Tension fills the truck, gravel spitting under the tires as I rip out of the driveway.“I saw him last week at Sugar and Spice. He mentioned his cabin in the mountains,” I explain. Ethan leans forward from the backseat, eyes narrowing.
“The abandoned one?”
“Yeah. Said some stranger with a strange accent asked if it was for sale. Carlson said it wasn’t worth much, but the guy offered thirty thousand cash.”
“Cash?” Ethan’s eyes widen.
“Yes,” I growl, knuckles white on the wheel.“It has to be Mark.”
We tear through the winding mountain roads, tires crunching over frost and gravel. Pines blur past, their scent sharp and cold through the cracked window. My heart’s a jackhammer, hands slick on the wheel, every nerve screaming. Radios crackle behind me, Ethan’s voice calm but tight, relaying orders. I focus on one thing: Penny. Her laughter. Her scent. Her hair catching sunlight. Her warmth. Her life.
The cabin appears like a scar in the forest, a dull glow leaking from its windows. My stomach drops. I cut the headlights, park behind the pines. Hearts hammering. Breath ragged. Dex and Ethan flank me, men fanning out silently, radios low.
Then a scream rips through the night. It isn’t just sound, it’s a blade through my chest. Protocol evaporates. Training gone. The world shrinks to a single point.
Penny.
I run.
Inside smells like mildew and old wood. My stomach twists. She’s tied to a filthy bed, one eye swollen, lip split, shirt torn. That bastard’s hand is on her leg and I see red.
“Cas!” Her voice cracks.
I’m already moving. Mark spins and his fist slams into my face, I don’t feel it. Rage takes over. I grab him, throw him down. My brothers storm in, Ethan to Penny, Dex and Jude holding back the men trying to intervene. Mark cries and whines, I don’t hear it. I only see Penny’s pain. Fury spikes through me, white-hot, pulsing in my veins. I hit him. Again. And again.
Dex steps beside me as I kick Mark in the stomach. He smokes his cigarette, blowing smoke down on Mark like ash from hell.“You like hitting women, you fucktard?” Dex sneers, voice lethal.
I glance at Penny. Tears streak her cheeks. Ethan wraps her in a blanket. I leave Mark to my brothers and rush to her.“Can I pick her up?”
“Sure,” Ethan says softly. My arms close around her. She’s cold, trembling against me. I breathe her in, peaches and vanilla and fear. “Sunset,” I whisper into her hair. “I knew I’d find you.”
“The sheriff hit me!” Mark whines as Chris cuffs him, hard.
“Really?” Chris says flatly. “All I saw was you hitting the sheriff and him defending himself, you useless piece of shit.” He puts a knee between Mark’s shoulder blades, pressing him hard to the floor before hauling him up.
Dex’s smile turns feral. He steps right in front of Mark, blowing smoke into his face. “You know what happens to men who hit women when they get to prison?” His voice is low, dark. This is the Dex I haven’t seen in years, the one who always got in fights, the one who joined that motorcycle band, the one who never held back.
“And I have some friends there waiting for you.” He spits at Mark’s feet. “You’re lucky my brother was the one who got to you first,” he sneers. “If I’d found you first…” He takes a deep drag, then grinds the cigarette out on Mark’s neck. Mark screams.
Dex leans close, eyes black with rage. “I’d take it slow. Use every rusted knife I’ve got to make you wish you were never born, you pathetic, useless prick.”
Mark thrashes. “Did you hear him? He threatened me!” he yells, voice cracking.
Everyone shrugs. Jude smirks. “I just heard you whine like a little girl.”
Chris and another officer drag Mark outside. Dex turns back to Penny, his voice soft again. “I’m sorry it took us so long to get here.”
Penny looks up at him from my arms.“Thank you,” she whispers.
Sirens wail in the distance, blue and red lights flickering through the pine trees, but nothing matters except the weight of her against me.“You’re safe now, baby,” I murmur.“We’ve got him. He’s never leaving prison.”
She trembles, voice a whisper against my chest."Cas..."
“Did he…” I swallow hard, glancing at her torn blouse and open skirt.“Did he hurt you like that?”
“No,” she whispers, her hand rising to my face, forcing my eyes back to hers.“He was trying, but you… you saved me.” Tears fall from her whiskey-colored eyes, and I silently thank God again for old man Carlson.
CHAPTER 22
