Mine To Protect

Chapter 1 Target

Cade

Within the next sixty minutes, Cade would kill a man.

He sat alone behind the tinted windows of his black Escalade, away from the faint light of the lampposts that dotted the residential street. Cicadas buzzed, and while dim lights glimmered from a few windows, no activity on the road or in nearby yards interrupted the stillness of the evening.

Cade mentally reviewed the plan and contingencies again.

He double-checked his weapons, ensured he'd disabled the car's dome light, and watched the time closely. When the target left, he would access the house through the back door. He had easily picked the lock two nights ago and didn’t expect any issues tonight.

The target's home, with its stately bricks and manicured lawn, was unremarkable compared to the others in this affluent neighborhood.

Its owner, Robert Wilson, appeared equally ordinary, just a middle-aged accountant of average height with a receding hairline and a bad combover.

Cade had trailed him for several days and knew his nighttime routine; he left his house almost every night around this time to visit the same woman, a bleach-blonde, thirty-something who lived a few blocks away.

Once he disappeared into her apartment, he exited again within thirty minutes and drove back home.

Tonight, when Wilson returned from his nightly tryst, Cade would greet him with his Glock. If he didn't cooperate, didn’t divulge intel about the missing girls, Cade would make him talk.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t get too messy.

When the target's car slipped from the driveway right on schedule, Cade triggered his stopwatch. He would sit tight for a few minutes in case Wilson forgot something and turned around.

A dog barked somewhere behind Wilson's house, interrupting the tranquility of the evening. Cade scanned the darkness but saw nothing that might be agitating the animal. The dog yapped nonstop until an angry voice snapped at it, then it whimpered and finally hushed.

Everything was quiet and still.

Until a flicker of motion caught his eye.

A dark shape skittered toward the back of Wilson's house. Had it been an animal? Cade scoured the area but detected no further activity.

He chalked up the movement to a raccoon or possum hunting for their next meal and relaxed. Checking the time, he noted it had been eleven minutes since Wilson left.

Cade was about to leave the car when a brief flash appeared inside Wilson's house. Watching closely, he saw more stirrings, shadows across the bare windows and other faint flickers, maybe from a small flashlight.

Son of a bitch.

There was someone in the house.

But who? An associate of Wilson’s was unlikely since they wouldn’t need to prowl.

A rival hitter was a possibility given Wilson’s illicit activities.

If it was another hitman, he needed to get inside before the target was eliminated because he couldn't get intel from a corpse.

But the clumsy, visible movements were too obvious for a professional, so he dismissed that idea.

It could be a burglar, which would be ridiculously inconvenient timing.

Hopefully, the intruder would leave before Wilson returned home so Cade could proceed with the original plan.

At this point, coming back tomorrow night was not an option.

Once Wilson realized someone had been in his house, he was likely to increase security.

Fucking hell.

Cade watched the house closely, seeing occasional silhouettes and intermittent flashes, but when his stopwatch ticked past eighteen minutes, everything was still.

The trespasser could be upstairs, where window shades blocked visibility, or he could be leaving.

Cade sat motionless, his eyes fixed on the rear of the house, but with no sign that the thief had exited, he figured he must still be inside.

What the fuck was taking so long? You got in, grabbed the electronics and jewelry, quickly searched drawers for guns or cash, then got out. Cade and the other street rats figured that out day one, so what was with this guy? Was he looking for drugs or just stupid?

Cade checked the time and cursed when he saw it had been twenty-five minutes since Wilson left. At this point, it was too late to enter the house and get into position, but something compelled him to stay, to ensure the burglar got out. He waited, body tense, as time ticked by with no activity.

Then Wilson’s car pulled into the driveway.

Cade was pretty sure the intruder was still in the house.

Fuck.

He had to act now.

Wilson was a monster. He bought and sold people like animals or goods, so Cade knew he wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate the trespasser. The robber was not exactly innocent, but compared to the horrific things that Wilson had done, the transgressions of a petty thief were inconsequential.

Cade had to save this person from Wilson; his code required it.

He waited for the target's form to disappear into the home, then slid from the car.

He tucked his gun against his leg to hide its outline and slinked to the rear of the house, staying low to avoid detection through the windows.

Through the back door, he could see past the kitchen into the living room, where a red-headed kid looked like he might piss his pants.

He could make out part of Wilson's back and the gun aimed at the boy's forehead.

Fuck.

He eased open the door and crept silently toward the pair, hugging the edge of the room where the darkness swallowed him.

When he stood in the shadows only a few feet from the intruder, he realized his small frame had made him seem younger from a distance.

But up close, it was obvious the five o'clock shadow and the muscles beneath his tight, black shirt did not belong to a teenager. Maybe early twenties, Cade thought.

He paused to listen. At first, he could only hear the burglar's ragged breaths. The obvious vulnerability evoked an uncomfortable feeling in Cade's gut, the same one he always felt when an innocent was at risk. Then he heard Wilson's voice, directed at someone on the phone.

"Yeah, it's that TV reporter. You know, the red-haired one."

Wilson listened for a few seconds, then said, "How the fuck should I know? I don't think he found anything, but who knows."

Another pause.

"Yeah, I'll take care of it. Send a cleaner right away."

The redhead sucked in a breath as he realized what those words implied.

But Cade wasn't about to let him die.

Wilson tossed his phone onto the coffee table and addressed the trespasser. "What are you doing here anyway? Why are you snooping around?"

The burglar raised his chin before answering. The unexpected action intrigued Cade; most people were not so bold with a gun trained on them.

"I know you were involved in my sister's disappearance," he said with a steady voice.

Wilson snickered. "Ah, okay. You got good detective skills. Shame you're going to die so young."

The guy notched his chin up one more tick and stared Wilson down. Cade had to admire his balls.

Cade silently slipped from the kitchen into the living room behind Wilson, already aiming his weapon. He hoped to signal the redhead to conceal his presence but wasn't fast enough. The man's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped in surprise.

Wilson whirled around, pointing his gun at Cade. "What the fuck?"

"Put the gun down," Cade growled.

"I don't think so," Wilson snapped as he backed up toward the red-haired man.

"Put the fucking gun down or you're dead," Cade threatened, taking a step closer, but Wilson was retreating in kind, now beside the intruder who seemed too shocked to move.

"How 'bout you put yours down, yeah?" Wilson paused as he stepped behind the thief, grabbed him around the neck, and shoved his gun against his temple. "And your partner here doesn't die."

Cade cursed internally as the redhead's face paled.

He steadied his weapon with both hands, then offered, "Let him go, and I'll let you go. Everybody just goes on with their business."

Wilson laughed derisively. "How about you put your gun down, and then I'll put mine down? How's that instead?"

"No deal," Cade said menacingly. He took another step closer, but Wilson backed up too, bringing the intruder with him.

Cade was an excellent marksman and probably could have taken him out, but the margin of error was too small with Wilson using the thief as a human shield. He needed a distraction, something to draw Wilson's attention long enough to get a clean shot.

As Cade considered his next move, the dog barked again from behind Wilson's house. Before he could figure out how to use it to his advantage, the hostage spoke with a surprisingly steady voice.

"You hear that? Our guys are out there."

Nice.

Wilson's facade slipped for a split second. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?" the man postured.

"We've got two guys outside," Cade said, continuing with the ruse. "They have instructions to take you out through the window if we take too long."

Wilson scoffed. "There's only two windows, and I'm looking at one of them."

Knowing they had him now, Cade purposefully flicked his eyes to the window diagonally behind Wilson, who hesitated before curiosity got the better of him. When he swiveled his head in that direction, it gave Cade the clearance he needed.

He fired.

The bullet entered Wilson's temple, and he crumpled to the floor, fast and hard.

The redhead stood motionless, taking a moment to register that his captor was dead.

Cade tucked his gun back into his holster and cursed.

Dead men don't talk.

Fuck.

He ran a hand through his hair, then faced the red-haired man.

His golden-brown eyes brimmed with fear, and his hair stood up at odd angles, probably from the discarded balaclava at his feet.

He was cute, with full pink lips and a light smattering of freckles across his cheeks. He looked innocent, attractive.

Fuckable.

Cade dragged his gaze from the man's pretty face and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," he rasped.

"We need to get out of here. There's a cleaner coming soon."

The intruder stood frozen, his eyes still wide, probably in shock.

"Did you hear me? We need to leave. Now."

Cade's stern voice seemed to get through to the redhead, but he still eyed him suspiciously as he leaned down to pick up his balaclava and a laptop from the coffee table.

The thief's voice was shaky when he said, "Who are you?"

Cade ignored the question and jerked his head toward the computer, "Is that Wilson's?"

"Yeah," he answered, holding the machine protectively.

"Is it on?"

"No."

"Leave it off, or it can be traced. Did you find anything else useful? A portable hard drive or flash drives?"

The man's chin notched up again, but he didn't answer.

"Did you or did you not find anything else?" Cade barked.

"No! I searched his whole office. This is all."

"Okay, let's get out of here."

"What?"

"Come with me."

"What? No!"

"We need to get out," Cade snapped. "You can argue with me later."

"I'm not leaving here with you."

Cade tamped down his irritation and said calmly, "We both need to leave. Right now."

He turned and strode through the kitchen and out of the house. When he reached the porch, he was relieved to see the guy had the sense to exit the house like he told him to.

"Do you have a car here? Or a phone?"

"No, I took the bus, and I left my phone with … a friend. In case something happened to me."

"Good. Come with me," Cade commanded, but as he rounded the corner, the redhead hadn't moved. He stopped and asked impatiently, "Well?"

"I'll pass, but um, thanks for saving me back there."

"Look, you know you can't go home, right? Or to a friend's, or to work, or anywhere else you regularly go. They know who you are. They'll find you and kill you."

The man's face was shadowed in darkness, but Cade watched his stiff form as he waited for the words to sink in. Finally, he asked, "Why should I go with you?"

"Because I can keep you safe."

"Why would you do that?"

Fucking hell, this guy was difficult. Cade was about thirty seconds from giving up on diplomacy, knocking him out, and dragging him to the car for his own safety.

"Because it's what I do."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Look, we don't have time to chat. We need to leave."

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," Cade said honestly. "But I don't see that you have much choice. Right now, I'm the only thing standing between you and those guys, and they want you dead."

The redhead stiffened. Cade waited a couple of seconds, then commanded, "Follow me."