Page 7 of Harris

“Then I’ll see you when you get back. We’ll crack open a couple beers out on the back deck.”

Harris respected the rancher and the fact he saidwhenand notif.

“Not that crappy lite beer I’ve seen in the fridge?”

Bryan grinned. “No, I’ll pick up the full-throttle version. Don’t tell Kyle. He’s got me on a diet since the doctor said I need to watch my cholesterol.”

“Your secret’s safe. I’ll see you then.”

Harris took the opportunity to head back to his bedroom and pack. He wouldn’t need much. He’d be heading out in themorning and spending his last day at the lake house preparing for the mission and stripping all thoughts of Woodley from his mind.

***

Woodley

His anger rose as his truck ate up the miles, taking him closer to the lake house. Who in their right mind thought that sending Harris back into the belly of the beast was a viable idea? Was Harris trying to get himself killed?

The Noah Group had murdered his father, and others. For reasons known only to Harris, he wanted them to capture him. It was a suicide mission, plain and simple. This shit made absolutely no sense.

At least he knew what the man had been keeping from him, for good reason. There was no way in hell he’d sit back and allow this shit show to go down. No way.

Woodley had worked up a good head of steam over the twenty minutes it took him to drive across town and out to Fire Lake. When he pulled into the driveway leading up to the lake house, he spotted Brick sitting on the porch. Good. He had a few things to say to him.

Woodley barely shifted the truck into park before he was out the door and headed straight for the guy he deemed responsible for this misguided mission.

Brick hadn’t moved, but Woodley wasn’t fooled. He knew the team leader was on alert and probably expected the visit. The man was never switched off.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Woodley growled as he took the stairs two at a time.

Brick stood and met him head-on. Woodley grabbed Brick’s collar and shoved him back against the wall. The team leader grinned. Confident fucker.

“I see Harris told you of his plans,” Brick stated calmly before flipping Woodley back over the railing, but he held on tight to his opponent and took Brick down with him.

Woodley could taste blood, knowing his lip was split from the impact with the hard Texas dirt, but it’d be healed before he blinked. His healing superpower was good for a lot of things.

“I see you didn’t try to talk him out of this suicide mission,” Woodley growled back as he flipped Brick up and over his back and dropped him to the ground.

Woodley wasn’t stupid. The fact no one was coming out of the house or cottages to check what the hell was happening was telling. He’d been expected. Also, no one feared for the boss’s safety.

“Can anyone talk Harris out of something when his mind is set?” Brick asked before kicking Woodley’s feet out from under him and jamming his elbow into Woodley’s back on his way down for good measure.

Woodley groaned at the impact and felt all the air rush out of his lungs but had no intent of stopping.

“Why are you supporting him?” he gasped. “Do you honestly hate him as much as I’m led to believe that you don’t give a damn if he dies?”

In a practiced move, Woodley launched his knee up and connected with Brick’s rib cage, returning the favor and knocking the wind out of the other man. However, any thought of taking advantage of that moment ended when the leader shook it off, flipped with more agility than a man of his size deserved, and locked his legs around Woodley’s neck, slamminghim down and squeezing tight. He’d be unconscious in a matter of minutes. Shit.

“I don’t hate him. I’m damn impressed with his behavior and willingness to sacrifice himself for others.” Brick grunted as he tightened his grip. The bastard wasn’t kidding around.

“That’s the problem,” Woodley gasped. “He’s too damn willing to die.”

Brick’s leg hold tightened impossibly further as Woodley searched for any weakness and found none.

“Are you done?” Brick asked, his voice calm and measured as if this was just another typical day for him. Maybe it was; after all, he was the team leader for a group of deadly Navy SEALs.

Woodley had to give it one more shot at loosening Brick’s hold, but it was useless. The hard-as-nails leader was a pro and had Woodley dead to rights. He’d even venture to say the SEAL had allowed him to get as far as he had.

“Yeah,” he groaned as he tapped his hand on the hard ground in surrender.

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