Page 68 of Ranger's Justice

Gideon meets my gaze first. “We’ve got a problem.”

I already knew that.

Cassidy tenses beside me, but her voice is steady. “What happened?”

Gage blows out a slow breath. “Hollister knows.”

The air goes still.

A slow, cold burn settles in my gut, the kind that comes before bloodshed. “How?”

Deacon shakes his head. “No idea. We only just confirmed the location today, but somehow, someone tipped him off. He’s moving up his meeting.”

Gideon steps forward. “He’ll be at the estate tomorrow night instead of two days from now.”

Tomorrow. Damn it. I clench my jaw. The plan we spent all day forming is already unraveling in my head. We were supposed to have more time. We were supposed to have a clean shot at this.

“Does he know we’re coming?” Cassidy asks.

Dalton snorts. “If he does, he’s not running.” He glances at me, his expression darker than usual. “This isn’t him being cautious, boss. He’s baiting us.”

The words settle heavy between us. Hollister wants us to come. That means he’s planning something worse than a deal with the Del Toro cartel people.

A slow, predatory smile curls at the edge of my mouth. “Good.”

Cassidy’s head snaps toward me. “Good?”

I nod, exhaling slowly, feeling the fire inside me ignite. “Then we don’t have to wait to take the bastard out.”

She swallows, her throat working, but she doesn’t back down. “So what’s the plan?”

I glance at Gideon. “We move up the timeline.”

Gideon nods. “I’ll rework our strategy.”

Gage steps forward. “We should assume he has reinforcements.”

“Assume?” Dalton grins darkly. “We should count on it.”

Cassidy crosses her arms. “Then we take them all out.”

I glance at her, something tightening in my chest. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t waver. My warrior. My mate. Damn if I don’t love her all the more for it.

I reach out, brushing my fingers against hers in silent agreement, before looking back at my men. “We end this. Tomorrow night.”

The others nod, determination settling into their features.

Cassidy exhales, squaring her shoulders. “No mistakes.”

I squeeze her hand.

“No survivors.”

The air in the room is thick with tension, every single one of us locked in knowing that we have less time than we thought. Somehow Hollister has caught wind of our plans, which means we have to move fast—before he fortifies his defenses, before he gets another step ahead. He’ll expect us to come tomorrow night, which means we go tomorrow morning.

I stand at the head of the long wooden table in the war room, surrounded by my team—my pack. The dim overhead light illuminates maps, satellite images, and blueprints scattered across the table’s surface. Cassidy stands behind me, her arms wrapped around my waist, leaning her head against my arm.

She has said little since the meeting started, but I can feel her. Feel her pulse through the bond, feel her energy vibrating like a wire pulled too tight. I want to tell her to go lie down, to let us handle this, but we both know she isn’t going to do that.

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