Raider ducked low and crept around the corner, stopping as more gunfire erupted at the back of the house. Another armed guard turned the corner, and Raider took him out with a shot to the knee. The man yelled in pain, fell, and Raider ran forward to hit him with the butt of his pistol, knocking him out.

He incapacitated two more men before reaching an office where Wolfe was grappling hand to hand with the senator, who was putting up a surprisingly good fight. Dana was tied to a chair, her shirt undone, blood flowing from several cuts along her arms. Raider drew his knife and rushed to release her, pressing her shirt to her wounds. “How badly are you hurt?” he asked, leaning down to check her eyes.

“I’m okay,” she gasped, tears on her cheeks. “Brigid is downstairs past the kitchen. Get to her. Fast.”

Raider looked up just as Wolfe threw the senator onto the desk and slammed his head into the heavy oak. “You got this?”

“Got it. Get Bridge,” Wolfe snapped, punching the senator square in the mouth.

Raider ran down the hallway as more gunfire came from the back of the house. When he found the stairs, he crept down, gun out, and turned the corner at the bottom. A kick came out of nowhere, knocking the gun from his hand. “I don’t have time for this shit.” He moved with his knife, taking down a guy the size of a muscled rhinoceros, and plunging the knife into his arm. Then he pressed his forearm against the guy’s neck, effectively choking him out. “You’re gonna have a headache,” he muttered, looking wildly around.

He saw just one locked door. He stood and rapidly disengaged the locks, praying he’d find her alive on the other side.

* * *

Brigid held the ten-pound weight to her side, ready to swing it. The door to the gym opened, and she ran forward, trying to halt in the last second. “Raider?”

He was like a bruised avenging angel in a black bulletproof vest, looking like the baddest of all badasses. And he’d come for her. He pivoted, took the weight away, and grabbed her up in a hug. “You’re okay.”

She hugged him back, leaning away. Blood flowed from his temple over the bruises on his face, his injured arm hung wrong, and he had a split lip. “You look terrible.” She chuckled through her tears.

“You look amazing.” He put her down.

“Dana—”

“Is okay. Wolfe is with her,” Raider said, running his hands down her arms. “Are you hurt? Any injuries?”

“No,” she coughed. He was there. He’d gotten her message.

He leaned forward and touched a bruise on her cheekbone. “Who did this?” His voice went so low and dark, she shivered.