And as the team finishes assembling in the drive—boots on gravel, radios crackling, engines idling like restrained violence—I make myself one promise, clear as a shot: we’re bringing Delaney home.
And when we do… someone is going to pay.
SIXTEEN
DELANEY
The little house on Quarry Road smells like cold grease and old beer. And loneliness.
I’m tied to a chair in the living room—wrists bound behind me, ankles cinched to the legs—my boots planted on scuffed linoleum that’s seen too many bad decisions. There’s a sagging couch, a mounted deer head with dusty glass eyes, and a coffee table littered with empty bottles and fast-food wrappers like Kyle Stroud’s version of “setting the scene.”
Kyle paces in front of me like a man trying to outrun his own thoughts.
His nice clothes are rumpled now. His perfect hair is messed up. There’s a dark smear on his knuckle from where I bit him earlier, and he keeps flexing that hand like he can’t decide whether he’s angry at me or impressed.
Behind him, his buddy—big guy, cap pulled low—leans against the kitchen counter, arms folded, watching like this is a movie he paid to see. He hasn’t said much. He doesn’t need to. His silence is the worst kind of intimidation.
Kyle points at me like I’m the problem in an equation.
“You could’ve made this easy,” he says, voice too loud for the size of the room. “You could’ve justcome with me.”
I swallow and force my breathing to stay steady. Panic helps no one. My daddy taught me that when I was ten and a bull got loose at branding:breathe first, think second, move third.
“Kyle,” I say carefully, keeping my voice calm and low, “this isn’t… this isn’t how you get what you want.”
His eyes flash. “I’m not a villain.”
My stomach flips. “You kidnapped me,” I say, the word tasting like rust. “That’s villain behavior.”
He laughs, sharp and shaky. “No, no. This is—” He scrubs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to reorganize his brain. “This is leverage. This is a negotiation. Your daddy’s gonna sell. He’ll have to.”
My wrists ache. I test the rope once—tight. My shoulders scream. I stop. No wasted energy.
“Even if he did,” I say, “you think I’m going to… what? Thank you? Fall into your arms because you took away my choice?”
Kyle’s pacing stops so abruptly it’s like he hit a wall. His face shifts into something raw and weirdly wounded. “I was going to give you everything,” he says, voice cracking at the edges. “A house. Security. A future. Your parents wouldn’t have to work themselves to death on the ranch. You wouldn’t have to run back to the city and pretend you’re happy.”
My throat tightens. “You don’t know me.”
“I do,” he insists, stepping closer. Too close. His cologne punches into my lungs. “I watched you. I’ve been watching you since high school. Since you looked at Hawthorne like he hung the moon and he didn’t even deserve you?—”
“Don’t,” I bite out, a flare of rage cutting through the fear. “Don’t say his name like you understand anything about him.”
Kyle’s mouth twists. “He’s a broken soldier playing cowboy.”
My heart slams against my ribs. “You aredelusional,” I whisper. “You’re not in love. You’re obsessed. Those aren’t the same thing.”
His eyes go glassy, like the words don’t compute. Then his expression hardens, the mask sliding back into place. “You’ll understand,” he says, too calm. “You’re just scared right now. Once your daddy signs, once the ranch is mine, I’ll show you what it looks like when a man actually takes care of you.”
My stomach turns. “Let me go,” I say. “Right now. Before you make this worse.”
Kyle laughs again, but this time it’s frantic. “Worse? You think this is worse?” He gestures wildly at the room. “This is a start. This is me fixing things. This town owes my family. Your family owes my family. And you…” His gaze sweeps me like I’m a prize he already won. “You owe me.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I say, voice shaking but clear.
His buddy shifts behind him, watching the windows like he finally remembered this isn’t actually a private fantasy—it’s a crime scene waiting to happen.
Kyle points at me again, angry now. “You were supposed tochoose me.I gave you every chance. I gave your daddy an offer. I gave you?—”
