She stops at the door, her palm light against my chest, her fingers rising to the cut under my eye. When she grazes it, the sting is strong—but not half as strong as my guilt.
I turn my face, jaw tight. Can’t let her see too much.
"Trouble," she says, soft but firm. "Looks like you already took care of it. I don’t wanna know the details, but listen to me—you don’t keep messing with those Kennedys. Don’t make me worry. You hear me?”
My eyes meet hers, holding back the fire behind them best I can.
"No, Mama. We’re the ones they need to worry about.”
I kiss her forehead, then turn back to the night—rage cooled to a slow, deadly burn. The Kennedys lit a fuse. It’s all on them if they need to find out just how far the fire spreads.
"Kennedys are at the property line," Danger says, searching the security cameras on his phone.
"Fuck. Now what? They haven't had enough tonight?" I ask, already preparing for round two.
"Maybe they want a truce," Charming offers. We turn to him, three sets of eyes shadowed with doubt.
My fingers brush the cool metal tucked in my waistband, checking it’s right where it needs to be. Danger swings open the truck door, and we climb in without a word. The tire treads dig into the dirt as we roll across the land, tension thick in the air. Up ahead, headlights cut through the dark—waiting.
We pull alongside them, engines rumbling low like a warning. Doors creak open. Boots hit the ground.
The Kennedys show their faces—just the older ones. Not the two Rogue and I just left limping and leaking pride all over the dirt. They’re most likely laid up somewhere, crying, icing their egos, and praying we don’t come back to finish the job. Keeping their distance for now. Smart move.
"You boys missed out on all the fun we just had," I drawl, a smirk playing at the corner of my mouth. "You two up next?"
“Your truck blew up,” Wade Kennedy snaps, stepping forward, boots grinding into gravel like it’s supposed to intimidate us. “But you laid hands on our blood. That’s a whole different kind of war.”
“And that truck?” Danger cuts in, his voice low andlethal. “Could’ve been our mother you torched. So don’t act like your hands are clean.”
The air stretches tight between us, charged like a storm about to break. A coyote howls in the distance, like the land itself is putting out a warning of what’s about to come.
Trey’s eyes lock with mine, hard as stone. “My brothers better walk away from this. Every breath they take better come easy—’cause if not, you’ll all pay for it.”
“You really wanna test us?” I ask, my voice dangerous. “They’re lucky we let ’em crawl away. Hell, you’re lucky if we don’t finish what you started right here.”
His gaze snaps to me like a trigger cocking. “I see that blood on your hands, Trouble. Should’ve known this bullshit had you written all over it.”
Rogue steps up beside me, tense and ready. “Here’s an idea—how about you stick to your damn fence line, and we’ll stick to ours?”
Trey spits a wad of dip into the dirt. “Too late for all that now.” Then he turns, fury simmering in his shoulders as he walks back to his truck.
The dust still clings to the air after they take off, and we watch the Kennedys' truck disappear into the night.
"Too late? The hell does that mean?” Rogue asks like the rest of us have an answer.
“Just empty threats, I’m sure,” Danger answers.
“Did y'all have to beat their asses?" Charming asks, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. "Couldn't we have just talked this out like men?"
"They decided their fate when they messed with Mama. Their decision, not ours," I explain with one last look at the horizon. The darkness swallows everything, even the lingering thoughts of their threats.
fourteen
Sawyer
First thing I spot when I roll up on Daddy’s land is Knox hurlin’ a bale of hay off his truck like a damn throw pillow. Ah yes—nothing like sweat, dust, and a full dose of big-brother sass to kick off the morning.
"Are you ever going to explain what the hell last night was about?"
