Page 48 of Casey's Hero

“What’s she saying?” Jacob asked Maddog.

Maddog cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “She’s mad because they can’t get her fiancé to agree to marry her. She wants to know why she has to do everything.”

“I’m not going to marry you, Camila,” Hawk’s voice sounded.

Boomer grinned. “I knew he wouldn’t do it.”

“That man would eat glass before he agreed to marry her,” Rex said. “He loves Kalea.”

“Shh,” Maddog canted his head toward the voices in the living area down the long hallway.

The others fell silent.

Maddog frowned.

“What’s she saying?” Jacob’s chest tightened. “Are they threatening Hawk?”

Maddog nodded. “Yes, but not directly. Camila just told her guys to go get the prisoners.”

“Prisoners?” Jacob frowned. “I thought they had Hawk out already. They have more?”

Maddog held up his hand as Camila continued talking. “She says she won’t hurt Hawk, but she will hurt the ladies he loves if he doesn’t agree to marry her.”

“What does she mean, the ladies he loves?” The question was out of his mouth before his brain engaged. Immediately, he knew. “They got Kalea.”

“She specifically said ‘ladies’,” Maddog said. “More than one.”

Jacob’s heart plummeted to his belly. “If she has Kalea....then they also have Casey. We have to do something.” He took off down the hall. “Get ready,” he said into his mic. “We’re engaging.”

When the doorto the small, closet-like room opened, light flooded into the room and across the empty floor where they had been lying when they’d been bound and gagged.

A man cursed in Spanish and stepped through the door.

Casey threw the blanket over his head, like a lasso, grabbed it tight and pulled hard, dragging the man over the threshold.

At the last minute, she stuck out her foot, tripping him.

He fell to the ground, landing hard. Casey jumped onto his back, grabbed the back of his head and slammed it against the tile.

The man behind the first guy rushed in, also cursing.

Kalea was ready for him, swinging the small, wooden tabletop so hard it cracked over the man’s skull and split into two pieces.

Casey dove to the side as the man fell like a tree, landing on top of his counterpart.

Scrambling to her feet, Casey grabbed the handgun the first guy had dropped on the floor. Kalea pried the gun out of the second guy’s hand. As she was pulling it free of his fingers, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her to her knees, growling a low, feral sound.

Kalea fought to free her wrist, but the man held on, refusing to let go.

Casey took the gun in the palm of her hand and smashed it against the man’s head, where he’d already been hit with the table.

He growled and rolled over, backhanding Casey and sending her sprawling on her backside. She pushed to her feet again and came at the guy with one of the legs from the broken table, afraid to fire the gun and make the others in the house aware that their guards were under attack. She cocked her arm, ready to swing, when another man appeared in the doorway with a military-style rifle in his hands, pointed at her chest. He gestured with his weapon and shouted an order in Spanish, “Drop it, or I’ll kill you.”

Casey had to drop the table leg and the handgun, or he’d shoot her. When she hesitated, he aimed the rifle at Kalea, who was still struggling to free her hand from the grip of the man on the floor beside her.

Having heard how ruthless the cartels could be, Casey didn’t doubt for a moment that he would shoot Kalea if Casey didn’t give up her weapons. She could risk bringing up her handgun and firing into the man’s chest, but he was in position with his finger on the trigger. She had at least a couple of moves to get to a point where she could fire. By then, he’d have pulled the trigger and killed her best friend.

Casey tossed the jagged table leg to the side, dropped the handgun on the floor and kicked it out of reach of the other men lying on the tile near her. No use giving them more ammunition with which to kill her. It was likely they’d kill her anyway—if the Brotherhood Protectors didn’t get there soon.

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