Instead, he stopped at a storage room, more than adequate to keep them out of the line of fire.

The women filed past him. As he’d figured, Frankie wasn’t in this bunch. She wasn’t the type to sit out a fight.

“People, do not leave this room.” Bull gave them a hard stare. “Am I clear? Out here are nervous people with weapons, and anyone leaving this room is liable to get shot by someone with an itchy trigger finger—or might catch a bullet from the assholes outside.”

The women nodded. He knew them all except for three middle-aged women who…damn, they were state legislators.

Politicians. “Ladies, that goes for you three also. Stay here.”

“We will,” the oldest one said.

Setting Aric on the ground, Bull crouched down. The boy was trembling. Dammit. “Aric, your mom’s upstairs, helping with the guns, but she needs you to stay here. Regan, you too. Keep an eye on Aric, please.”

“I will, Uncle Bull.” Her chin trembled, but her answer was steady.

He gave her an approving nod. Toughest kid ever.

Damn the bastards for putting these two through this shit.

“Bull,” Caz shouted from above. “Get moving. We need more firepower. And ’mano, no one saw Hawk at the roadhouse.”

Fuck. Bull stiffened as his worst worries were confirmed. Hawk wouldn’t have let the women be taken if he was operational. Trouble was, no one had expected an attack on the roadhouse.

It only took one bullet.

“Hawk?” Aric was stricken. So was Regan.

Caz, you idiot. Bull pulled in a breath. He wouldn’t lie but wouldn’t deny them hope either. Dammit, bro, be okay. “Hawk’s sneaky, so we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Aric’s mouth trembled, but he nodded.

Regan put her arm around him.

“Stay strong.” Bull ran his hand over Aric’s hair, then squeezed Regan’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you both.”

Farther in the room, Dante was pointing the women toward blankets on the hard dirt floor. The only light came from a camp lantern in one corner. The accommodations weren’t comfortable, but better than bullets.

Dante glanced over. “Go on, boy. I’ll be up in a minute.”

At the stairs, Bull stopped to let Caz and Audrey go past on the way down.

Caz paused to say, “I’m sending Audrey up to Gabe, then guarding the ground floors. You escort Dante and Lillian to my place, sí?”

“Got it.” Bull ran up the stairs, his need to see Frankie growing by the moment.

At the kitchen island, Lillian was loading a Glock.

His spirit hurt at the thought of the older woman joining the battle. “Lillian, maybe you should—”

“My dear boy, you will not deny me my place on this stage.” Her smile was cheerful, her eyes grim. “ ‘Hark! the shrill trumpet sounds, to horse, away. My soul’s in arms and eager for the fray.’ ”