Chapter 28

The steady whump whump of the helicopter rotors was familiar to Angelo. Like the previous times he’d been on a helo, he was on a mission to rescue an innocent.

This time was different because he was about to rescue the woman who owned his heart and soul. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her, and that sat uncomfortably in his gut.

Why hadn’t he told her he loved her?

Angelo had had a chance to say the three words so many times. Fear had kept them locked down, and now Teresa may never know how much she meant to him.

“We’ll get to her in time,” Irish’s quiet words sounded, as if they’d been shouted through the headphones they all wore.

He met his friend’s gaze. As always, the piercing blue eyes showed no emotion, but Angelo knew the man felt. He’d just locked everything down so tightly. Did Irish even know where the key was?

Irish would always have his back. The former Delta was dishonorably discharged, and he was disliked by most of his former Delta soldiers, but when the situation called for it, Irish would step up in a way most others wouldn’t.

“I know, man. I know.” Angelo forced the words, even though part of him didn’t know that at all. Didn’t know what was going to greet them.

Like always, Cass had worked her magic and had narrowed in on the area the Camry was last seen.

They headed for the airfield, and by the time they’d boarded, the computer genius had found an exact location. She’d sent the coordinates to Ox, who’d relayed them to the pilot.

The helicopter banked, and Angelo looked out to see nothing. Darkness had fallen, and it reminded him even more of some of the missions he and his SEAL team had been sent on.

This was home in so many ways. Flying into the unknown, where he had to use his training to achieve the outcome they’d planned.

They were going to be dropped two miles away from the location. Then they’d go on foot to the cabin and get the lay of the land before they breeched the door and got his woman back.

Angelo was itching to pummel the shit out of Phillip.

Make the asshole pay for what he’d done to Teresa. If one hair on her head was harmed, he’d ensure the man was laid up for months.

The ‘copter landed with a soft thud, and they climbed out.

Angelo checked his weapons, adjusted his vest, and put his night vision goggles on. “Everyone ready?” he asked, even though they would be.

A chorus of three “Yeps” sounded, and he bounced on the balls of his feet, ready to get started.

“Follow my lead,” Ox said, and they set off into the darkness.

They should cover the distance between the drop-off location and the cabin in about fifteen minutes.

As far as Angelo was concerned, that was fifteen minutes too long.

The closer they got, the more anxious he became. What were they going to find when they got there?

It was the unknown that always made things worse, but it was also how they’d always operated.

Ox held up his fist, and they all stopped.

Through the trees stood the eerie, green outline of a cabin. Everything took on a nightmarish glow when viewed through night vision lenses.

There was no light coming from the cabin. It was shrouded in darkness. “Do we have the right place?”

“Has Cass ever led us astray? Of course, it’s the right fucking place,” Irish growled.

“Then why is it in darkness? I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” His usual oh-shit- meter hadn’t triggered, but that didn’t mean anything.

Not when it came to Teresa.

“It’s possible it doesn’t have electricity, but it’s not like we’re going to storm the place. We’ve got a plan, and we stick to it. Growler and Angel, you take the back. Irish and I will take the front,” Ox ordered. “Let’s move.”

In formation, they slowly made their way to the cabin. He and Growler broke off, and ensuring they were out of line of vision in case anyone was looking out the window, they reached the back of the cabin.

“No discernable sound coming from inside. Preparing to breech,” Ox murmured through the comms.

With every fiber of his being, Angelo wanted to be the one to ram that door down, but here he was, at the back of the cabin…waiting.

There was no sound of wood splintering to indicate Ox had followed through on his words. However, the sputter of a light turning on filtered through the grimy glass.

Angelo ripped off his night vision goggles. He didn’t need them now.

“Angel, inside now!” Ox’s demand had him moving before he’d even finished.

He didn’t care if he made a lot of noise. He smashed the back door in and screeched to a halt.

Ox was kneeling on the ground over a body wearing the clothes he’d seen Teresa put on that morning.

“No!” The cry wrenched from the bottom of his soul, and he would’ve crashed to the floor if Irish hadn’t caught him. “Teresa!”

“She’s breathing,” Ox called. “But she’s been shot.”

Again, Angelo’s knees buckled under him. Irish tightened his hold.

“She’s okay, and she needs you to be strong. Be her strength,” his teammate ordered.

Irish’s words seeped into the cold corners of his soul, heating him until he was confident he wasn’t going to collapse to the ground.

Angelo shook off the guy’s hold and raced over to Ox, sliding to his knees and pulling Teresa into his arms.

Blood soaked her shirt, and it seeped out of a wound on her leg.

How was she alive?

The chest wound was a direct hit to her heart.

Angelo tugged at her shirt, noting that there wasn’t a hole through the fabric like there should’ve been. “It was a dummy bullet,” he muttered.

“What?” Irish asked, squatting next to him.

“Look,” he pointed to her shirt. “No hole, but it’s been made to look like she’d been killed.”

“This is just like Astrid,” Growler murmured. “Alone. Alive and whoever had taken her gone.”

“What the fuck is going on? Are we being played by the cartel?” Irish demanded.

“It doesn’t matter right now. We’ll figure it out. All that matters is that Teresa is alive, but she needs medical attention. That’s our priority.” Angelo ripped off his pack, searching for his first aid kit. His hands shook so much he had trouble pulling anything out.

“I’ve got it.” Irish grabbed the pack out of his hands and got what was needed. “Keep a hold of her. I’ll fix her up so we can transport her.”

Angelo shifted so Teresa’s head rested on his lap while Irish tended to her leg wound.

Whoever had shot her had missed the major arteries. Was that a deliberate move by the shooter or just dumb luck?

Considering what they’d discovered with the “shot” to her chest, the person had deliberately chosen that spot.

In the background, Angelo was aware of Ox speaking to someone, Cass and Eveline, he assumed, letting them know they had Teresa and needed medical assistance at the nearest hospital.

He didn’t care what was going on around him. All that mattered was the woman in his arms. “It’s okay, Tre. I’ve got you. I love you,” he whispered, but she couldn’t hear. Still, Angelo had to let her know how he felt. The moment she woke up, he’d say them again so that she heard them loud and clear. He bent over to place a kiss on her forehead. “You’re safe now. Always.”

Liquid splashed down on her cheek, and Angelo wiped a tear from his face. He didn’t care that he was crying in front of his teammates. All that he cared about was the love his life was alive.