Remy whined and dragged his tongue across Hawk’s face.
“Gee, thanks.” Hawk stood, wiped his hand over his face, then gave Charlotte a last long look before he left the room.
He wasn’t three feet down the hall when he heard the distinctiveca-thunkof the deadbolt engaging behind him.
Hawk hurried into the kitchen, grabbed his earpiece, and made sure it was tucked securely into his ear.
“Cole, can you hear me?” The team should already have their earpieces in.
“Affirmative.” His boss’s deep voice was as clear as if he were standing next to him. “Any sign of Kimball?”
“Yes,” he said. “Four men are currently attempting to climb over my front gate.”
“I thought that thing was electrified,” Cole said.
“I turned it off.” Hawk’s plan was for Kimball to survive tonight. “I have a few things I’d like to ask him.”
He didn’t give two shits what happened to the three other dipshits.
“Cole, Kimball is mine,” he said.
“Understood.” His boss knew firsthand what it felt like to have a woman you cared about being targeted.
Hawk verified the number of arrows in the quiver and looped the strap over his head so it hung comfortably across his back. He closed his eyes, calmed his mind, and summoned the ancient drumbeats and whispers of his ancestors preparing for a hunt.
Tonight,hewas the one hunting. Only this time, his prey was the two-legged variety.
Hawk grabbed his duffle bag, activated the house alarm, and let himself out the front door. The moon was no more than a sliver, so he tugged his NVGs from the bag, slipped them onto his head, and flipped down the scopes. He powered them on, and the world was plunged into varying shades of bright green and gray.
In the distance, he heard the distinctivewomp womp wompof the long rotor blades cutting through the night sky.
There was no time to wait. There was about three-fourths of a mile between the house and the front gate, and he wanted to get to Kimball and his men before they got to the house. He jumped off the porch and set off into the woods at a run.
Hawk had the advantage—he’d explored, hunted, and tracked on pretty much every inch of this property. He knew it well.
Heart rate steady, his breathing controlled, he ducked around bushes and vaulted over downed trees blocking his path. Time was of the essence, so the crunch of foliage beneath his feet couldn’t be helped.
He was careful to leave plenty of distance between himself and the bear den in the hollowed-out white oak tree off to his right. He just hoped Carl was exploring the opposite side of the property tonight. First, because Hawk already had enough to deal with, and second, because he didn’t want those assholes taking shots at him.
Carl was the name Hawk had given the big black bear who lived in the den. He’d encountered him several times, and since neither of them was going anywhere, he figured he might as well give the big guy a name.
He respected the fact this land belonged to Carl long before he arrived. And the bear seemed to understand the weird two-legged creature who’d invaded his turf meant him no harm.
This time of year, when the weather was warm and the days were long, Carl liked to roam around. He would forage for wild berries and nuts, catch fish in the stream that bisected the property, and he especially enjoyed taking a nap—sometimes beneath Hawk’s porch.
Hawk slowed to a stop when flashes of the lights around the gate filtered through the rustling leaves and bushes. He was close enough he could hear loud whispering from the men on the other side.
“Fuck, just get your ass up there.” He assumed that was Kimball, since he was barking the orders. “We don’t have all fucking night.”
“I’m tryin’, Vinny, but this jackass won’t hold still,” another man said.
Hawk moved closer and lifted his NVGs away from his face. Thanks to the accent lighting around the gate, he could see well enough without them.
After a lot of grunting and groaning, two hands appeared at the top of the gate right before a head popped up.
“Push!” he hissed, and his feet scrambled against the other side until he managed to push himself up and over the top.
“Oomph.”He landed on his feet, his knees buckled, and he face-planted on the gravel drive. “Son of a bitch.” He pushed up to his knees and wiped his fingers across his nose. “My fuckin’ nose is bleeding.” As he stood, his pistol tumbled from his coat pocket and scraped across the rocks. “Shit.” He bent to pick it up, tucked it into his waistband, and brushed his hands off on the side of his pants. “I’m over.”
