Page 90 of Serve ’N’ Protect

With the phone held to one ear, he shut off the engine, getting out and opening the rear door for Ghost. His dog leaped onto the pavement, his white coat evidencing exactly why he’d been given that name. With the sky dark and no moon visible, he looked exactly like a ghostly specter in what dim, ambient light there was.

“I’m sorry, sergeant,” the dispatcher said. “There’s a fatal wreck on the highway in the next town over. All units are tied up. I’ve relayed your message to Detective Chang, along with any available cars in all surrounding towns. I should get a response any minute now.”

Shit. “Just tell them to get here fast.” He stuffed the phone in his jacket pocket then went to the back of the SUV and opened up the tailgate. He pressed his fingers into the finger-sized indentations on the small safe bolted to the floor, holding them there until the door clicked open. He pulled out his Glock and two fully loaded magazines, shoving one of the mags into his rear pocket and slamming the other into the gun and racking in a round.

Ghost’s body vibrated as he waited for the command Markus was about to give. “Let’s go get our girl.”

They hit the pavement at a dead run.

Markus pounded over the asphalt until his lungs burned. Every second counted. Every second could mean Cassidy’s life.

Ghost ran ahead, constantly looking back at Markus to make sure he was still with him. Fuck, he was out of shape.

At the curb in front of the house, he stopped to slow his breathing and tug the gun from his belt. Ghost panted beside him, his front paws dancing on the grass. “Easy, boy.” They crept onto the lawn. At the base of the porch steps, he held up his hand, signaling for Ghost to stay. His dog wasn’t happy about that, but those thick nails would make too much noise on the wood porch.

He had no idea what the situation was inside the house. The only thing he was sure of was that the woman he loved needed him. A warrior who is prepared to fight must also be prepared to die. He was ready to fight to his last breath.

The light inside remained off, but he glimpsed a large shadow passing in front of the window, one way too big to be Cassidy’s slim frame. Dammit. Still no troops. He had no backup, but what he did have was the element of surprise.

Even a combat-trained soldier needed time to register a threat, send a signal to his or her brain, then react to it. Blasting his way in there without knowing Cassidy’s location wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. Whatever he did next had to be quick, and it had to be decisive.

Think, dammit. Think!

He looked around, peering through the darkness. There, at the bottom of the stairs, was exactly what he was looking for. He stuffed his gun back into his belt then grabbed it and crept onto the porch. Right before he swung, he signaled for Ghost.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Cassidy cried out as the hit man jerked the zip tie around her wrists.

Crash! Glass shattered, echoing in the room like a crack of thunder.

Shards pelted the top of her head. She held up her bound hands to protect her face then threw herself onto the sofa.

More glass broke, and she twisted her neck to see a man leap through the broken window, followed by a huge flying white dog. Ghost!

The hit man rose to his feet, cursing. She could just make out his arm extending and the dark outline of the gun aiming at Ghost as the dog leaped again, this time at the hit man.

“No!” She kicked out, contacting the backs of his legs.

Pop pop.

Oh, dear God. He’d fired his gun. But she hadn’t heard Markus cry out or Ghost whimper.

Ghost snarled, latching on to the guy’s leg and sending him off balance. Markus hurtled through the air, tackling the guy and sending them both crashing on top of the coffee table. Wood cracked as the table broke.

Cassidy rolled up and over the back of the sofa. Growling and snarling grew louder. Grunting and punching sounds came from the men as they grappled on the floor amidst the broken pieces of wood.

She had to do something to help, but she couldn’t see well enough in the dim light. She ran to the nearest light switch at the base of the stairs and flipped it on.

Ghost had his teeth clamped around the man’s ankle, shaking his head back and forth and pulling backward. As if immune to the pain Ghost’s teeth must be inflicting, he managed to roll on top of Markus, punching him in the jaw.

Where was the gun? Either of them.

Frantically, she searched until she glimpsed the black handle of Markus’s gun sticking out from under the sofa. She grabbed it, trying to hold it with both hands the way he’d shown her, but with her wrists still bound by the zip tie, her grip wasn’t what it should be.

The guy got in another solid punch to Markus’s jaw. She aimed in, putting her finger through the trigger guard and squeeezing the trigger.

The gunshot blasted, the gun kicking in her hands. A flurry of movement and the men changed positions, with Markus straddling the other man’s chest.