Page 12

Hunt

When I knock on Kade’s front door, solid oak vibrates under my fist. A second later, heavy boots shuffle on the other side.

“Gurion?” The bass voice exits a hi-tech smart bell.

Facing the device, I lean in. “Affirmative.”

Locks click, bolts slide, then sharp, assessing eyes meet mine. The man’s built like a boulder, all thick shoulders and an immovable presence. Dark circles under his eyes tell me he hasn’t slept much, either.

“Come in. Coffee? You look like shit, by the way.” His rough voice contains no hostility, only exhaustion.

“I was about to say the same about you.” I step inside, scanning the space from habit. Military-neat, there’s nothing out of place. The functional furniture consists of stiff-backed chairs and a leather couch from the seventies. The walls contain no unnecessary decorations. This domain belongs to a man prepared for war.

I stay near the entrance, shifting my weight, keeping one ear tuned for any signs of Mack in the house. “I need to speak to you about your niece. She here?”

He nods, moving toward the kitchen. “Figured you might stop by.”

While I follow, my spidey senses tingle. My mind replays the grainy footage of the bastard who threatened the girl in the restaurant.

I don’t believe in coincidences.

“I spied John Bourdin last night in the woods.” I keep my tone steady, but the tension in my shoulders gives me away. “Transporting Farsi-speaking men across the border.”

Kade snorts, shaking his head as he pours two cups of joe. “Fish and Wildlife, my ass.”

“Funny enough, I’m only supposed to count noncitizens.” Having stayed up all night, I gladly take the offered stimulant.

As I drink deep, he exhales sharply, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Jesus.”

My head shakes side to side. “I don’t think He has anything to do with this. I only want to ensure the girl is safe before taking action.”

A flicker of respect shifts his expression. Setting down his cup, he strides to the fridge. There, he stops, grunts, and shoves it aside. My muscles tense, my hand hovering near my concealed weapon.

Holy fuck. He has a locked steel door embedded in the wall. Kade punches in a code. One soft beep later, the latch disengages. He swings it open, revealing an arsenal that would make a doomsday prepper jealous. Alongside pistols, shotguns, and a high-end compound bow, there’re knives capable of skinning a bear.

“Expecting WWIII?” My attention locks onto the military-grade rifles lining the back wall.

Kade doesn’t blink. “Aren’t you?”

His certainty reminds me of the survivalist group I helped extract Axel’s wife from last fall. They held the same determined stare in their eyes—people who’d decided the world was going to hell and needed to be ready.

I sip my scalding hot coffee, allowing the bitter brew to twist my innards. Mack might be safe for now. However, her security could change at any moment.

Eyes on the dangerous man, I lean back in my chair. “I’m more of an optimist.”

“So am I. I’m also a realist and a just-in-case kind of guy.” When Kade raises his brows, I recognize Kelly’s unwavering, determined jaw.

I let a slow whistle slide through my teeth. This conversation is not going as well as I planned. “You need to tell your sister to stand down.”

As his left eye twitches, a jaw muscle jumps. “I hate to tell you, but she’s already in it. Deep.”

“If she continues to ignore things, she should be fine.”

His nostrils flare. “That’s what you think? If so, you’re dumber than I thought.”

“So, fill me in.” While I wait for him to decide, Kade checks the clock.

“This is going to take more than coffee. Mack needs a ride to school in an hour.” Hopping up, he pulls a bottle of Kentucky bourbon from the top of the fridge.

My mug out, I nod. “Okay, I’m listening.”

After splashing amber liquid in both cups, he runs his hand over his closely cropped hair. “It was last summer. Dante, her boss, called me to the hospital. Kelly had been beaten up. Bad.”

His neck muscles twitch while he takes a beat to recover. “When I asked what the hell happened, no one would tell me shit. All I know is she was never the same.”

As he speaks, I grip the coffee cup so hard, it’s a miracle it doesn’t break apart.

“I waited until she came home, then pushed. Told her she needed to process it. We shared words.” He snorts bitterly, mouth twisted.

“Suffering from PTSD myself, I told her not to bottle it up. Wouldn’t you know, she threw it back in my face—pot calling the kettle and so forth.” He allows the heavy silence to stretch between us while my pulse thunders in my ears.

“The doctor wouldn’t say, but I suspect… well… more.” His gaze lifts to my face, lizard eyes gauging my reaction.

Sucker punched with a sledgehammer, I swallow hard. My memory flashes to the first time I kissed her. She didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away…I thought it was normal—her taking control, setting the pace. Thank God I didn’t push.

Kade exhales roughly. “Whatever happened, she doesn’t want to appear vulnerable, and professionally?” He shakes his head. “She’s got way too much pride.”

Hissing, I unclench my back teeth. “She doesn’t remember, does she?”

“No.” His eyes darken. “They found Rohypnol in her system.”

I go still. The bastard roofied her.

“Was it Bourdin?” My fists curl against my thighs, and it takes everything in me not to launch the coffee cup across the room.

Shifting in his chair, Kelly’s brother turns his head toward his arsenal. “I can’t be sure. She refused to press charges.”

Unspoken words hang between us. If I’d been in his shoes, I’d have torn the motherfucker apart.

“I got pissed.” Kade makes a fist, then releases it. “Probably didn’t handle it well. She’s my fucking sister, for chrissakes.” His voice cracks slightly before he turns away.

Once he gathers his composure, he exhales through his nose. “Dante said he’d handle it. Kept her out of fieldwork and put her on vehicle crossings instead. She’s got her job, her insurance, and her daughter has been safe… until you showed up.”

I meet his eyes. “Say the word. I’ll make sure the pedophile suffers.”

Mackenzie’s uncle lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Why do you think I haven’t already?”

Not wanting to guess, I remain silent.

“No proof, bro, no proof.” When his eyes glisten, I turn away, giving him a moment to recover.

Afterward, I refill my coffee, my hands still shaking. Slate told me to do the right thing, but what the hell? How am I supposed to know? One thing’s clear, I can’t leave Kelly on her own.

Standing, I stretch out my hand. “Thanks for telling me.”

Grip firm, voice steel, he rises from his chair. “I didn’t do it for you.”

Traces of his earlier emotion now gone, his brows furrow. “I see how she looks at you. Hurt her, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

“I won’t.” I meet his stare head-on. “You have my word.”

Later, back at my hotel, I review my last few days. How do I keep my job, protect the O’Malley’s, and figure out why Iranians are sneaking into Vermont?

In my experience, the tip of an iceberg can hide a much larger disaster. While I pray the other northern states are not experiencing a similar migration, my pessimistic gut prepares for battle.