Page 80 of Earning Her Trust

“It’s not about what I want.” Bear drew closer, his massive frame hunched against the rain. “Search and rescue protocol?—”

“I’m not search and rescue.” Ghost kept moving, gaze locked on the path ahead where Cinder’s black form melted into the darkness.

Bear muttered a curse, but his footsteps stayed close. Somewhere behind them, Greta’s voice crackled over a radio,calling in the other search teams. They’d been at this for nearly twelve hours.

“Ghost,” Bear tried again. “The horses are exhausted, and the dogs are losing the scent in this rain. We need to regroup, come up with a new strategy.”

“Cinder won’t lose the scent.”

That earned a frustrated exhale. “Look, I know you’re?—”

“I’m what?” Ghost rounded on him, voice low and dangerous. “Worried? Desperate? You think I don’t know the odds of finding her drop with every hour? With every minute of this fucking rain?” He jerked his chin toward the rest of the search party, their flashlights bobbing in the distance. “They can go back. You can go back. I’m not stopping. She is not going to end up dead in a ditch like Leelee.”

Bear held his gaze, then nodded once. “Alright. We keep going.”

Ghost turned away, unable to handle the understanding in the big man’s eyes. He whistled low, and Cinder materialized out of the darkness, ears perked, hackles still raised. That was a good sign. She was still on the trail.

“Find her,” he said simply, and the dog turned, continuing her methodical sweep.

The forest thickened as they moved east. Pines gave way to older growth, trees gnarled and massive, roots snaking across the path like veins on the back of a giant’s hand. The terrain grew steeper. Rain plastered Ghost’s shirt to his skin, but he didn’t feel it. He was beyond cold, beyond exhaustion.

He’d lost her. It was that simple.

He’d pushed her away when he’d caught her in a lie by omission because it was easier than facing what was between them. She’d walked away, and he’d let her, and now she was gone.

Every instinct in his body screamed that this was his fault. That he should have been there. Should have known.

Lightning split the sky, followed by a crack of thunder so close the air vibrated. In that momentary flash, he caught a glimpse of Cinder up ahead, suddenly alert, head raised, testing the wind. Then she was gone, a black bullet shooting through the trees.

“Cinder!” he hissed, breaking into a run. The dog never bolted without reason.

She’d found something.

Ghost drew the Glock from his holster, thumb on the safety, heart hammering against his ribs as he ran. Behind him, Bear shouted something, but it was lost in another roll of thunder. All that mattered was keeping Cinder in sight, following that flash of movement through the downpour.

The trees opened suddenly into a clearing. Ghost caught himself at the edge, dropping into a crouch, weapon up. Through the sheeting rain, he made out dark shapes—a truck, its engine idling. Two men, moving purposefully. And there—three figures being herded toward the vehicle.

Even through the rain, he recognized her immediately. Naomi. She was on her feet, half-carrying someone—a girl, maybe a teenager—while another figure stumbled beside them. Their captors shoved them forward, gesturing with guns. One of them grabbed Naomi roughly by the hair, yanking her head back.

Ice spread through Ghost’s veins.

Twenty yards. Two armed hostiles. Three unarmed civilians. No cover between here and there except darkness and rain. He’d made worse odds work.

He edged forward, keeping to the shadows, calculating trajectories and angles. He needed to get closer, needed a cleanshot that wouldn’t risk the women. The rain worked in his favor, muffling his footsteps, limiting visibility.

Something shifted in his peripheral vision. Ghost swung his weapon toward the movement, finger hovering above the trigger.

A silhouette materialized from the trees—tall, lean, deadly still.

Evander Cole.

“What the fuck?” Ghost said and lowered the weapon, but only slightly. He still didn’t trust this guy. “Thought you don’t leave your land.”

Cole grunted. “This mess is too close to my land for comfort.”

Just like that, they had an alliance.

Cole gestured with two fingers toward the far side of the clearing, then tapped his chest and pointed to the right. Ghost dipped his chin in acknowledgment. Cole would circle around. Ghost would take the near approach. Classic pincer movement.