Page 35

“T esting. Testing.” Liam had left earlier in the afternoon on a new case, so it was just Cooper at his six. It was going to be a quick in and out, so no problem.

“Copy,” Cooper said, verifying their comms were working. He was parked at the end of the street where he could see if Pressley unexpectedly returned.

Grayson had unlocked a window in a never-used bedroom at the back of the house earlier in the day. Clothed in all black, he made a stop in the garage, collected the keys to the three vehicles to keep Pressley from possibly escaping, and then he slipped though the dark to the window. “Still unlocked,” he quietly said after sliding it up.

“It spooks me when things go too easy,” Cooper responded.

“Shut your mouth. You’ll jinx us.”

Cooper chuckled. “Just saying.”

“Going in.” He pulled himself up and rolled through the window, landing quietly on his feet. “I’m in and going silent.” He checked that his gun was still tucked safely in the back of his waistband. He also had one in an ankle holster and a knife strapped to his belt. Not that he needed to be armed to the teeth for this little caper, but once a SEAL, always a SEAL, and a SEAL came prepared for the unexpected. No exceptions.

On silent feet, he moved through the house. Pressley’s home office was on the second floor, and as he made his way up the stairs, he was careful to avoid the steps he’d previously memorized that creaked.

The office door was closed, and he eased it open. The room was dark, which he’d expected. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. As he reached for the light switch, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Danger. Danger. Danger.

He’d heard that warning voice on many of his missions, and he always paid it heed. With his finger on the switch, he hesitated long enough to whisper “FUBAR,” knowing that would alert Cooper. Then he turned on the lights.

It was only because he’d been trained for years that he didn’t react at seeing Pressley standing in front of his office chair, a gun in his hand. The chair was turned away, but Grayson didn’t need to see who was sitting in it, hidden from him, to know it was Harlow.

He felt her, sensed her, smelled her fear.

Pressley was a dead man. He just didn’t know it yet. There was no sense in trying to come up with a reason he was sneaking into the man’s study late at night, so he stood at attention and waited for Pressley to make the first move.

“You got nothing to say?” Pressley said. “Like about why you’re here?”

Grayson shrugged. “Why bother? You won’t believe whatever excuse I try to come up with.” He let his gaze shift to the back of the chair. “Let her go, and I might let you live.”

“Her? This who you mean?” Pressley put his hand on the top of the chair and spun it around.

“Affirmative. And the boy.” Grayson was surprised his voice sounded normal. Rage like he’d never known turned his vision red at seeing Harlow and Tyler with duct tape over their mouths. She had her arms around Tyler as he slept against her chest. The boy’s cheeks were red and tear-stained. “And you call yourself a father,” he disdainfully said.

“Careful, Grayson . You don’t want to push me.”

Oh, but he did. Pressley would soon learn he had picked the wrong person to mess with. But first, “How do you know my name?” He was truly curious.

“Interesting that. Ava insisted you couldn’t be a Richie, and Delgado didn’t trust you. I decided to have a little chat with my wife. She was more than happy to give you up.”

Harlow shook her head. Even without her denial, he would have known she hadn’t been happy to. She’d been forced to. Just another reason Pressley wasn’t going to see tomorrow. And damn Ava and her fixation on his name.

He locked eyes with Harlow and winked, sending a message to Harlow that she and her son were going to be okay. He’d make sure of it. So far, Pressley was keeping the gun down by his side. The moment that changed, it would be time to act. But Grayson intended for this to end before Pressley decided it would be a good idea to point his weapon at anyone.

“I’m making my way inside,” Cooper said over the comms.

Grayson stepped farther into the room. “What do you want?” he asked Pressley.

“A long list of things.” Pressley chuckled. “But from you? Nothing, because you won’t be around much longer to be a threat.”

“Actually, I—” The air behind him changed, alerting him that someone was sneaking up on him. The stink of cigars wafted to him. Delgado was about to find out he wasn’t as clever as he thought.

What most people didn’t realize, if you were going to use a gun against someone, never come within striking distance. A trained warrior could disarm you before you could blink. He had no doubt Delgado had a weapon, and he could see in his mind how this was going to play out. So, he waited.

“Let Harlow and Tyler go, and I won’t hurt you too badly.”

Pressley laughed as his gaze settled behind Grayson.

Fool. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The moment he felt the barrel of Delgado’s gun touch his back, he spun, grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it, causing him to lose his grip on the weapon, while at the same time, he swept his leg behind Delgado’s knees, sending him to the floor with a heavy thud. Delgado grabbed Grayson’s leg, attempting to bring him down. Anticipating his move, Grayson twisted his body, extricating his leg from Delgado’s grasp.

Grayson snatched up the gun, then put his foot on Delgado’s chest and pressed down. “You move, you die.”

“I’m coming in,” Cooper said. “Don’t shoot me.”

“Copy.” When Cooper stepped next to him, Grayson handed him Delgado’s gun. “He’s all yours.” He leveled his gaze on Pressley, and his blood turned to ice. During the minute it took to remove Delgado as a threat, Pressley had dragged Harlow and Tyler out of the chair. He dared to hold a gun to her head. He was a dead man, all right.

“You really don’t want to do that, Mr. Pressley.”

“How about if I just shoot you?” He swung the gun from Harlow to Grayson.

Grayson shrugged. “You could, but you shoot me, my friend here will shoot you. Let them go.” Thankfully, Tyler was still sleeping through this, but Harlow’s eyes were wide with fear, and that just didn’t work for Grayson.

“I think it’s time to make our exit.” Pressley put the gun to her head again and moved behind her, using her as a shield. “Pick up my briefcase, wife.”

Grayson was getting really tired of the man calling her wife . Pressley knew if he pulled that trigger, he was a dead man, so Grayson wasn’t worried…yet. But leaving with Harlow and Tyler as hostages? Not happening.

“You try to follow me, and I’ll shoot her.” He poked Harlow in her head with the gun. “Get the briefcase.”

She gently lowered Tyler to the chair, then ripped the duct tape from her mouth, wincing as she did. “I can’t carry a briefcase and hold Tyler at the same time.”

“Figure out a way,” Pressley said.

“Unless you want to carry him, Tyler’s staying here.” She locked eyes with Grayson. Take care of my son, her eyes said.

He smiled. You know I will. She was both brave and smart. He’d already noted that the safe was open, and no way was Pressley leaving the briefcase behind.

“Get the damn briefcase,” Pressley snarled.

As soon as she picked up the briefcase, Pressley pulled her back to a door behind them.

“Stay with her son,” Grayson said after they were gone. “Call Sean, tell him what’s going on.” He went out the door he’d come in. It was a faster route to the garage than the way Pressley was going.

He was counting on Pressley being smart enough to not do something stupid, like hurting Harlow before he could get away. After that, though? All bets were off. Grayson had no intention of letting the man leave with her.

Tyler was safe now, so he only had one more person to rescue, and rescue her he would. He ran to the garage. The trick would be to herd Pressley to one of the cars. The Mercedes, he decided. It was the one Pressley drove the most, and there was more room in the back for Grayson to hide. He kept the keys to the Beemer and the Range Rover and returned the Mercedes’s key to the hook.

The SEAL’s motto ran through his mind as he crouched down behind the driver’s seat. The only easy day was yesterday. “Ain’t that the truth,” he muttered.

Not more than a minute later, the side door to the garage banged open.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Harlow said.

“Get in the damn car, Harlow, or I’ll shoot you right here,” Pressley roared as he jerked the driver’s side door open.

“No.”

Grayson needed her to get in the car, too, for his plan to work.

“Fine, we’ll stay here, and when your hero comes to rescue you, I’ll shoot him and then you.”

“I hate you,” she said as she got in and climbed over the console.

Pressley slid into the driver’s seat. “It didn’t have to be this way.” He pushed the garage door opener, and when it was up, he backed out.

“No, it didn’t,” she said. “But unfortunately, you turned out to be a lousy husband. A total jerk, actually.”

“Careful,” Pressley growled. “You don’t want to push me.”

No, but I do. He would make his move—ending this while the car was still going slow and before they got out on the highway—as soon as Pressley drove the car forward. He put his hands on the floorboard, ready to push up and attack.