Page 33 of Ranger's Justice

Rush doesn’t even glance up as he checks the magazine on his Glock before snapping it back into place. “No, you’re not.”

I grind my teeth, stepping closer, not giving a damn that every member of his team is staring at us. “You’re splitting us up, why? You don’t think I can handle it?”

Rush finally lifts his head, his storm-gray eyes locking onto mine. “No, I don’t think you can stay out of trouble.”

“Bullshit.”

Dalton chuckles from where he’s leaning against the doorframe. “She’s got you there, boss.” Rush’s glare slides toward him, and Dalton throws up his hands. “Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just saying she’s survived a gunfight with the cartel. Might be a pain in the ass, but she’s got instincts.”

I whip my head toward Dalton. “Oh, wow. High praise. ‘Might be a pain in the ass?’”

Dalton grins. “Gotta call it like I see it, sweetheart.”

I turn back to Rush. “I can help. I should be with you.”

“No,” he says, with a finality I’m sure he thinks will end this argument.

I plant my hands on my hips. “You can’t just…”

“Yes, I can.” Rush steps into my space, and despite my resolve, my body reacts. The heat of him, the scent of leather and whiskey, the sheer presence of him—it’s a force all its own. “You’re going with Dalton and Gideon. They need your brain, Marlow. You’re the one who found the financials. We need more. If there’s a connection between Hollister and the cartel’s trafficking, you’re the only one who’s going to find it.”

I shake my head. “That’s an excuse. You just want me out of your sight.”

His jaw flexes, his nostrils flaring. “You’re wrong. I never want you out of my sight.” He leans in, his breath hot against my ear, his voice just low enough that only I can hear. “The problem is if I see you in the middle of another firefight, I won’t be able to think straight.”

A shiver runs down my spine, and I hate he knows it. I hate that he can pull a reaction from me with nothing more than a few words and the gravel of his voice.

Dalton lets out a long whistle. “Damn. Should we put this op off? Do you two need a little more time in Rush’s room, or are we good to roll out?”

Rush steps back, straightens his shoulders, and jerks his chin toward the door. “Go.”

Gideon is already moving, his usual silent presence barely more than a shadow. Dalton grins, motioning toward the door like he’s inviting me into some grand adventure. “Come on, princess. Let’s go dig through some dirty money.”

I shoot one last glare at Rush, knowing damn well I’ve lost this fight. “This isn’t over,” I mutter before storming over to the SUV where Gideon is standing.

Rush’s response is a low growl that follows me all the way to the SUV.

Dalton drives, because of course he does. He has the radio on some classic rock station, humming along to an old Lynyrd Skynyrd song as if we aren’t heading straight into cartel business.

I sit in the backseat with a laptop open, tapping into my company’s servers through a secure line and hacking into Hollister’s firm. I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for, but I know Hollister. I don’t have time to cover my tracks in Hollister’s system. Fortunately, as far as I can tell, no one at Marcus’s company is involved. If Hollister is involved in human trafficking, there’ll be a paper trail somewhere.

“You finding anything yet?” Dalton asks over his shoulder.

I don’t look up. “It’s not that simple.”

Dalton glances at Gideon. “That means no.”

Gideon doesn’t respond. He seems to be the strong, silent type.

I roll my eyes and refocus on the screen. Someone has buried Hollister’s financials under layers of shell corporations, offshore accounts, and subsidiaries that don’t officially exist. It’s the kind of money laundering that takes years to perfect. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost be impressed by their work.

“Damn,” I mutter under my breath.

Dalton raises an eyebrow at me through the rearview mirror. “That a good damn or a bad damn?”

“Depends on whether or not you like human traffickers.”

Dalton’s expression darkens. “What’d you find?”

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