Page 57 of Ranger Devotion

That icy stare settled on her again. She had the urge to shrink back, but prayed for strength. “It’s over, Marcus. Tate’s fellow rangers know about you, and they’re already on their way. They’ll be here any minute. But not all is lost. There’s still time to end this before more people get hurt.”

“Shut up!” Heather held up the stun gun threateningly before turning to Marcus. She stepped closer to him, moving into his line of vision. “Don’t listen to her. We came here to avenge Seth. It’s what you said you wanted. Our mission isn’t complete, not without killing Preston. He has to pay for what happened.”

“And we tried to make that happen, but we can’t!” Marcus erupted. The force of his rage surprised Annie, but it faded as fast as it came. His complexion paled, and he lifted his jacket, along with the layers of clothing underneath, to reveal a long bandage along his flank. Blood stained the gauze. The wound looked angry. Marcus cursed again. “I can’t take on a Texas Ranger in hand-to-hand combat, don’t you get it? Not with this injury. He’ll take me down, and what good will that do you?”

“Then shoot him.”

“I’ve tried that!” he snapped back. “But my old war injuries have screwed up my aim. I can’t even shoot well at close range.”

Annie rocked on her chair, trying to loosen the rungs her zip ties were attached to. They were going to kill her, no matter what. At the very least, she could give herself a fighting chance.

Marcus dropped his jacket and sighed. “It’s over, Heather. At least for now. We can get Preston later, after the investigation cools down and things return to normal.” He gestured with his knife toward Annie. “Like I said, let’s kill her and bail.”

A shadow in the darkness shifted behind Heather and Marcus. Too small to be human. Annie strained to see, but couldn’t make out what it was. The wound on her skull pounded with the force of her heartbeat. She felt one of the wooden rungs on the chair crack.

Heather shook her head. “No. This is our chance.” She glowered. “I thought you loved Seth. I thought you were willing to do whatever it took to punish the people responsible for his death.” She lifted her chin. “Or are you a coward? Do you quit when things get hard?”

Marcus got in her face. “How dare you question my loyalty to Seth. He was my brother!”

“Then act like it!”

Annie snapped the second rung on the chair, and her hands came free. A sudden movement from the loft drew her gaze upward just in time to glimpse Tate’s determined face before he launched himself at Marcus. Heather screamed and fell back as the two men tumbled to the ground. They rolled, disappearing into the darkness of the barn.

It was her chance! Annie threw herself backward in the chair, and it hit the cement with a painful jolt that shattered the rickety frame. Heather’s expression shifted from shock to rage. She moved toward Annie, the stun gun held at the ready.

Fighting a wave of nausea brought on by the sudden movements, Annie rolled. Heather’s arm shot out, trying to shock her with the stun gun.

A growl ripped from the shadows. Bud flew out of the darkness and latched onto Heather’s outstretched arm. She howled as his teeth sank into her skin. The stun gun clattered to the ground. Heather twisted, trying to dislodge Bud, but the shepherd mix held on. Annie stumbled forward, grabbing the stun gun. Heather’s screams continued. Bud had her on the ground.

Trusting the dog to keep Heather secure, Annie pitched forward on unsteady feet toward the men. Flesh struck flesh, followed by grunts. For a second, it seemed Tate was winning, even with his injured hand, but Marcus head-butted him. In the span of a breath, he was on top of Tate, knife held to the ranger’s throat.

NO! Annie screamed the word in her head as she lunged forward. Her focus narrowed to the small strip of skin barely visible between Marcus’s jacket and his hairline. She jabbed the stun gun into his neck and pressed the button.

Marcus stiffened as the electricity jolted him.

Tate swiped the knife away from his throat and flipped Marcus onto the ground. Using twine he must’ve found in the loft, he secured the former soldier and stripped him of the knife, the rifle, and—tucked in his waistband—Tate’s own Glock. Annie’s head spun.

The barn door crashed opened, and two figures burst inside. “Police! Hands where we can see them!”

“Grady, Luke, over here!” Tate called.

Relief washed over her at the sight of backup, and the spinning of her head increased. She registered Tate had been updating his fellow rangers on his location as he and Bud followed Marcus across the property, but their voices sounded far away and muffled. Annie did her best to stay conscious as Tate urged Bud to let go of Heather. By the time Heather was also secure, Annie was leaning against an old stable door.

Her vision blurred. She sank to the ground. Bud whimpered as he pressed against her. Then Tate was there, floating above her. “Annie! Annie!”

She wanted to speak, but couldn’t make her mouth work.

And then darkness took hold.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Three days later

“I’m not an invalid,” Dwayne grumbled as Tate settled him on a couch at Haven Ranch. A fire in the hearth warmed the lobby. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the property, the sun hung low. The ice had long since melted. This New Year’s Eve would be unusually warm. Nothing like a forty-degree swing in the temperature in one week to make the old Texas adage true: Don’t like the weather, wait a minute. It’ll change.

Annie hovered nearby with a blanket. She’d spent the last few days recovering from a severe concussion. Tate didn’t like thinking about how close he’d come to losing her. Those harrowing hours waiting for the storm to break. Then the dangerous journey to the hospital over ice-slick roads, once the county cleared a single lane on Clemmons Bridge. It was an experience he prayed never to have again.

She spread the flannel over Dwayne’s legs. “The doctor ordered you to rest. It was the only way he’d release you. Don’t make me call and tell him that you’re ignoring his orders.”