The knife, the one Ranger had knocked from the attacker’s hand, lay just ahead of him. He edged toward it and spotted his father standing in the great room.

Hoo-yah, his old man held the gun, pointed at the man threatening Noemi.

Except, Please, Dad, don’t shoot my wife.

Because his dad had the same terrible blinding disease Ranger had.

The man holding Noemi turned to Ranger’s father. “Put. It. Down.”

His father turned the gun on his cohort standing behind Ranger. “You shoot her, I shoot him.”

Ranger stilled.

Noemi’s captor seemed to be thinking, even as the other man, the one burned and bleeding and angry, swore at him.

And then Ranger’s assailant turned and looked at Ranger.

Ranger hit his feet, the knife in his grip. Yeah, well, c’mon buddy, let’s go.

Blood dripped off the assailant’s face, but he smiled. Even when he reached for a handgun from his shoulder holster.

Not so fast, pal.

“Ranger!” Noemi screamed.

Ranger let the knife fly even as he took off for the man. The blade stabbed its target in the chest seconds before Ranger tackled him.

They hit the ground to the sound of a gunshot.

No!

Noemi screamed. Ranger bounced up.

Noemi!

But she was fighting the grip of her captor, struggling, shrieking.

Instead, his father lay on the sofa, blood exploding from a wound in his chest.

“Dad!” Ranger reached him in a second.

The bullet had grazed his dad’s chest, sliding under his arm, cutting across his ribs. Still, his father writhed in pain.

“Okay, okay, you’re okay.” Ranger picked up a pillow and pressed it to the wound. Blood puddled on the sofa, streaked his hands.

His dad nodded, held the pillow. Met Ranger’s eyes. A look passed between them.

The rifle. It lay beside his father on the floor.

Ranger rounded, kicking the weapon under the sofa.

The shooter had recentered his handgun on Noemi. “Do that again and she dies.”

Tears ran down Noemi’s face, even as she shook her head. “Get him, Ranger.”

Oh, Noemi. And the fact that here she was again, taken captive while he watched. . . . A stab of fear went right through him.

Ranger put up his hands. “Don’t.”

Noemi’s face crumpled.

Sorry.

“On your face.”

Ranger sank to his knees.

“All the way down.”

He couldn’t meet Noemi’s eyes as he lay prone on the floor.

“Hands behind your back.”

He moved his hands.

And then, the first man walked over, prying the knife from where it stuck in his chest, near his shoulder. Blood dripped down his arm, but he seemed unfazed.

He sheathed the knife, then his gun.

Then he pinned Ranger and zip-tied his hands behind him.

Rolled him over.

The man knelt before him. “Where is Taylor Price?”

Taylor? Ranger shook his head. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”