Today, Sanchez had done the song and dance for his administrative assistant, saying the CEO of his Rio de Janeiro company called, and he needed to be there right away. He grumbled that two of his three bodyguards were out with a stomach flu, leaving him short on guards.

Hawk hoped the trap would be snapped today. He’d met the pompous asshole of an administrative assistant. It’d be a pleasure if the culprit was him.

And it was time the damned assignment ended.

Hawk winced as guilt swept over him. He’d bailed out in the middle of tourist season, leaving his brothers to supervise the repairs and remodeling of the various properties that the sarge had left them.

He’d abandoned the mission that the sarge had given them:

Death has been part of your lives. Time to create something instead. Bring this town back to life. That’s an order.

After Mako’s death, Hawk had been slow to join his brothers in Rescue, and now, he’d walked out on them. The sarge would kick his ass if he were still alive.

And what about Aric? Was the kid okay? Hawk had done what he could before leaving, but he hadn’t intended to be gone this long. Remorse cut like a knife. The boy didn’t need more trauma.

With a sigh, Hawk curled his fingers around the dark granite rock in his pocket, the treasure Aric had solemnly given him earlier in the summer.

Maybe he was a fucking idiot, moping over a rock as well as the picture of Kit and Aric in his wallet. But, dammit, he was too far away from them.

If he survived this mission, he’d head home without delay. He’d stuff his feelings for Kit into a box and latch it down good. He’d be fucking polite. Proper.

If getting too close made her uncomfortable, he’d stay at a distance and keep her safe from there.

That would work. It had to. Being away from her—and Aric—made him feel like he had a hole blown in his chest. He even missed his damn brothers.

All of them.

Yeah, well, focus, Calhoun. A bullet in the brain would fuck up those plans.

With shoulders rounded and taking care not to dislodge the pot-belly padding beneath his flight jacket, Hawk did a slow prep on the exterior of the small jet.

If he ever grew a gut like this, the sarge would reach out from the afterlife and shoot him dead. And slouching made his back ache.

Yeah, it was past time to get this shit done with.

As he went up the steps into the plane, he saw his partner mosey across the tarmac. In a gray-haired wig, glasses, and uniform, deVries was dressed so he’d be taken for the usual flight attendant.