Page 61 of Rafe’s Future

A flash of something he couldn’t quite name crossed over her as a smile lifted her kissable lips. “Is this the part where you say it’s your job to protect me because you’re the big, strong man?”

Actually, yes.

Not because he was a misogynistic pig. It was simply how he was raised. Lena was one of the smartest, most capable women Rafe had ever known, but it was his duty to keep the women in his life safe.

So far, he was oh-for-two on that front. First, his wife was shot and killed, and then, years later, his daughter had come close to suffering the same fate.

I failed them both.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake with Lena.

Not ever again.

“We’re partners, remember?” He continued holding her stare. “I cover your six, you cover mine. Always.”

“Always?” One of Lena’s brunette brows grew pointed. “That’s a bit hyperbolic, don’t you think?”

“For some, maybe. But I’ve never been one to speak in hyperbole.”

“You know what I mean. When this is over, you’ll go back to your daughter, your team, and your incredible home. And I’ll go back to . . . doing what I do.” She cleared her throat. “So to say you’ll always have my back is⁠—”

“The truth.” Rafe reached over the console and took one of her hands in his. “You need my help, I’ll be there. All you have to do is call.”

“I believe you,” Lena whispered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “And I appreciate that more than you know.”

“Good.” With a slight nod, he pulled away and reached back to open his door. “We should get going. Once we’re inside, we’ll update Pascal and Roger and hopefully convince them to come back to Charlotte with us.”

Lena followed his lead and exited the vehicle from the other side. It took less than a minute to slide on their protective vests and grab their desired weapons.

Rafe had his Glock 19 at his hip, a Ruger LCR at his ankle, and a full-size KA-BAR blade sheathed and hanging from his belt. From what he could see, Lena had also chosen her standard-issue Glock, a smaller pistol, and a knife more appropriately sized for her cute little hands.

You know she’d kill you if you ever actually called her hands cute.

Rafe hid a smile as he double-checked his own gear.

From where she stood, at the opposite side of the car’s back bumper, Lena tightened the bottom strap of her vest. “Okay.” She looked up at him. “I’m ready.”

He walked toward her. “Stay behind me.”

Moving as one, they made their way down the long, gravel drive with the moonlight graciously leading the way. As they reached the cabin, Lena pointed to the only vehicle they could see.

“That’s Roger’s car,” she spoke low to avoid detection.

The silver sedan was parked at the end of the driveway, to the right of the small, single-level cabin. According to the details Lena found using the SafeHS app, the wooded hideaway had one bedroom, one bathroom, a living room, and a small kitchen.

“Stay here.” Rafe adjusted the grip on his pistol. “I’ll do a quick perimeter sweep.”

It didn’t take long to check the immediate area surrounding the small cabin’s frame. When he returned without incident, both he and Lena approached the entrance with silent caution.

“You ready?” she mouthed, her free hand posed inches away from the storm door’s metal frame.

Rafe nodded, letting her know he was good to go. Lena’s chest rose and fell with a full breath, and then she began to knock. They waited and listened. With no response, she tried knocking again.

“Damien? Roger?” Her knuckles wrapped against the screened door once more. “It’s me. It’s Price. I’m here with Rafe Owens.” She paused. “You remember him, right, Pascal? The stuffy Brit who worked with us in Syria?”

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips when she slid an unapologetic smirk his way. Several seconds later, however, when they’d still received no response, a wave of dread settled deep in his gut.

This isn’t a good sign.