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Afew hours later, Laila slept beside Trees, curled into a ball on her side, her back cuddled against his chest, one hand beneath her chin like a contented cat. He dropped his palm to her head, fingers stroking a curl from her cheek, knuckles gliding over her soft skin.

He wanted her here, by his side, forever. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her that he intended to put a ring on her finger and a baby in her belly ASAP. The urge wasn’t logical, which he usually was. Instead, it felt like a biological imperative, and Trees couldn’t explain why.

Was he trying to make a family now to replace the one he seemingly no longer had in West Virginia? No, he could pick up the phone and call home if he wanted to. It wasn’t as if they weren’t speaking to him. More like they didn’t have a use for him. Then why was he so consumed with the idea of making Laila Mrs. Scott?

Was this some possessive caveman thing? A bit. Maybe more than it should be. But a big part of him wanted to give her safety, security, comfort, love—all the things she’d never had. And in turn, she would give him something that, Zy excepting, he’d had very little of in life: acceptance.

From the time he’d been little, he’d been freakishly tall. As kids, other boys had avoided him. Girls had feared him. As a teenager, he’d been useful in pickup basketball games but not friendships. He’d been hungry for companionship and love. The opposite sex, now filling out bras and wearing makeup, had been a beautiful lure. They’d buzzed around him aplenty. At first, he’d loved it. He’d wanted a girlfriend. Then he realized they’d merely thought fucking him was something between a curiosity and a challenge.

As high school graduation approached, he’d taken a few college campus tours. He’d had the grades to go. He’d even been offered a basketball scholarship. But matriculating hadn’t been for him. Socializing with kids during his weekend campus visits? It had been the same everywhere he went. If his height and quiet nature hadn’t turned people away, being a poor miner’s kid had.

He’d joined the army instead. Easier. Safer. Less need to fit in. Not too long after that, he’d been blessed with Zy’s friendship. It had been great—more than enough, he’d told himself—for years. But since his bestie had paired off with Tessa…Trees had to admit he’d started yearning again for more.

Laila loved him. She’d nearly given her damn life to prove it.

He’d be an idiot to let her go.

But to keep her, he had to make sure she was safe—once and for all. Not for one minute was Trees naive enough to think that Laila was in the clear. Ramos still wanted her. And after she’d outed him to Montilla, the crazy son of a bitch would come after her for vengeance. Montilla had a use for her, too. Everyone knew Laila would do anything for her nephew. If the drug lord took her captive, he’d be one step closer to getting his hands on Jorge, the grandson he’d never met, supposedly to groom the toddler to someday take over his narcotics throne.

Everywhere he looked, Laila was in danger.

He’d also managed to dig himself a grave. Killing Victor’s brother, Hector, then taking Laila from the surviving Ramos brother had put a target on his back. Now Montilla had cause to want him dead, too. After all, he’d helped free Kimber from captivity and shot the son of a bitch.

He’d be an idiot not to realize that he had mountains to climb and obstacles to overcome before he and Laila could have any sort of future. But he was determined to do whatever he could to make that possibility a reality.

No more sitting at home, trying to solve this defensively. Time to play offense.

After slipping from bed, Trees donned a clean pair of boxers, then headed out to the kitchen. He didn’t bother turning on the lights. He had an uneasy feeling, like they were standing in the calm before a raging storm. If Matt or Ghost had encountered anything that looked like an intrusion, they would have told him…but Trees couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—probably multiple someones—was out there, just waiting for an unguarded moment.

With a sigh, he plopped down at the kitchen table and grabbed Victor Ramos’s phone. He launched Ramos’s Abuzz account without any prompt for a new password. The cartel had been using the social media platform Zy’s father had once owned and was now selling as a part of his imminent divorce. The chatter among Ramos’s contacts had died down over the past week, but there was still plenty of dirt.

The most recent post made his blood run cold.

As of a few days ago, a spy Ramos had inside Montilla’s organization had claimed el jefe was in a coma, but when he awoke, he would be out for Ramos’s blood. Victor had written back to ask if Montilla would consider their feud settled if he served up the cabrón who had shot him.

No reply, at least not one visible in the chat. But the message string gnawed at Trees. Ramos knew exactly where he lived. It was only a matter of time before he showed up. With Laila here, that made her vulnerable, too.

Sure, he could defend his property. He’d updated and equipped it to deal with most any possible apocalypse. But he’d never imagined he’d be fighting off a cartel and their criminal assets while trying to defend the woman he loved.

It was too much to risk. There was too much at stake. He’d examine the rest of the phone later. He had to get Laila to safety now.

Trees retrieved his own phone and flipped through his contacts. Which of his bosses would be the least difficult in this fucked-up situation? None of them, but he hoped Laila providing them Kimber’s location so the team could rescue their sister provided her some cred with the trio. Plus, her sister was paying them to keep her safe. That should mean something, too.

Finally, he settled on the brother who seemed most straightforward, least likely to waste time growling about the fact he was emotionally in deep with Laila, and quickest to help him come up with a plan.

He tapped the screen. Hunter Edgington answered on the first ring. Though he’d probably been asleep, his voice didn’t sound scratchy or slurred at all. “What’s up, Trees?”

“I think I have a situation. Or I will if Laila and I stay here.” He explained the contents of Victor’s Abuzz account in a few succinct sentences.

Hunter paused a fraction of a second, then jumped into action. “I agree. Pack up. Get ready to head out. Matt and Ghost still there?”

“Should be. I’ll check in with both as soon as we hang up.”

“Good. Laila will head out with Matt to another secure location. I’ll find one in the next hour.”

With Matt? His boss intended to separate him from Laila? “No. Where she goes, I go.”

“Stop thinking like a guy who fell for a client and start thinking logically. Ramos will expect you to be together. If he can get two for one, that just makes you a juicier target.”

Trees ran that advice around his mental track…and had to admit Hunter was right. Laila was even more at risk if he was with her. He fucking hated that fact. “What do you have in mind?”

“I need to do some legwork. I’ll text you when I find a location for Laila.”

“Where should I go?”

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