I tensed as Garrett took a few steps, staring at my sister. Stephie squeezed her eyes closed and whimpered.
“After you survived and I found out you were a cop, I decided to let it go. But you showed up at Phelan’s house and Woodson saw you.”
And the next day, after Woodson had tried to run us off the road, either Garrett or Woodson had left that rock smashed through my window with the yearbook picture of me and Stephie.
Garrett paced back toward me where I was still kneeling. “Now, because ofyou, I’m completely fucked. Woodson is dead. Harris Medina’s crawling all over my operation at Phelan’s place.”
“How is that my fault? You and Woodson decided to run a side business laundering money through Phelan’s accounts. Making shipments in and out of his house. You used the Crosshairs name to do it. Didn’t you think Medina would find out?”
“If you’d stayed away from Phelan, none of it would’ve happened. The whole thing is blown up because of you!” Garrett cocked the gun and aimed it at me.
Stephie screamed. “No,don’t!”
My breath stopped in my throat. The barrel of the gun was a black void pointing straight at my face.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Dean
I flankedthe house to go to the back door. Garrett’s men, assuming Garrett was behind this, would soon come looking for their friends out here.
I planned to be waiting.
I crept up to the back door and peered through a window into the cabin’s small kitchen. The place looked like it was rarely used, more of a hideout than a home. A man stood inside, armed with a shotgun, casually watching the back door. He shifted his weight, the weapon resting against his shoulder.
He wore a ring with a blue stone on his hand.
I picked up a handful of pebbles from the ground and tossed them against the side of the house, away from where I stood. The clatter was small but distinct.
The man’s head snapped toward the sound.
“Come on,” I whispered as heady adrenaline flooded my veins again. “Come out and play.”
The guard moved to the door, shotgun raised. The hinges creaked as he stepped outside. The barrel of his gun swept across the darkness, searching. He didn’t see me.
But I was waiting right beside the door in the shadows.
As soon as he was within reach, I grabbed the shotgun with my left hand, shoving the barrel skyward. He tried to pull the trigger, but I’d already twisted the weapon from his grip. He opened his mouth to yell. My knife slashed across his throat before he could make a sound. He gurgled, clutching at the wound, and I lowered him to the ground as quietly as I could.
That was three down. But how many others were there?
A ringleader, possibly Garrett, would be inside with Keira. That meant at least one more guarding Stephie if she was really here. A third man if they were smart. But the cabin wasn’t huge. Probably no more than one bedroom, that small kitchen, a bathroom, and a main living area.
None of the other guards had raised any alarms yet. The others had no idea their friends were dead, which bought me a little time.
I needed a better view of the inside, so I continued around the house to peer in the windows. The music still thumped, the volume slightly lower now. There were voices coming from inside.
Keira’s voice.
Cold ran through me. Pure rage, so powerful I felt like it could rip me apart. The sensation burned through my chest. Turning my blood to ice and fire at once.
Maybe emotion made people careless, but when it came to Keira, I was nothingbutemotion.
I had to turn that outward. Use it.
At the side of the house, I found a window into a bedroom. There was a light on here, but the curtain was only drawn partway. I carefully glanced in and didn’t see anyone. The bedroom door, leading to the rest of the cabin, was almost entirely closed.
I wondered if I could risk breaking the window to get inside. But then I just tried pushing it open, and it slid.
