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T he whomp-whomp-whomp of helicopter rotor blades filled the air, and Chaz stopped pacing and bolted out the front door. Brandon, Jayson, Lex and Corey followed closely behind and they all stood there, looking up to see a helo swoop into view.

“He sure knows how to make an entrance,” Brand said as the bird landed on the grass not far away.

Xander Hawke hopped out, a laptop tucked under his arm, and gave the pilot a wave. Then he ducked his head and jogged across the lawn. The helo lifted into the air, kicking up a strong wind as Xander reached the group, shoving a hand through his mussed-up hair.

At forty-one, he was younger than the rest of them and former CIA—which in Chaz’s book meant he couldn’t be fully trusted. But he’d proven himself an asset to the team after helping rescue Brand and Julia and, more recently, cemented his place on the team by dismantling a nuclear bomb. Okay, the guy had some skills, but in Chaz’s mind he still gave off very dangerous and mysterious vibes.

“Thanks for coming,” Chaz said.

“Of course. The Ferrante brothers are ruthless and Lottie is a sweetheart.”

Yeah, his sweetheart.

Shutting down his inner caveman, Chaz and the others headed back into the cabin. He wasn’t going to dwell on how classically good-looking Hawke was with bright blue eyes, dark hair and, he was willing to bet, sharp cheekbones beneath his beard. Inwardly, Chaz rolled his eyes.

Lottie chose you , he reminded himself. Well, at least for now. He had no idea what their future held, but he was going to fight for her. First, though, they had to find her.

“We went over the dossier you sent,” Brand said, “and it looks like these guys have their hands in everything.”

Xander nodded. “They run Las Vegas, head up all the organized crime there. Their net worth is in the billions.”

“And we probably have about a million of that.” Chaz pulled the velvet bag from his pocket and tossed it to Xander. The other man caught it and opened the drawstring pouch. He dumped the glittering contents into his palm and let out a low whistle.

“At least a million,” Xander murmured, eyeing the collection of rubies, emeralds and diamonds. “I’d be willing to bet getting these back is more about their pride, though. The Ferrante brothers are notoriously sore losers.”

“I can’t just sit around here and wait,” Chaz growled. “What can we do?”

Xander put the gems back inside the bag and handed them to Chaz. “Hold that thought.”

He grabbed his laptop and sat down at the small kitchen table. The others gathered around as he opened it up.

“Thanks to one of my contacts, I have the FBI’s most current list of properties that can be traced back to the Ferrante brothers.” He pulled up a map of the United States covered in at least thirty red dots and zoomed in on Upstate New York. “Of course, this isn’t everything. But check this out. They own a lake house less than half an hour from here.”

Everything inside Chaz buzzed. It was the perfect spot to take Lottie. “Let’s go,” he said.

“Do you have a plan?” Brand asked.

“Yeah, get my girl.”

Xander raised a brow. “Did I miss something?”

“I love Lottie and she’s mine,” Chaz clarified gruffly. “Now can we stop wasting time and find her so I can return my woman to her little girl?”

“You heard the man. Grab all the gear and we’ll figure it out on the way,” Brand said.

“This might not be as in and out as we’d like,” Jayson reminded them. “Don’t forget those mercs.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Chaz growled.

“Mercs?” Xander echoed.

“Yeah, he sent a team of professionals to get Lottie,” Corey said. “We weren’t expecting flashbangs and machine guns.”

“Motorcycles, too,” Lex added.

A scowl creased Xander’s forehead. “I think we need a better plan than let’s-figure-it-out-on-the-way.”

“There’s always Plan B,” Brand said, and Xander rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, blow shit up,” Chaz said. “Now let’s go!”

“Christ,” Xander swore, shoving a hand through his hair. “When are you guys going to realize blowing shit up isn’t an actual plan?”

“Sure, it is,” Lex said with a smirk.

“How?” Xander asked in exasperation.

“It provides a great fucking distraction,” Chaz said, opening a duffel bag to reveal explosives. The former agent merely shook his head as they grabbed their gear and headed out.

After stowing their equipment in the back of the SUV, they all climbed inside. Chaz’s nerves were strung tight, but he’d never been more focused on a goal. On the ride, Xander pulled up the lake house’s schematics, including square footage, number and location of rooms, and all accessible points including doors and windows.

“That’s a lot of square footage to cover,” Brandon said.

“No other buildings on the property?” Corey asked. “Barn? Shed? Outbuilding? Guesthouse?”

“No,” Xander answered.

“We need to draw the mercs away from the house,” Jayson said thoughtfully.

Lex nodded. “Yeah, then a couple of us can go in and search for Lottie.”

“I’m going in,” Chaz stated. There was no way he was going to play cat and mouse with a bunch of mercs when Lottie needed him.

“I’ll go with him,” Brand said. “The rest of you need to keep those mercs busy.”

“Roger that.” Corey looked over at Chaz. “How many explosives do we have?”

“Enough to blow that lake house and its surrounding neighbors sky high.”

They bumped knuckles.

◆◆◆

Time seemed to be crawling by and eventually Lottie sat down on the bed, setting the lamp beside her. She was normally patient and calm, but under the circumstances, she was unsure and on edge. Assuming Chaz and the others had no idea where to find her, she had to face the fact she was on her own.

Outside, the sun was setting. It was probably a lovely view from the front windows facing the lake, but her window faced the back of the property. A chill ran through her and she’d never felt so alone.

Maybe she should jump. Standing up, she walked over to the window and gauged the distance down to the ground. It looked even further away than before. Letting out a sigh, she knew she might not have another opportunity to escape.

“Shit,” she whispered. With thoughts of Reya and Chaz encouraging her, she tried opening the window again, but the damn thing was sealed shut. Breaking it was her only option. Maybe she could throw the chair through it. That would certainly send someone up there—most likely Manhandler—and then when he opened the door, she’d knock him out with the lamp.

Not feeling at all confident in her shaky plan, she turned to grab the chair when a series of distant explosions rocked the house. Spinning back around, she pressed her palms to the glass, eyes widening at the black smoke rising from the trees.

Her heart soared and she knew without a doubt, Chaz and his team had come for her.

Suddenly, shouts and the pounding of boots echoed throughout the house. In moments, three of Ferrante’s men raced across the rear of the property and disappeared into the woods. That left two men and Ferrante himself—her odds of escape had just increased in her favor.

For several long minutes, she waited, attention focused on the woods. More explosions erupted and she prayed that Chaz and the others were safe. The sound of voices in the hallway snagged her attention and she grabbed the lamp, racing over to the door.

Positioning herself on the side of the doorframe, out of view, she lifted her pathetic weapon and waited. As soon as she heard the lock click open, she tightened her grip on the base, and the moment the figure moved into the room, she swung with all her might.

Bullseye . Manhandler went down with a surprised groan and she hopped over his body, racing into the hallway. Heading toward the staircase, she skidded to an abrupt halt when she saw Ferrante appear on the landing.

Dammit! Not getting down that way. Spinning around, she took off, not knowing where she was going, but determined to get the hell out of there. Unfortunately, the only way out…was up. Without a choice, her feet hit the staircase that would lead her up to the third floor.

“Get back here!” Ferrante roared, chasing after her. Luckily, he was bigger and much slower. She imagined he didn’t do a lot of his own chasing after people. Maybe all those days chasing her toddler would increase her odds of escape just a bit more.

Lottie reached the attic level, and using her small body and speed to her advantage, she began weaving through boxes, old furniture and other storage, heading straight for the far doors that she hoped would lead onto the roof. If she could climb out on it, maybe scale over to the other side, she could escape Ferrante. Because there was no way he’d follow her. His overweight, uncoordinated ass would roll right off. She’d read “Humpty Dumpty” quite a few times to Reya and knew how the story ended.

Halfway through the maze of old, dusty junk, she saw a weapon worth grabbing. A shadow box held a hunting knife along with a picture of the poor deer it probably killed. Poor, innocent animal. She wouldn’t be surprised if it was the one hanging on the wall downstairs.

Swiping up the box, she kept running, not daring to glance behind her. When she reached the doors, she twisted the lock with a shaking hand and threw them open. A cool breeze touched her cheeks and she stepped out onto a flat patio with lounge chairs, surrounded by a railing made of glass panels. There was a gorgeous view of the lake beyond. She’d lucked out and stumbled onto a sunbathing deck.

No time to enjoy the view, though. Lifting the box, she brought it down hard, smashing it against the concrete, and then grabbed the knife inside. Shaking off the clinging shards, she ignored the way they stung her hand, lifted the weapon and spun around.

Donato Ferrante stepped onto the deck, slightly out of breath, his face twisted with fury, and a gun in his hand. Lottie’s heart dropped, her grip tightening around the knife’s hilt. Helmet Head’s words reverberated through her mind.

A knife is no good in a gunfight, blondie.

Moving back, she tried to figure out what to do next because, dammit, she wasn’t dying up there on that rooftop. She had too much to live for. Her rear end bumped the glass and she glanced down. It was a long drop. If she jumped, she’d end up with more than a few broken bones. She’d probably wind up with a broken neck.

Swallowing down her nerves, she met Ferrante’s cold, blank stare. “You’re making this way harder than it should’ve been,” he said. “But, I suppose it was always going to end the same way for you as it did with your ex.”

Behind her, more explosions ripped through the air. C’mon, Chaz. Where are you?

“I said I’d give you the gems back,” she said.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll get my gems back. But you know too much and I can’t have loose ends in my line of work.”

He was so confident, so smug in the fact he’d already won. And that was his downfall.

Men like Donato Ferrante enjoyed seeing other people’s fear. It made them feel invincible. In charge. And that could also make them vulnerable. So Lottie decided to play into that. Pulling in a deep, steadying breath, she let him continue his intimidation tactics, preparing herself for the moment she would strike.

Because one wrong move on her part and it would all end with the pop of a bullet. Most likely, right between her eyes.