Jayson’s extensive Ranger training more than prepared him to deal with dangerous fuckers like these. He just hoped to God they’d come straight here and hadn’t attempted to grab Emma again. Otherwise, they were dead men walking.
His phone buzzed, and he plucked it out to see a text from Brand:We’re here. Circling around the house.
He fired off a text back:Mercs in barn. We’re in the woods.
As he pocketed his phone, three mercs came into view, stepping around the side of the stable. Another two walked out the open rear door.Hell yeah.The Motley Crew’s timing had been impeccable.
Jayson lifted his weapon, looking down the rifle sights, and took careful aim.Like shooting fish in a barrel.The moment he heard gunfire erupt as his team descended, he fired. Target down. The rest of the mercs dropped in rapid succession. Except one. He took off toward Sabrina’s house. Well, it wasn’t her place anymore, but he couldn’t think about that right now.
Spinning around, he raced back over to Lex and the horses. “Goddammit!” Lex roared. “Don’t leave me watching horses when I can help!”
But Jayson ignored him and leapt onto Magnus’s back. He kicked his heels, turning the horse toward the neighbor’s property, and the horse bolted. Magnus’s hooves pounded over the dirt trail and Jayson guided him straight toward a downed log. They soared over it and landed on the snow-covered grass. Lifting his Glock, Jayson fired off one…two…three shots at the retreating merc.Bullseye!Down he went, sprawling onto the ground, a bullet in his leg.
Sliding off the horse, Jayson raced forward, quickly closing the distance, and shouted, “Drop your weapon!”
Rolling onto his back with a loud curse, the man lifted his hands and tossed his gun. Jayson kicked it away, keeping his pistol aimed at the merc. “Don’t fucking move,” he hissed.
Jayson crossed his arms, attention focused on the merc now zip-tied to the custom chair he’d built. His team surrounded the unmasked man, interrogating the fucker as his leg bled, making a mess on the kitchen floor.
At first, he’d refused to talk. But once he realized his predicament—that he was the last man standing and his only hope of walking out of there alive hinged on him cooperating—he caved. It was amazing how quickly loyalties fizzled with aGlock 19 in your face. Then again, did a hired gun have any true loyalties other than to himself?
It didn’t take long to verify he worked for Rocco Ferrante. “He’s pissed and out for vengeance,” the man told them. “Said you killed his brother.”
“He took my daughter,” Jayson gritted out.
“Yeah, she’s lucky you got her back. Ferrante had…plans.”
“What kind of plans?” Brand asked.
The merc shrugged. “Ferrante is a man on a mission. He won’t stop until you and everyone you love is dead. And that pretty FBI agent?”
At the mention of Sabrina, Jayson tensed. “She’s gone,” he said. “Safe, and nowhere near here.”
The merc had the audacity to smirk. “Is that what you think?”
Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of dread filled him, turning his blood to ice. Moving closer, Jayson leaned down, until they were face to face. “Say again?”
“The Fed is dead,” he snarled, twisting his wrists, trying to break free.
Jayson sucked in a breath, his world grounding to an abrupt halt.No. She can’t be.He refused to believe it. “You’re lying. She’s on a plane, almost home.”
The merc’s mouth edged up further, baring his teeth. “No. Ferrante sent men to grab her at the airport before she ever boarded.”
A muscle jerked in Jayson’s cheek and he clenched his hands into fists.
“By now,” the merc continued, “Ferrante’s probably torturing the shit out of her. He doesn’t care for Feds, no matter how pretty. And since you got your daughter back, he decided to go after her. Too bad he’s going to fuck her up. She was such a hot piece of as—”
Jayson punched the smug asshole in his face. Once. Twice. He was going in for a third time when hands grabbed his arms, dragging him away from the piece of shit looking up and smiling through the blood covering his teeth.
A blistering rage seethed through Jayson and something inside him shifted. If they hurt one hair on Sabrina’s head…
His gut twisted and he pulled hard, trying to break free, wanting to smash the merc’s face into a bloody pulp. If it weren’t for Wes and Corey holding him back, he would’ve pulverized the bastard.
“Where. Is. She?” He ground each word out, barely recognizing his own voice. Raw and hoarse. Desperate.
The merc shrugged an indifferent shoulder. “Like I said, she’s probably already dead.”
With a roar, Jayson broke free from his friends’ hold and launched himself at the soon-to-be dead mercenary. Slamming into the man, the chair tumbled backward, hitting the floor with a loud thud. It didn’t break or splinter, providing a perfectly solid backdrop for Jayson’s rage. He grabbed the asshole by the throat, squeezing until the man’s eyes bugged with fear. Because, yeah, he was done fucking around with this piece of shit.
