Page 10 of Ranger’s Justice (Lone Star Wolf Rangers #1)

CHAPTER 9

CASSIDY

“ C assidy, you’re with Dalton and Gideon, Deacon and Gage, you’re with me.”

I stop dead in my tracks, crossing my arms over my chest, glaring at Rush like I can somehow will him to change his mind.

“I’m going with you,” I say, firm, unwavering.

Rush doesn’t even glance up as he checks the magazine on his Glock before snapping it back into place. “No, you’re not.”

I grind my teeth, stepping closer, not giving a damn that every member of his team is staring at us. “You’re splitting us up, why? You don’t think I can handle it?”

Rush finally lifts his head, his storm-gray eyes locking onto mine. “No, I don’t think you can stay out of trouble.”

“Bullshit.”

Dalton chuckles from where he’s leaning against the doorframe. “She’s got you there, boss.” Rush’s glare slides toward him, and Dalton throws up his hands. “Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just saying she’s survived a gunfight with the cartel. Might be a pain in the ass, but she’s got instincts.”

I whip my head toward Dalton. “Oh, wow. High praise. ‘Might be a pain in the ass?’”

Dalton grins. “Gotta call it like I see it, sweetheart.”

I turn back to Rush. “I can help. I should be with you.”

“No,” he says, with a finality I’m sure he thinks will end this argument.

I plant my hands on my hips. “You can’t just…”

“Yes, I can.” Rush steps into my space, and despite my resolve, my body reacts. The heat of him, the scent of leather and whiskey, the sheer presence of him—it’s a force all its own. “You’re going with Dalton and Gideon. They need your brain, Marlow. You’re the one who found the financials. We need more. If there’s a connection between Hollister and the cartel’s trafficking, you’re the only one who’s going to find it.”

I shake my head. “That’s an excuse. You just want me out of your sight.”

His jaw flexes, his nostrils flaring. “You’re wrong. I never want you out of my sight.” He leans in, his breath hot against my ear, his voice just low enough that only I can hear. “The problem is if I see you in the middle of another firefight, I won’t be able to think straight.”

A shiver runs down my spine, and I hate he knows it. I hate that he can pull a reaction from me with nothing more than a few words and the gravel of his voice.

Dalton lets out a long whistle. “Damn. Should we put this op off? Do you two need a little more time in Rush’s room, or are we good to roll out?”

Rush steps back, straightens his shoulders, and jerks his chin toward the door. “Go.”

Gideon is already moving, his usual silent presence barely more than a shadow. Dalton grins, motioning toward the door like he’s inviting me into some grand adventure. “Come on, princess. Let’s go dig through some dirty money.”

I shoot one last glare at Rush, knowing damn well I’ve lost this fight. “This isn’t over,” I mutter before storming over to the SUV where Gideon is standing.

Rush’s response is a low growl that follows me all the way to the SUV.

Dalton drives, because of course he does. He has the radio on some classic rock station, humming along to an old Lynyrd Skynyrd song as if we aren’t heading straight into cartel business.

I sit in the backseat with a laptop open, tapping into my company’s servers through a secure line and hacking into Hollister’s firm. I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for, but I know Hollister. I don’t have time to cover my tracks in Hollister’s system. Fortunately, as far as I can tell, no one at Marcus’s company is involved. If Hollister is involved in human trafficking, there’ll be a paper trail somewhere.

“You finding anything yet?” Dalton asks over his shoulder.

I don’t look up. “It’s not that simple.”

Dalton glances at Gideon. “That means no.”

Gideon doesn’t respond. He seems to be the strong, silent type.

I roll my eyes and refocus on the screen. Someone has buried Hollister’s financials under layers of shell corporations, offshore accounts, and subsidiaries that don’t officially exist. It’s the kind of money laundering that takes years to perfect. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost be impressed by their work.

“Damn,” I mutter under my breath.

Dalton raises an eyebrow at me through the rearview mirror. “That a good damn or a bad damn?”

“Depends on whether or not you like human traffickers.”

Dalton’s expression darkens. “What’d you find?”

I angle the laptop so they can see the screen. “See these transactions? They look like routine shipping invoices—oil, gas, standard commodities. But if you adjust the exchange rates on certain dates and match them to known cartel activity, the numbers change. These aren’t business expenses. They’re people.”

Dalton’s jaw tightens. “You sure?”

I nod. “Positive. Hollister isn’t just laundering the money. He’s financing transport routes. He’s in deep.”

Gideon finally speaks. “How deep?”

I meet his gaze. “Enough that when this comes out, it won’t just be cartel retaliation he has to worry about. The entire federal government will be after his head.”

Gideon laughs. “He’ll be lucky if it’s just the cartel and the feds. Word on the street is Cerberus is after traffickers. One of their guys has a sister that’s missing.”

“Cerberus?” I ask. “The black ops group?”

Gideon nods.

Dalton lets out a low whistle. “Damn. And here I was thinking Hollister was just a regular old corrupt businessman.”

I shake my head, my stomach twisting with something cold. “No. This isn’t just greed. This is something else. Hollister doesn’t need the money. He’s worth billions already. He’s doing this for power. Influence. Leverage over the kind of people even the cartel fears.”

Dalton says nothing for a long moment, then finally mutters, “Rush is gonna lose his shit.”

Yeah. He is. And this time, I can’t blame him.

I take a steadying breath and lean back against the seat, staring at the information on my screen. It’s all here—proof, undeniable, devastating. This isn’t just about money laundering or business deals gone wrong. This is a full-blown criminal empire, one with a reach that extends far beyond what I ever imagined.

I should feel satisfied. I should feel like I finally have the evidence I need to take Hollister down, but all I feel is sick. Because if Hollister is willing to traffic human beings, if he’s willing to sell people like commodities, then he’s not just dangerous, he’s evil.

And men like that? They don’t just go down without a fight.

Dalton drums his fingers against the steering wheel, his usual easy-going nature stretched thin as he glances at my laptop screen again. Gideon, sitting silently in the passenger seat, hasn’t said a word in the last five minutes, which seems about right for him.

I know when people are hiding things. It’s part of my job—reading between the lines, picking up on subtle movements in body language, tracking inconsistencies. And right now? These two are holding back.

I sit back in my seat, crossing my arms. “Okay. Someone start talking. Now.”

Gideon finally speaks, his voice low, even. “It’s not just Hollister.”

I blink. “What?”

Dalton sighs, gripping the wheel tighter. “Hollister’s not the one calling the shots. He’s just a cog in a bigger machine.”

I glance between them, frustration climbing higher. “And you were planning to mention that when, exactly?”

Gideon turns to me, his icy blue gaze sharp, assessing. “We needed proof first.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, you needed proof. But when I brought this up before, Rush dismissed it, saying I didn’t have enough.”

Dalton shrugs. “He wasn’t wrong.”

My mouth drops open. “You—are you serious right now? I literally just proved Hollister is bankrolling human trafficking routes for the cartel, and you’re telling me I don’t have enough?”

Dalton holds up a hand, trying to placate me. “What you found is solid. But we knew there was more at play. This isn’t just about the cartel or Hollister. This goes higher than we thought.”

I shake my head. “Higher than a billionaire with government contracts and cartel connections? What the hell are we dealing with?”

Again, the look. The flicker of something between them, something unspoken.

I snap the laptop shut and set it aside. “Okay, that’s it. Someone needs to explain why the hell I feel like I’m being handled.”

Dalton turns fully in his seat, his hazel eyes flicking over me like he’s trying to gauge just how much I can take. “You’re not being handled, sweetheart.”

I shoot him a glare. “Don’t call me sweetheart when you’re clearly keeping something from me.”

Dalton chuckles under his breath, but it’s forced. “You really don’t enjoy being left in the dark, do you?”

“No, I don’t. So stop stalling and tell me what the hell is going on.”

Gideon’s jaw tightens, his expression unreadable. “It’s not our call.”

I throw my hands in the air. “Of course it’s not. Because everything in my life lately has to go through Rush first, right? The man who’s apparently incapable of giving me a straight answer.”

Dalton leans back, stretching out his legs, completely unbothered. “You ever think maybe he’s trying to protect you?”

My stomach clenches. I ignore it. “I don’t need protecting.”

Gideon makes a quiet sound—almost a scoff, though he never loses his cool enough to outright mock anyone. “You have no idea what you need.”

That stings. More than I want to admit.

I square my shoulders. “Try me.”

Dalton exhales, running a hand over his face. “Look, Cassidy, it’s not that we don’t trust you?—”

“That’s exactly what this is,” I snap. “You’re keeping things from me, and I don’t like it.”

Gideon tilts his head, considering. “You weren’t supposed to be involved.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, well, tough shit. I am involved. So tell me—why do I feel that whatever I just uncovered is only scratching the surface?”

Neither of them speaks.

The silence stretches, the only sound the steady hum of the SUV’s engine. I clench my jaw, barely resisting the urge to slam the laptop shut again just for the sake of doing something.

“I know about the wolves,” I finally say, watching their reactions closely. “I know about Rush.”

Dalton’s grin fades just slightly, his fingers drumming against his knee. “Do you?”

I narrow my eyes. “I saw him shift, or transform, or whatever you want to call it.”

Gideon’s eyes flick toward the window, scanning the perimeter, his body still as stone. “And?”

I shake my head. “And I don’t know what that means. But you do.”

Dalton sighs, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “This really isn’t our call.”

I glare. “You already said that.”

“Because it’s true,” Gideon mutters.

I huff out a breath, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You’re telling me you work for a secret unit of Texas Rangers who are also wolf-shifters, and that’s not something you think I should have some basic information on?” I throw my hands up. “You have actual fangs, Dalton.”

He winks. “Some women like that.”

I groan, leaning back against the seat. “I cannot stand you.”

Dalton grins, but Gideon interrupts, his voice quieter, more measured. “You saw him shift. You know there’s more to us than what you thought.”

I nod. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Gideon studies me for a long moment, then shakes his head. “That’s enough for now.”

My stomach drops. “What?”

Dalton sighs. “You know more than you should already. But there are rules. Things we can’t just tell you, Marlow.”

I scoff. “Says who?”

Dalton taps his temple. “The people who make it our job to clean up messes like this.”

A cold sensation crawls down my spine. “You mean… you have orders?”

Gideon doesn’t blink. “We always have orders.”

I look between them, heart hammering. “And what happens if I don’t stop asking questions?”

Dalton’s easy grin fades. “That depends.”

“On what?”

Gideon’s expression is unreadable. “On whether Rush decides to make you one of us.”

The statement hits like a bullet straight to my chest. I don’t know what that means, not really. But the way he says it—the quiet finality, the weight behind the words—tells me that whatever this game is, I just stepped onto the board without knowing the rules.

And Rush? Rush is the only one who can decide whether I get to keep playing.

Dalton watches me, his usual easy-going nature dimmed by something sharper. He’s not laughing now. Neither is Gideon.

I swallow, my throat dry. “You think I don’t understand? Try me.”

Dalton sighs, stretching his arms along the back of his seat like this is just another casual conversation, but I’m not fooled. His body is too still, his gaze too watchful. “You ever wonder why Rush tried to keep you at arm’s length, sweetheart?”

I stiffen at the nickname, but this time, I don’t snap at him for it. “Because he’s stubborn and overprotective?”

Dalton tilts his head, the ghost of a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth before vanishing. “That’s part of it. But the bigger reason? You’re human.”

Something heavy settles in my chest. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Gideon fidgets in the passenger seat, his eyes flicking to me before looking away. “Everything.”

Dalton leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You think it’s just about keeping you safe from Hollister and the cartel? That if we take down the right players, you can go back to your life like none of this happened?”

I swallow, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “That’s the goal, isn’t it?”

Dalton lets out a low chuckle, but there’s no humor in it. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Frustration bubbles up inside me. “Then explain it. Because I’m sick of all the cryptic warnings and secret looks. If you’re going to tell me I’ve stumbled into something I can’t walk away from, then say it.”

Dalton exchanges a look with Gideon, and this time, it’s longer. It’s a conversation without words, an agreement before either of them speaks. It pisses me off more than I want to admit.

Gideon is the one who finally answers. “Rush is already walking a fine line with you.”

My stomach clenches. “What does that mean?”

Dalton sighs, running a hand over his face. “You saw what he is. What we are. That’s not something people just… walk away from. The more you know, the harder it is to keep you out of it.”

I shake my head. “You’re saying if I dig too deep, I become a liability.”

Dalton’s lips press into a thin line. “Not our word and not our belief. If Rush trusts you, then so do we, but yeah, for others, it could be a problem.”

Anger flares through me, hot and sharp. “So what? I just pretend none of this is real? Pretend Rush isn’t a…”

Gideon’s gaze snaps to mine, sharp as a blade. “Be careful what you say, Cassidy.”

I close my mouth, biting down on the rest of my words. The air in the SUV is thick, heavy with things I don’t understand. Things they won’t tell me.

Dalton exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, you’re smart. You’re damn good at what you do. But there are things in this world you aren’t ready to handle. If Rush had his way, you’d be sipping a margarita in Mexico right now, blissfully unaware of what’s hunting you.”

My stomach twists. “But I didn’t run.”

Gideon nods, something unreadable in his expression. “Which means you’re already in too deep.”

I shake my head, trying to push past the warning in his tone, trying to focus. “We still have a job to do. Hollister is connected to the cartel’s trafficking routes. We have proof now. That has to mean something.”

Dalton’s gaze flicks to the laptop. “It means we’re running out of time.”

Something in his voice makes my skin prickle. Before I can press for more, my phone buzzes against the center console. It’s not my personal phone—Rush confiscated that already. It’s the burner they gave me.

I grab it, my stomach already in knots. “Yeah?”

Rush’s voice is sharp, all business. “Stop what you’re doing.”

I sit up straighter. “What’s going on?”

“No time. We’ll regroup at the rendezvous point I’m sending you ASAP. We’re on a ridge right above a semi that’s supposed to be transporting cargo—and I use that word advisedly—for the cartel. Let me know when you’re five minutes out.”

Dalton’s expression darkens as he listens. “Bad?”

“No way of telling, but it sure as hell can’t be good.”

A chill runs down my spine. I grip the phone tighter. “Rush…”

“Now, Cassidy.”

The line goes dead.

Silence stretches inside the SUV. I glance at Dalton, then Gideon. Neither of them wastes a second.

Dalton throws the SUV into gear, peeling out onto the road so fast the laptop nearly slides off my lap. I clutch it, heart pounding.

Gideon already has his gun in his lap, checking the magazine, his gaze scanning the road like he expects company.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “What the hell just happened?”

Dalton’s jaw clenches. “We’re about to find out.”

Something about the way he says it makes the knots in my gut twist even tighter.

Whatever Rush found, whatever made him sound like that?—

It’s coming for us.