it to ring. Nearly forty-five minutes had passed since Jackson called with his cryptic message. He’d been direct and abrupt, two things that weren’t necessarily unusual about the Ranger. However, the sense of urgency in his message and his tone still made Aja tremble with unspoken fear.
Something was wrong, terribly wrong. She didn’t need to read minds to know that. Something was happening on her land that was more than likely dangerous, and her instinct to protect those around her was reaching near-panic levels.
“If you don’t stop pacing like that, you will wear a hole in the floor. Not to mention, you’re making your aunt and uncle worry.”
Aja looked up to see Mat standing in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the doorjamb. “I don’t mean to, but I’m worried.” She’d left her three guests in the great room to prevent them from seeing how concerned she was for Jackson’s safety.
“Didn’t you tell me you stress baked? I’m sure whatever’s going on out there will be over by the time you whip up something fabulous in your oven.”
“Not this time,” she answered. Not with Jackson out in the darkness, possibly facing the person who’d attacked her.
