Page 49 of Herding Cat

“In the warehouse, with the other man.” She grasped his shirt with a death grip. “He has a gun. Please, Garrett. Don’t let him kill her.”

“Damn straight.” He glanced up at Tate and Luke and, without words, they each knew their jobs. Garrett would go after Mae, Tate would protect Cat and Luke would remain at the door providing cover for both of them.

Panic raced through his blood as he stepped back into the warehouse. It was the scene from a disaster movie, with flaming missiles peppering the high ceiling and walls. The eruptions seemed to walk down the rows of stockpiles one after the other. Every now and again a massive boom shook the entire building. And all the while, flaming chunks of the roof rained down.

But Mae was nowhere to be seen.

He hoped to God she wasn’t hiding.

That could kill them both.

He quartered the warehouse as best he could, through the smoke and flames, but he didn’t see a hint of the little girl. His anxiety rose. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t let her die.

He didn’t know why he felt so responsible for her, why he ached to be the one to save her and keep her safe forever, but he did. Yeah, he’d never wanted a child, but if he ever had one, he would want it to be her.

He knew this deep in his soul.

But that only intensified his anguish when she was nowhere to be found.

Then he heard something above the crackle, pop and wails of munitions. Not Mae. A man. His deep voice rumbled from the left. “Come here, you little brat. I swear, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Fury screamed through Garrett’s gut and, as a large shadow loomed up in front of him, he attacked. He took the man from behind and by surprise, so he didn’t have a chance to fight back, but that was no reason to take it easy on him.

Blow by blow, he battered this beast and with each strike, he bellowed, “Don’t. Use. Bad. Language. Around. Children.”

By the time his reprimand was finished, the bastard was on the floor.

Garrett picked up his Glock and cleared the chamber then looked around. “Mae?” he called. “Mae? Are you here?”

To his unending relief, a small, impish and familiar face peeped out from behind a pallet that had not yet blown up.

“Come here, darling,” he said, holding out his arms to her. She rushed toward him and his heart swelled. She was so precious. So beautiful. So innocent—

She stopped short before she reached him and peered down at the man who had been pursuing her. With no hesitation whatsoever, she hauled back and kicked him in the crotch. He was unconscious, but Garrett was certain he’d feel it later.

And then, of course, Mae flashed him an innocent smile and batted her lashes.

But there was hardly time to tarry. “We need to go. This whole building is on fire.”

“What about him?” she asked, pointing at the miscreant bleeding on the floor.

“I don’t care about him.”

“We can’t leave him here.”

Where on earth had she gotten such benevolent ideas? But she was stubborn, nearly as stubborn as Catherine, so he quickly grabbed a metal pushcart, lifted the fucker on—and he was damn heavy—then made tracks to the exit with one hand guiding the cart and the other holding Mae.

They burst out into the fresh air and Garrett sucked in a deep breath...then immediately coughed it out. He smelled of smoke and burned gunpowder and he was pretty sure his lungs were full of it.

Though he’d never mention his discomfort to Cat. She’d probably make him go back to the hospital.

Speaking of Cat...there she was. A little blurry and slightly rumpled, but she smiled tearily and ran toward him with her arms wide—

But then, when she reached him, she grabbed Mae. She hugged and kissed her manically, murmuring over and over again, “You’re safe. You’re safe. Oh, thank God, you’re safe.”

“I’m safe too,” he felt obliged to point out.

She turned to him with a crooked grin. “Big baby.” A whisper, but everyone heard.