"Talk to me."
"The cameras show multiple vehicles." Knox's voice carries the clipped efficiency of someone reporting from a battlefield. "Shooters positioning on the south property line, more on the north. West exit is still clear but they're moving to close it. You've got maybe a couple of minutes before the place is surrounded."
"Copy. We're heading to my cabin. Keep your eyes on this neighborhood. Let me know if they move."
"Roger that." Knox pauses. "Jesse? She's really with you?"
"Yeah."
"Does she know who you are?"
"She knows."
"And she hasn't shot you yet?"
"She tried. I'll fill you in later." I disconnect before he can ask more questions and focus on Raven.
"That was my brother Knox. He's been watching the cartel position. He confirms multiple vehicles and shooters in tactical formation. We leave now or we die here, and so do a lot of innocent people on this street."
Raven doesn't move. Doesn't lower the gun. Just stands there in Carmichael's safe house with those dark eyes locked on mine, weighing her options. Trust the man who destroyed her life or take her chances with a cartel assassination team.
"How do I know you're not working with them?" Her voice stays level, but I hear the razor edge underneath. "How do I know this isn't another setup?"
"You don't." Honesty is the only card I have left. "But if I wanted you dead, I could have let you deal with that ambush at the Pritchard ranch alone. Hell, I could have stood back and let these guys breach this door and put two in your skull before you knew they were here."
"Maybe you want something worse than dead."
"Or maybe I made a promise to your uncle a long time ago, and I don't break promises. Not the ones that matter."
"Uncle Martin's been gone a long time."
"Not that uncle."
Recognition crosses her face. Eyes widening, lips parting. "Robert sent you."
"Carmichael called in a favor. He told me you were coming to Fredericksburg, asked me to keep you alive if things went sideways." I gesture toward the window where shadows move across the street. "Things went sideways at the Pritchard ranch. They're getting worse here by the second."
"Why didn't he tell me?"
"Because you would have refused protection from anyone, especially me. He knew I was the only one close enough to get here before the cartel did."
Glass shatters somewhere deeper in the house. It sounds like the back bedroom. Boots hit wood. They're not bothering with quiet entry anymore. Time's up.
Raven's jaw sets. "If you're lying to me..."
"You can kill me after we survive the next few minutes." I cross the kitchen in long strides, grab her free hand, and pull her toward the rear door. "Move."
She comes with me this time. Doesn't fight or argue. Just follows as I unlock the back door and push it open. My truck sits in the alley, positioned for a fast exit with reinforced panels, bullet-resistant glass, and enough firepower hidden in the cab compartments to outfit a small tactical team.
"Get in." I practically shove her toward the passenger door.
"Wait. My laptop. My files. The evidence from the Pritchard ranch. They'll see everything."
"Leave it." I round the hood and slide behind the wheel as voices echo from inside the safe house. Spanish, urgent, calling for backup. "Whatever you left behind isn't worth dying for."
"Those files prove?—"
"They prove you were here. They prove you've been investigating. And in about thirty seconds, they prove exactly where you're vulnerable." I start the engine and kill the interior lights. "You want justice? Stay alive. Everything else can be replaced."
