Page 41 of Ranger's Justice

I hand the girl off, careful, slow, making sure she doesn’t panic. Cassidy takes her weight without hesitation, holding her like something fragile and precious, whispering reassurances as she guides her toward the transport vehicle.

The others follow, helped along by our medics, until they’re all loaded up and on their way. I don’t let myself breathe until the taillights disappear down the road.

Gage joins us and claps me on the shoulder. “We did good here, boss.”

I don’t answer. Because good isn’t enough.

Now that the girls are in the capable hands of the medics and other Rangers, the six of us—me, my team and Cassidy—retreat to the SUVs.

Cassidy sits beside me in one of the SUVs, her arms crossed, silent, her expression unreadable. I don’t know what she’s thinking, and I don’t ask. Not yet. I’ve got my own thoughts spinning too fast, my body still wired, adrenaline still burning under my skin.

But even through the chaos in my head, I can feel it—her. That damn pull. The one I’ve been trying to fight since the moment I laid eyes on her.

It’s getting stronger.

Like a leash tightening around my throat, dragging me toward something I have no business wanting.

I grip the wheel tighter, forcing my hands to stay steady.

Cassidy finally breaks the silence. “Rush.”

I glance at her. “Yeah?”

She opens her mouth, then hesitates, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “Never mind.”

I want to push. Demand to know what she was about to say. But I don’t, because now isn’t the time.

When we get back to the ranch, there’s no time for rest.

We secured the surviving trafficker—one of Hollister’s men, the one I left bleeding in the dirt—inside an old storage building, his hands zip-tied behind his back, and a chair bolted to the floor beneath him.

He’s conscious when I walk in, barely. His face is swollen, he has one eye nearly shut, and blood crusts along his temple. He looks up at me and tries for a laugh, but it comes out more like a wheeze.

“You’re wasting your time,” he mutters. “I’m not telling you shit.”

I step closer, slow, deliberate. My wolf surges inside me, eager, hungry.

I grip his shoulder and yank, dragging him forward so fast his breath stutters.

“You really think I need you to talk?” I murmur, my voice low, lethal.

His eyes widen. Dalton leans against the wall, arms crossed. “Boss gets a little impatient with scum like you. You might wanna rethink your strategy.”

The man swallows hard, but says nothing.

I sigh. Then I hit him. His head snaps to the side, blood spraying from his mouth.

I crouch beside him, gripping his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about the next shipment. Where it’s going, who’s buying.”

He lets out a wet laugh. “Fuck you.”

I bare my teeth. “Wrong answer.”

Another hit. Harder this time. The sound of cracking bone fills the room. The man gasps, blood pooling between his lips. He coughs, struggling for breath.

Dalton sighs. “Jesus, just tell him before he gets really pissed.”

The man shudders. “A deal,” he finally chokes out. “Tomorrow. Midnight. South of the border. Some kind of special shipment.”

---