Nicola stepped between them and eased Asal into the SUV. Ignoring the looks he was sure Nic and Cash were tossing him, Jared stole his body against hers. The tough-girl act was a front for everyone else. But Jared forgot them. It was just him and her. His mind churned with things to say. His heart had editorial comments. But his mouth stuttered for the words. "I'm..."

Sorry for the homicide accusations that I barked when we should've been partners.

Sorry that you were hurt.

Sorry that Asal's sick.

Sorry that I didn't make damn sure you knew how crazy I am about you.

The front doors shut, one after the other. Everyone had loaded up, and Cash was at the wheel. Nicola hung out the window, watching Jared's back because he wasn't watching anything but Sugar.

"Sugar, I-"

The muffled roar of an explosion echoed behind closed doors. Fuck.

He bumped Sugar into the vehicle, slamming the door behind her. "Go!" But the wheels were already spinning toward their exit.

Jared pivoted, running toward the blast. Smoke hit his face as he leapt down the stairs.

"Roman? Roc?" he called into his mic. "Come in. Status update. Now."

Nothing but dead silence.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

The echo of the muffled explosion played on repeat in Sugar's head. Jared ran toward the sound. Toward his men. She knew what he did for a living and that he lived on the edge of danger, but to watch him run toward a big kaboom made her legs restless and her chest tight.

She needed a drink of water. The doors of the Explorer were closing in on her with each passing mile, and Cash was driving like he was under enemy fire. Sugar was convinced that the SUV was shrinking.

Couldn't someone call Jared to make sure everything was okay? Nicola might understand that request seeing as her brother was in there also, but Cash wouldn't. Plus, that was Jared at work. She couldn't freak out when he did his job. A mantra played in her mind. Don't get hurt. Don't get hurt. She was sure everyone could hear her silent plea for Jared.

She hoped that no one else would get hurt, but Jared was the only thing that really mattered. He'd run toward the explosion. Son of a bitch. She stifled an uneasy groan. The situation made her sick.

What was he thinking? That should be easy to guess. He would do whatever it took to bring his boys home, just like he'd brought her home. He was always saving the day, and she got it. Even when anxiety and apprehension trickled through her blood, she knew how loyal he was to Titan. It made her want to smile-and cry. She was all over the place, spouting emotions like a feelings fountain, one bad phone call away from a nervous breakdown.

Cash had the gas pedal pressed down, maybe as far as it would go. She couldn't see the speedometer, but if the passing cars were any indication, they were clocking some serious mph.

Cash adjusted his cowboy hat. He was brooding, blowing out deep breaths. Serious tension percolated in the SUV. Between the Titan team in danger and Brock's family sitting pretty in the Explorer, he looked like he might snap.

Nicola pulled out her earpiece out and shrugged out of her tactical vest. She disarmed, then turned toward the backseat. "Everyone, other than Asal, doing okay?"

Sarah's kids were in the third row of the SUV, silent and probably overwhelmed, just like their mother, who looked bad. Guilty. Dark circles. Red eyes. Brock's betrayal wasn't her fault, but she was ready for scapegoat duty. With pressure so thick that it was choking Sugar's air supply, she knew Sarah was feeling it, too.

"We're fine," Sarah whispered from next to Sugar, hardly moving to speak. Her cheeks were flushed, and she sucked in her chapped bottom lip. Tension still hung heavy as Sarah let out a slow breath. She didn't look Nicola in the eye, rather, stared at her shoulder. "You know Brock, too?" Sarah's voice broke, and she cleared it, then spoke louder. "You work with him?"

Sugar, still wondering about Jared, watched both women and Cash. Cash flexed his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles straining a pinky-white color. He stared straight forward, clenching his jaw. Brock had betrayed the team, and Cash had lost a friend. The Titan boys were tight. And to have their team leader screw them like that? No wonder Cash looked like he'd sat on a pin-less grenade.

Couple that with having no news about Jared and the men they'd left behind, anger wasn't even the start of what was on Cash's face. More like explosive resentment and fury.

Nicola played it cool, being far less the hothead than her husband. Still pivoted toward the back seat, she flashed a weak smile. "We did work with him."

"Did." Sarah nodded and interlaced her fingers, burying them in her lap. "Because he's..."

Dead is most likely the answer.

Cash slapped the steering wheel. "Because we trusted him, we worked with him, and he fucked us in the ass." He looked in the rearview mirror and growled through clamped teeth. "Sorry 'bout the language in front of your kids."

Sarah nodded. The AC blew on high, and Sugar could hardly swallow. She tried to breathe quietly, but her lungfuls sounded too loud in the screaming silence. She shifted Asal in her lap. Every move, every crinkle of fabric and shift in her seatbelt, wailed louder than the last.

Nicola glared at Cash, then turned back to Sarah. "We're all in shock right now. Nobody expected Brock to do anything other than follow the rules."

Sarah's lips pressed into a pale line as she re-knotted her fingers. "But still, you rescued us?"

"Well, yeah." Cash sounded like a teenager about to drop a duh. He probably rolled his eyes, too, but the backseat wasn't the best vantage point.

"Why?" Sarah asked.

Cash shrugged and changed lanes. "You shouldn't reap the consequences of his mistakes. Plus we were already going in for Asal anyway. Then the shit with Sugar went down." He scrunched his shoulders, blowing out another deep growl. "Fuckin' Brock."

Nicola glared at Cash again. "Kids," she hissed under her breath. "Tone down the language." Looking back at them, she shook her head. "Sugar, what happened anyway? Jared was short on details."

That almost made Sugar laugh. Short on the details? Bet he was. "I ran off when he wasn't looking. He was being a dick. I was being... me."

"Hard to handle? Pain in the ass?" Cash volunteered over his shoulder, an impish grin hanging on his face. Nicola shoved him. They were a good couple, and Cash knew Sugar better than almost anyone did. Their history could've been awkward, but it never was, especially with Nicola.

"Forget him." Nicola nudged Cash again. "You ran off on Jared. Can only imagine that went over well."

"Never saw his reaction. I'd stolen a spark plug, so he couldn't chase after me."

Nicola snorted.

Cash swerved in shock, quickly righting the vehicle. "You did what?" All his tension disappeared when he threw his head back and roared with laughter.

"Look at the damn road, Cash." Nicola turned back to Sugar. "Are you serious?"

"Girl." Cash whistled. "Are you in some trouble. Holy hell."

Trouble, with all capitals and spelled out. That was so true. As soon as everyone was safe and sound and healthy, Jared would rip her to pieces or wring her neck. She saw it coming, and she could do nothing but wait. Her stomach churned at the thought, then sank. God, let him be all right.

"How'd Brock find you? Get you?" Nicola asked.

Sugar hadn't thought about it. Had he been watching and waiting? Mulling it over as she looked out the window, she shrugged. "No idea. He got me to pull over and stuck my leg with a needle. I was lights-out in seconds. Never saw it coming."

Just like that, the tension was back.

Sarah leaned toward Sugar. "I'm so sorry. So very sorry." Fresh tears welled in her eyes. "That's not the Brock I know. The man I love wouldn't... wouldn't do that."

Sugar loosened one hand from Asal and patted Sarah's knee. Not her typical MO, but the lady looked like she needed reassurance. "It's not your fault. He thought he was making the right play for you guys."

"Screw that, Sugar." Angry Cash was back. "He handed you over, knowing damn well what would happen. And who you belong to. Screw that."

She snorted. "I don't belong to anyone, Cash."

He mumbled, Nicola rolled her eyes, and Sugar didn't know if that was meant for her or him.

"I want to pretend this never happened," Sarah whispered. "But I don't really know who my husband is."

"Sure you do." Sugar continued to pat her knee as though that would help. When did I become so damn empathetic?

"We sure as hell didn't know about you." Cash made a sharp change of lanes. "Or your kids."

Sugar looked over her shoulder. The two kids in the back were asleep, probably worn out from the overstimulation and grown-up bickering. How they could sleep was a mystery.

Sarah also glanced at her kids and went back to knitting her fingers. "I don't understand why he didn't turn to the people he trusted most."

"You and everyone else." Cash slammed on his horn, then hit an exit ramp going top speed.

"Chill, Cowboy. Geez." Could Cash be more of a prick right now?

His grip flexed on the steering wheel again. "Time to get Asal checked out and find out where the hell the guys are."

The explosion sounded in her head again. Forget the drama. Forget the tension. She had two objectives: find out what was wrong with Asal and grovel an apology to Jared once he was home safe. Both items on her to-do list made her want to retch.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

Smoke billowed down the hallway, and even with night vision, Jared saw zip. No activity. No signs of life. Only static in his earpiece. His finely tuned skill of observation was turning up big, fat goose eggs.

"Roman. Rocco." He tried again, retracing their initial path through the corridors. The hallway ended, forcing him to go right or left. He stilled, listened, and watched. The smoke hung heavier on the right side. Maybe? Fuck it, no sense in wasting time. Right it is. He pounded down the hall, sweeping glances through any door he passed. Still nothing.

Another dead end. How was this possible? Tightness pooled in his chest, his eyes pinching behind his mask. Losing men wasn't on the agenda. That just wasn't going to happen. Not again. He couldn't handle it. Not after Brock had defected to the enemy.

Jared raged and roared, punching the wall with a gloved fist. Twice in one week, he'd punched a wall. The impact should've split his skin on impact. But instead the wall... echoed?

False wall. Has to be.

Jared kicked it. Hands out, he ran a pattern around the wall panel, knocking for the perimeter like he was checking for wall studs. Slow seconds ticked by. No telling if Roman and Rocco were in trouble.

Screw this. He didn't have time. Issuing two kicks as a warning just in case his boys had set up camp nearby, Jared placed a charge at the bottom of the hollow panel. If the hollow panel wasn't a door, then it was a way into a hidden passage. He bumped his fists against the panel a few times, then hollered, "Move your asses if you hear me."

He bent, lit the fuse, and hustled back around the corner. Dropping to a knee and shielding his ears and face, he counted to three before it blew.

Bam!

It sounded just like the explosion he'd heard earlier. A flicker of hope passed. Maybe Roman and Rocco had done the same thing, and maybe they weren't victims of a GSI-made bomb.

Maglite in hand, he beamed through the smoke-filled, dusty passageway and stepped in. The floor sloped at a sharp angle. Spent shells littered the ground, and remnants of spent gunpowder floated, mingling with the particles from his C4 charge. The air tasted metallic, and his nostrils burned.

He looked both directions. Simple choice: up the slope or down. Buck Baer would want out. If Titan chased, he would run. Up it is.

The tunneled slope doglegged, and he rounded the sharp turn. A few hundred yards farther, it did the same thing. The path wove higher, so much that he was sure he would have to hit the surface soon unless somehow they were pushing farther into the side of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

But that wouldn't make sense. Baer would want to escape. He was a runner, a pansy. All talk and no back up. No way would Baer want a fair fight.

Pop, pop, pop.

Muffled, muted, and far away, was the unquestionable sound of a gun battle. He hauled ass toward the noise. Far ahead, a sliver of light crept into the impossible darkness. Maybe a door, a hatch. Who knows? As long as it was access to the ground game, he could make it work.

"You're mine, asshole." Jared tore through the remainder of the distance and stopped short of a door. Sunlight bled through a crack, and he nudged it open. As his eyes adjusted to daylight, the scene focused.

On a wide mountainside clearing, Baer had taken cover behind boulders and was throwing out shots like beads during Mardi Gras. They pinged everywhere. Ricocheted bullets and splintering rocks exploded around Roman and Rocco, and his boys had Baer pinned. He couldn't go anywhere, except down, and judging by the horizon, that looked like a hell of a fall. Buck Baer wasn't the kamikaze type.

But for all Baer's willy-nilly shooting, he was covered. Jared tried to mic Roman and Rocco again. "On your six."

Neither turned, but Rocco cursed in his ear. "About damn time."

"This asshole has an artillery stashed up here." Roman grunted. "And no clear shot."

Their pissed off voices made him smile. Alive and angry, just the way I like my team on a mission. The radios must've been down because of underground distance. He never should've doubted his team.

"We're waiting him out." Rocco's rifle banged out on full auto, slicing and dicing against Baer's boulder. "Mostly waiting him out. The fucker."

"Has to run out of bullets sometime." Roman picked up shooting where Rocco left off.

Baer sprayed rapid fire toward them, his aim off. He hadn't noticed Jared, but Baer wasn't known for his field acuity. His motives were always selfish, and if Buck Baer was burning through a couple of thousand dollars' worth of ammo in an hour, then something was- Womp, womp, womp.

Bingo.

Baer had been waiting on his getaway vehicle. A helicopter roared nearby.

"Hold your fire. Don't shoot that bird." He could almost feel his men drop their jaws, but Jared didn't need a chopper smashing into the side of a mountain. He would have too much to explain and too many people to deal with. This engagement needed to be quiet, strictly Titan versus GSI.

Rocks and dirt flipped and fragmented as Baer continued to fire indiscriminately. He hadn't noticed that the scene had turned into the Buck-Baer-one-man gun show.

He was such a bad shot. The helicopter approached, dangling a ladder. Two men hung out the cabin door, ready to provide cover. Instead of an assault, Roman and Rocco crouched down, giving Baer's cover nothing to shoot at.

Baer scuttled over-no finesse or strategy to his awkward departure-and jumped onto the ladder. Watching his unsteady climb was almost worth the hell of the day. He'd obviously not been out of his cushy office in a while. Too damn bad I didn't bring a video recorder. YouTube gold.