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Trees turned to Hunter in question. This was his sister and his show.
The elder Edgington cursed silently, then crouched in front of the stable and scratched on the wood.
“Do not move,” the inside man said in thickly accented English as he approached the door.
From the shadows, Trees caught on, watching the guard close in until he pressed his scowling face against the bars covering the window to look outside. At Trees’s nod, Hunter jumped up, thrusting his hand inside the stall, thunking the guard’s head against the solid metal bars, and knocking him out cold.
“Kimber?” Hunter whispered.
“Oh, my god. I’m here,” her voice trembled.
So Laila hadn’t lied about Kimber’s location. It stood to reason she hadn’t lied to him about her feelings, either.
“Oh, thank fuck, kitten.” Her husband rattled the door, sounding ready to tear the whole building down to reach her.
“Deke!” she whispered emphatically.
“The door is fucking locked. Search the guard for keys,” her insistent husband said.
“I can’t. I’m tied to a chair.”
Hunter turned to his father and brother. “We can’t shoot this lock.”
Logan nodded. “It’ll bring attention.”
Trees frowned. Had he been the only one with a less-than-glowing youth? “I can pick it.”
He retrieved his survival multitool and went to work. The lock was designed to keep thoroughbreds in more than to keep trained operatives out. He’d picked it in thirty seconds.
“Thanks.” Deke shoved him aside and dashed into the stable after his wife.
Hunter, Logan, and Caleb all filed around, watching their six as Deke bent to cut Kimber free, then scooped her up in his arms, holding her tight against his chest. “Are you hurt?”
“No. Just get me home.”
He turned to the colonel. “Relay to the other team that we’re out and tell them to head to the meet point.”
Caleb nodded. “I’ll go with you and keep your six safe. Hunter, Logan, Zy, and Trees, get us out clean. Make sure we’re not followed. Mop up any messes. We’ve taken out most of the guards around the stables, but when they don’t report in…”
More would flood in from other parts of the estate and all hell would break loose. Something kept itching at the back of Trees’s neck that their time was running out.
“Roger that,” he affirmed.
The others did the same.
By a flash of moonlight, Trees caught the stark emotion in Deke and Kimber’s shared glance. Tears spilled down her dirty cheeks. His barely controlled fury said he’d give anything to erase what she’d endured, but he was so fucking grateful to have her back, as if someone had stolen the stars from the sky and finally given them back when he’d lifted her into his embrace.
That gaze was like a kick in the gut. They had each other and the eternal, binding love they shared. Trees had never thought he wanted that—until Laila. But the last twenty-four hours had proven that his heart couldn’t be trusted. He’d fallen for a temptress who used him for her own gain. And her lover’s. He couldn’t forget that.
But Laila had done one decent thing in helping to reunite two people who lived and breathed each other. In returning a loving mother to her young children. Sure, she had probably done that for some selfish reason he could only begin to guess at. But that didn’t matter in this moment. Kimber and Deke were back together.
Trees blinked, then the couple was gone, melting into the shadows together, her father right behind them.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Hunter insisted as he plastered himself to the shadows.
The boss didn’t have to tell him twice.
The four men crept through the dark spaces around the buildings until they reached the end of the row of stalls. They were feet away from a clean escape.
Suddenly, a man’s shout split the air north of them, something in rapid-fire Spanish he didn’t understand. But he’d bet someone had discovered the bodies they’d tucked away. Which meant he and the other three operatives were in a world of shit.
The voices coming from the north started blending with those of the reinforcements pouring in from the main house to the south.
“They’re about to cut off our fastest fucking way out,” Hunter growled.
He was right. That meant shit was the least of their problems. They were fucked. They had a split second to flee.
Trees scanned his surroundings. He needed perspective. The roof of the stables was accessible to someone of his height. “Stay hidden.”
“What are you doing?” Logan hissed.
Trees didn’t respond, just jumped up to grab the overhang, hoisted himself up, then slithered onto his belly. Lights flashed on. Two goons were hoofing it from the north end of the stables. A dozen reinforcements were charging from the south.
Geraldo Montilla was in the thick of the pack, gun in hand.
“Run north,” he growled into his comm. “Two tangos at three o’clock. A shitload at ten. Take out the pair to the north and keep running. You’ll be home free.”
“Get off the roof,” Hunter barked.
