Page 11 of The Ranger Gets His Girl

He hung up and opened the door a crack to watch. He felt Lucy touch his back and whisper, "What's going on?"

He turned his head to reply softly, "Drugs."

She gasped. "Oh no. I've never done anything like that. You have to believe me. If I'd known, I wouldn't have been here."

"Sh, it's alright. I believe you. What about your friend downstairs?"

"Oh no, she'd never do anything more than weed, trust me. We've talked about it plenty over the years. She's my roommate."

"She seemed pretty familiar with the main suspect. They might want to question her."

She began to pace behind him, and he felt his watch vibrate.

At exactly 12:05.

He swiped to the time. "Three minutes," he whispered, glancing at the suspects at the end of the hall once more.

"What's going to happen?" Her voice was small with a hint of fear in it. He shut the door and saw she was just two steps away.

He closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her. She melted into his embrace.

"It's going to be fine. You stay in here, yeah? No matter what you hear, don't leave. I'll come and get you when it's over."

She nodded against his shoulder and took a shaky breath. He kissed the top of her head and released her. He stepped back and looked at the door.

"They need to think we've been getting busy," he muttered, then took his shirt off and tossed it to the bed. He took off his gun holster and dropped it next to his boots. Then he slid the pistol into the waistband of his pants against his spine.

The cold steel made goosebumps spread on the back of his neck. This shit just got real, but it would be fine as long as she stayed in here.

It wouldn't go like his last girlfriend. The cold steel against his relatively still fresh scar was more of a wake-up call than anything else.

The dim light meant he still couldn't see her from this angle, but she had to have a pretty good view of him because she gasped. Her hand went to her lips, and she sat on the bed with a soft bounce.

He turned back to the door and opened it, slipping into the hallway and making sure his back never faced the druggies. He raked a hand down his face and fell against the opposite wall like he was drunk. He glanced at the goons at the end who both stared at him over their girls' heads now.

He grinned and waved like they were old friends. Then he looked over his shoulder down the stairs and turned back to them. With an exaggerated tiptoe, he went closer.

"Sh, she's passed out now. Where's the head in this joint?"

They pointed to the last door in the hallway that didn't have a sock on it. He turned to look and saw two of the team crest the stairs, weapons drawn.

"Hands where I can see 'em," one man barked. The two goons tried to hide behind their girls who screamed and threw their hands up. Mason threw himself in a faux stumble against the door behind him.

It gave way, and he immediately shifted to the left of the door and drew his weapon. "Freeze," he said as the head dirtbag tried to climb out the window.

The two girls on the bed looked at him, their heads lolling to the side. The guy who was kneeling on the floor covered his head and started crying.

The third crony took a swing at Mason, but he ducked and landed a punch to his gut that sent him doubling over. Then he leaped over the bed and the girls and tackled the guy with one leg over the window sill.

He twisted his arms and landed on his back with a crack. More of the team quickly filed in, yelling and making demands.

Mason kept the struggling perp in his grasp until another in tactical black came over with cuffs.

Simon brought up the rear and looked around as Mason groaned and sat up.

"You good, Novak?"

Mason nodded, holding his back as he slowly stood. "Just tweaked it. Did we get them all?"

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