Page 40 of Ranger's Justice

They might be safe now, but they sure as hell weren’t before.

I take a slow breath, trying to keep my voice steady when I bark out an order to Deacon over the comms. “Call it in. Get the others here. We need transport and medical.”

I know I should be relieved that we got here in time, that we stopped at least one shipment from disappearing into cartel hands. But there’s no relief. Just fury. Because for every one of these girls we saved, there are others we didn’t. Others we might never find.

Gideon steps up beside me, his voice low. “They were ready to move. This wasn’t just a holding site. They were on their way to a handoff.”

I grit my teeth. “That’s what I figured.”

Gideon’s jaw tightens. “Means there are more. This isn’t their only route.”

The SUV with Deacon, Cassidy and Dalton rolls up beside the semi.

“Reinforcements and medical are on the way.”

I don’t respond, because I already know that too.

Behind us, the girl in my arms lets out a soft, broken whimper. She’s not crying—doesn’t have the strength for it—but her fingers clench weakly in my shirt, like she’s bracing for whatever comes next. It nearly breaks me.

Within short order. Several trucks and a transport vehicle rumble up the dirt road, headlights cutting through the dark. Texas Ranger reinforcements and medical personnel have arrived. I let out a slow breath, forcing the wolf inside me back down as the vehicles skid to a stop and the doors fly open. A couple of Rangers I recognize jump out, med kits in hand, their faces grim when they take in the scene. Medical personnel are exiting the transport vehicle.

Dalton moves to help organize the transport, speaking quietly to one medic as they assess the girls. Cassidy gasps behind me. I hear her sharp intake of breath, the way her heart pounds like a drumbeat against the silence. She steps closer, her hands gripping the edge of the door frame as her eyes scan the truck’s interior.

“Oh, my God,” she breathes.

She’s seen the financials. The coded transactions. The cold, hard numbers that prove Hollister has been financing the worst kind of operation. But numbers don’t prepare you for the reality.

The girls don’t scream. They don’t even move at first, just curl tighter into themselves, their fear so deeply ingrained that even with the doors open, even with their captors gone, they can’t imagine rescue.

One girl stirs, a thin thing with tangled dark hair and too-large eyes that dart toward me. She sways slightly, her pupils blown wide, drugs still coursing through her veins.

Deacon moves in first, stepping onto the truck bed, his voice softer than I expect. “It’s alright,” he says, hands raised. “We’re not here to hurt you.”

The girl flinches, her body curling tighter. The others stay silent.

Cassidy pushes past me, moving before I can stop her. “Hey,” she murmurs, crouching low, her voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “You’re safe now. We’re not like them.”

One of the girls lifts her head, barely able to focus. She looks at Cassidy, then at me, then back to Cassidy again.

“They said no one would come,” she whispers.

Cassidy swallows hard. “They were wrong.”

I see her fingers tremble where they grip the edge of the truck bed. She doesn’t cry, but I can see the war happening inside her. Anger. Horror. A deep, soul-cutting sorrow. She looks at me, and for the first time in my life, I don’t have the right words.

I motion for Deacon to bring her over. The girl in my arms stiffens at the movement, her breath hitching, but she doesn’t pull away. Cassidy steps closer, dropping into a crouch beside me.

“Hey,” she murmurs, her voice soft but steady. “You’re going to be okay.”

The girl doesn’t respond, but her eyes flick toward Cassidy, barely focusing.

Cassidy reaches out, hesitating for only a second before brushing a hand over the girl’s arm. “I know you’re scared,” she says gently. “But we’re going to get you somewhere safe. No one is going to hurt you again.”

Something in her tone must get through, because the girl sags against me, her body relaxing just slightly.

I glance at Cassidy, my throat tight. “Can you take care of her?”

She nods immediately. “Of course.”

---