“Which means she doesn’t know what kind of enemies she might have inherited.”
He exhales sharply through his nose. “Sadie had a way of making ghosts.”
“And ghosts like to haunt.”
His silence is all the confirmation I need.
“She’s vulnerable,” I continue. “She doesn’t have the instincts. She doesn’t know when she’s being watched. Doesn’t know when someone’s testing the perimeter to see how fast we respond.”
“She will,” he says, turning back to me. “I’ll make sure she learns.”
I hold his gaze. “We’ll keep her safe.”
His jaw works, but he nods. “Good.”
He pauses before adding, “What do you want me to do when we find out who cut the fence?”
I don’t hesitate. “Make sure they understand the land doesn’t forgive trespass.”
He nods. “Understood.”
“This name—our name—still carries weight,” he continues. “Even in L.A., the Black Diamond legacy turns heads and closes mouths. If Sadie was running her mouth about Peyton’s lineage to get her hands on all that product…that makes her a target.”
“No,” I say coldly. “It makes her protected.”
I let the words hang between us, but there’s tension in my gut. Protection doesn’t always come with comfort. Sometimesit’s simply another form of control. And Peyton—well, she hasn’t learned yet that kindness here is always conditional.
John watches me with a sharp, unflinching gaze. “What is it you want?”
“I want her watched but not smothered,” I tell him. “Make sure she doesn’t feel like a prisoner, but don’t give her too much rope either.”
“She’s already pulling,” he remarks. “Girl has got a spine.”
I smirk faintly. “Good. She’ll need it.” A heaviness hangs in the air, and I watch the man I call my godfather take a deep breath before downing the rest of his whiskey.
“I was too young to know what happened.” I clench my jaw thinking about the shit Sadie Masterson pulled. “But my father told me everything.”
John shakes his head. “He shouldn’t have.”
I dismiss his words. “I’m going to be the next boss,” I say. “You, like every other person who works under the Black Diamond name, are my family. These are things I need to know.”
John’s lips kick up in one corner, a proud glint in his eyes.
“Make sure you remember,” I warn him, cautiously. “Peyton isn’t her mother. What Sadie did was fucked up and it hurt you, but that girl, your daughter, had nothing to do with it. Don’t hold the sins of that bitch against her. Laurel and Richard are doing that already.”
I rise to leave, pausing at the door.
“One more thing,” I say, glancing over my shoulder. “If someone’s coming for her… they won’t be sending a warning next time. This cut fence? It was a knock.”
“And we don’t answer knocks,” John says darkly.
I nod.
We kick the damn door in.
7
The barn smells of hay,manure, and sweat. The trifecta of country living.
