Page 25 of Ranger's Justice

Rush introduces them and I make mental notes of who’s who.

Dalton Calhoun—former Navy SEAL. Broad-shouldered, cocky grin, but eyes like a predator sizing up prey.

Deacon Winslow—former Marine Force Recon. Quiet, calculating, the kind of man who doesn’t need to say he’s dangerous—you just know.

Gage Remington—former Night Stalker pilot. Leaner than the others, but something about him says he’s the kind who enjoys the fight.

And then there’s Gideon—former Marine Raider, all sharp angles and scars, the kind of man who makes silence feel like a threat.

“And you?” I ask.

“Former Army Ranger and leader of the Texas Rangers Team W.”

“Let me guess the W stands for wolf,” I say, making an educated guess. Rush nods. “You’re all wolf-shifters? Is that what you call yourselves? Because some of the romance novels refer to you as wolf-shifters and some as werewolves.”

“Wolf-shifter is the proper designation,” drawls Dalton.

His team might never refer to Rush as their alpha, but it appears he is the one they all defer to, even if they won’t admit it outright.

Gage lets out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair. “So, this is her, huh?”

Rush gives him a warning look.

Dalton grins. “Relax, boss. I’m just saying… I didn’t think this was the woman who’d have you breaking all your own damn rules.”

Rush ignores him, grabbing a file off the table and flipping it open. He gestures for me to sit. “We’ve got a problem.”

“No kidding,” I mutter.

His gaze flicks to mine, sharp enough to cut. “Hollister’s not just laundering money for the cartel.”

I stiffen. Rush slides the file across the table. “He’s trafficking women. Teens. Maybe younger.”

My gut twists as if someone has stuck a knife in it. My mother is a patron for an organization that works with trafficked women and children.

I scan the reports, the photos, the sickening proof laid out in black and white. My hands clench into fists as I read name aftername—girls who vanished, shuffled through shell companies, their trails disappearing into the void of cartel-controlled routes.

I choke on the words, my throat tight, as I fight back the rising bile. “This is his doing?”

Rush nods. “His company, his accounts, his logistics network.”

An icy rage builds inside me, hotter than anything I’ve ever felt before. Hollister stole my father. Took everything from me. And now he’s doing this?

I shove the file away, my breath ragged. “We stop him.”

Rush watches me carefully. “This isn’t just about numbers on a screen anymore, Marlow. These are real people. Real lives.”

I meet his gaze, my blood burning. “And that’s exactly why we stop him.”

A long beat of silence stretches between us. Then, slowly, Rush nods.

Dalton whistles low under his breath. “Oh, hell. She’s serious.”

Deacon shakes his head. “This is going to get messy.”

Rush straightens. “Then we do what we do best.”

Gideon crosses his arms. “We hunt.”

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