Page 13 of Ranger's Justice

“Listen to me,” I say, voice low, firm. “This isn’t a game. You think you can keep going down this road without consequences?”

She tilts her chin up. “What are you saying?”

I lean in, letting the air between us snap tight. “I’m saying if you keep digging, there won’t be a safe place left for you.”

Her breathing picks up, but she doesn’t look away. “I don’t care.”

I run a hand down my face, barely stopping myself from grabbing her and shaking some goddamn sense into her.

Damn her.

Damn me.

“You should,” I bite out. “Because the moment Hollister knows you’re on to him, he’ll burn every trail you’ve uncovered. And if that doesn’t work, he’ll put a bullet in you and call it business.”

Cassidy inhales sharply.

For the first time tonight, a flicker of doubt passes over her face.

Good.

She needs to be afraid. I sure as hell am. Not for me. For her.

I grip the steering wheel, needing something to ground me. “You’re under my protection now.”

Her eyes flash with fire. “I didn’t ask for that.”

I drag my gaze over her, letting my wolf press against my control just enough to make my meaning clear. I don’t care what she asked for.

“I don’t take requests, Marlow,” I murmur. “I take control.”

She sucks in a breath, and for one long moment, neither of us move.

Then she leans forward, voice steady despite the heat in her gaze. “And what happens when I don’t follow orders, Ranger?”

I meet her stare, something dark and hungry curling in my chest.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

CHAPTER 4

CASSIDY

Rush drives like a man who’s been in too many high-speed chases—fast, controlled, and without an ounce of hesitation. The SUV eats up the empty highway, cutting through the night like a predator on the hunt.

I don’t speak.

Not because I don’t want to—oh, I do—but because I know I’ll only get half-answers and stone-cold glares if I start asking the questions burning through me now.

Instead, I focus on the fact that I’m alive. And that the man sitting next to me, all muscle and dominance, is the reason why. The reality of what just happened is sinking in, layering over my frustration, my adrenaline, my need for answers.

I should be shaken. I should be terrified. But I feel more alive than I have in a very long time. It’s as if I just walked through hell and came out the other side sharper, faster, more certain than ever.

Hollister is in league with the cartel. He was responsible for my father’s murder. I know it. I may not be able to prove it yet, but I’m not backing down—no way, no how.

But first? I need to figure out just who the hell Ranger Zane “Rush” Rushton really is.

We turn off the main highway, the glow of the city fading behind us. Rush takes a winding road, cutting through thick brush and miles of nothing, the kind of landscape that swallows people whole.

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