Page 48 of Herding Cat

“Whose fault is that? Not hers.” Though she tried to loosen the tape, she only chafed her skin. “Please. Just let her go. She’s a baby.”

“I can’t.” He hunkered down at her side and fiddled with his weapon. “We have a code.”

“Ah. I understand. A code. Well, that’s okay then.” She glared at him in case he misinterpreted her sarcasm. “Raping women and killing children. Nice code.”

There seemed to be a hint of remorse in his eyes, black as they were. “I could do you now, before he comes back, if you like.”

She gaped at him. Because it was clear from his tone, he believed that would be a mercy. Still, she couldn’t find it in her heart to volunteer to “go early.” As long as she had breath in her lungs, there was hope.

Though she didn’t respond, he lifted his Glock to her forehead.

She closed her eyes.

Swallowed tightly.

Filled her lungs with her very last breath.

But before he had a chance to pull the trigger, an enormous blast rocked the warehouse, the concussion of which knocked her over in that stupid chair and stole her senses.

––––––––

Garrett stilled as an explosion plumed in the warehouse ahead of them.

He glanced at his GPS, which was tracking Catherine’s necklace, and his heart stopped. According to the device, she was in there. In the midst of the flames.

“Shit.” His skin went hot then cold. His mouth went dry. Horror prickled his scalp. He gestured to Luke and Tate and together, the three of them raced, guns drawn, for the warehouse.

He didn’t read Chinese, so he had no idea what this warehouse held, but the explosions continued as though one spurred the next. Beyond that, they were becoming bigger. Flaming shrapnel whizzed past his ears, howling and screaming as it bulleted into one crate after another, sparking another hellish burst. No doubt, before long, the entire building would come down.

Through the smoke, he could see two figures on the cement floor by the door. With a gush of relief he recognized Cat’s outfit...but there was a man with her. When he spotted them, he lifted her up before him, a human shield, and waved his weapon. “Stay back,” he bellowed through the cacophony. “Stay back or I’ll kill her.”

Really?

Fueled by fury at the sight of his woman in peril, Garrett lifted his Sauer and took aim. He did not hesitate. The pop of his weapon was barely audible in the din but his bullet found its mark. Right between the bastard’s eyes.

The man crumpled.

Cat fell with him.

Garrett raced over to catch her but didn’t make it in time. He scooped her limp body into his arms and carried her out of the building because the conflagration was becoming hellish indeed.

He didn’t know what was in that warehouse, but from the smell and sounds, it was probably someone’s weapons stash.

But he hardly cared about that. All that mattered was the woman in his arms. The woman he could not live without.

She was too pale. Too silent and still.

But try as he might, he couldn’t find a wound. He could only hope and pray she was all right.

He settled her on the macadam of the warehouse driveway and cupped her cheek. “Cat,” he whispered. And then, louder, with a tinge more desperation, “Cat.”

He’d never experienced joy like the wash he felt when her lashes fluttered open. Never seen such beauty as her eyes staring back at him. He kissed her in a mad rush.

He certainly didn’t expect her to push him away, so he frowned at her. “What?”

“Get Mae.” He barely understood her, her voice was so frail.

“Where is she?”