Bull moved toward a stand of trees. It was far enough away from Kit’s hiding place return fire wouldn’t come near her but close enough to intervene if she needed protection.
A boulder-strewn cliff ledge about ten feet up was Hawk’s goal. Scraping the shit out of his arms, he scrambled up onto it.
Yeah, from here, he’d be damned difficult to spot.
He settled into the prone position with arms outstretched and a Glock 19 in his hand. He was slightly on his side, resting on his right lat, elbow in the dirt, cheek on his biceps. Good stability. Nice elevation. No wind.
Just in time.
Three bearded men carrying AR-15s jogged out of the forest, spotted the helicopter, and came to a full stop.
“What the fuck!” With angry shouts, the three brought their AR-15s up.
Hawk held his fire. Because good guys didn’t shoot first. Dammit to hell.
Something banged and rattled on the stones near the cave. Bull had tossed a rock to keep the bastards’ attention focused there.
The militia bastards simply opened fire. No talk. No warning.
Fuck.
Bullets peppered the cave and terrain around it. Anyone inside would’ve been torn to ribbons.
Hawk gritted his teeth. Mustn’t kill the assholes. Gabe’d get pissed. He’d go for shooting arms rather than head shots.
Acquiring a target, he breathed out, fired, acquired the next, fired. The two men dropped their rifles with shouts of pain.
With the deep boom of Bull’s Redhawk revolver, the third asshole went down. Yeah, the fist-sized hole from a .44 Magnum would do that.
One of Hawk’s targets proved stubborn and pulled an automatic with his other hand. The fucking asshat aimed for the helicopter.
Not. Happening. Hawk’s next shot destroyed the guy’s arm. Still pissed-off, Hawk considered shooting again and taking him right out of the gene pool.
But their courage broke. Two PZs fled back down the trail, carrying the third between them. If they were smart, they’d stop to bind up their wounds before they bled out.
Not his problem.
Knowing Hawk would remain on guard, Bull ran over to the trail opening. “Sounds like they’re still running,” he called to Hawk, then shouted loud enough for Caz to hear, “Clear, bro.”
Hawk holstered his Glock, slid off the ledge, and jogged to Kit’s boulder.
Brown eyes filled with fear, she still crouched where he had left her, watching his every move. Shaking, dead white, but maintaining position. He’d known soldiers who would’ve run.
He waited, letting his presence register, letting her get control. Wanting so fucking much to sweep her up and hold her. Let her know he’d protect her with everything inside him.
That would be a dumbass thing to do. “The bastards are gone.” Slowly, he bent and offered a hand.
Kit was shaking so hard it was hurting her ribs—and her knees felt like the joints had turned to pudding.
Hawk said something, and it took a few seconds for the words to make sense. Gone. The PZs were gone.
But she knew that, didn’t she? Unable to tolerate not seeing if someone was coming at her, she’d peeked around the edge of the boulder. Had seen the PZs spraying bullets. Could see Hawk lying flat and calmly shooting as if he was out for a lazy afternoon at a target range.
Under his fire, the militia men had staggered back, rifles dropping.
She’d watched them run.
They’d run.
“Need a hand?” The dark rasp cut across the memories.
She blinked. Swallowed. And reached up.
His big hand engulfed hers, the warmth wrapping around her icy fingers. He didn’t move. “Say when.”
She braced her ribs with her other arm. “Now.”
Carefully, slowly, he pulled her to her feet and gripped her waistband to steady her. “Okay?”
She looked up and met his calm, patient gaze. He’d tucked that violence away; only his concern for her remained. Unable to hold back, needing contact, she leaned against him. Still holding her hand, he didn’t even sway. He was all rock-hard muscles, broad shoulders, wide chest.
Her anchor. She could stay like this forever.
Instead, she pulled in a slow breath, stepped back, and managed to smile. “Thank you, Hawk.”
“Fuck,” he said under his breath, looking away.
He looked oddly disconcerted.
Well, that made two of them. She moved toward the forest. “Aric?”
“Caz’ll have him back in—”
And there was her boy, following the doc out of the forest. Aric saw her and charged forward, little legs pumping, and when he hit her legs like a rocket, she didn’t even care. He was all right.
She shed a few tears as she bent to hug him. “I love you, baby. Love you so much.”
Off to one side, the men were talking in low voices.
“Kit, time to get out of here.” Bull wiped blood off his face and caught her staring.
“Ricochet,” he said nonchalantly. “A few bullets hit my tree and sprayed me with bark.”
Dear heavens, the bullets could have hit him.
Don’t have hysterics. “You’re not going after them, are you?”
Bull shook his head. “No, we can’t leave you two here alone.”
Relief ran through her even as she puzzled it out. It would take one person to guard her and Aric—especially Aric—and another to shoot. And one person going after three didn’t sound wise, let alone how he’d get three wounded men out of the forest.
“Okay.” Her arms were refusing to let go of her boy. Reluctantly, she released him and straightened, and only then realized Hawk had his hand on her lower back. He’d been standing behind her the whole time, bracing her to keep her from being toppled over by Aric.
He took a step back, raising his hands as if he thought she might hit him.
A laugh broke from her. “Thanks. I’d probably have landed on my butt if you hadn’t been there.”
The sunlines beside his eyes crinkled. Then he nodded at Aric. “Good job hiding.”
Aric took a step closer to Hawk and confided, “There were cabrones here. Did you see ’em?”
Wasn’t that Spanish for bastard or something? Kit shot Caz a frown, and he winced.
“Yeah.” Hawk nodded gravely. “Cabrones. We chased ’em off.”
“With guns,” Aric agreed, then took Kit’s hand. “’S’okay, Mama. They’re gone now.”
It seemed Hawk and her son had both decided she needed to be protected. Fine, she’d give them that, but darned if she wasn’t going to learn to do something more productive than cower behind a rock. Even if the thought of action was terrifying.
Until then, she was surrounded by tough guys. Even her little blond one. She smiled at them. “I guess we can get moving, hmm?”
Chapter Six
Boy, everything you can put your hand on can be turned into a weapon. Use your fucking imagination. ~ First Sergeant Michael “Mako” Tyne
Hearing the thump-thump-thump of a helicopter landing outside the Hermitage, Gabe walked out his garage side door to see what was up. Hawk didn’t usually bring the helicopter home; it stayed at McNally’s Resort.
Bull and Caz jumped out. Gabe saw Aric and Kit still seated as Hawk strolled around.