“Boone?” she whispers.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” I pull her close without thinking.
“I’m sorry I woke you.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.”
She hesitates. “Do you really want this?”
I tip her chin up. “More than anything. You’re my family. Don’t let her poison win.”
She burrows into my chest, and I hold her until her breathing evens out.
We fall asleep tangled together, but the feeling in my gut doesn’t fade.
Danger isn’t just a possibility.
It’s already here.
28
CHANCE
Mornings on the mountain are usually quiet and predictable, but not this one. I lace up my boots before the sun has even thought about rising, grab my gloves, and step outside into the sharp bite of cold air.
The world is covered in a thin layer of fresh snow which is perfect for tracking. And that’s exactly what I came out here to do. Luck is on our side for a change.
I start my usual perimeter run, my lungs burning from the cold as I jog along the tree line. The snow muffles everything except the crunch of my boots. About fifteen minutes in, at the southern edge of the property, I stop short.
There are fresh boot prints in the snow, and I know immediately they don’t belong to any of us. No way Dillon came out for an early-morning walk, and Boone is still curled up with Rox. I checked on them before I left.
My heart clenches as I drop into a crouch, my fingers hovering over the impressions. The tread pattern is heavy, deep, and size eleven.
Whoever left these has a longer stride, their weight settling into their heels. They’ve been here a while judging by the overlapping prints, the snow compacted in places the way it only gets when someone stays put.
My head whips around. The line of sight is immediately obvious. A straight through the break in the trees, directly toward the master bedroom windows. A cold spike slides down my spine. I pull out my phone and take pictures from every angle.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter as I stand.
Someone was way too close last night, watching us from just out of sight of our cameras. I don’t run the rest of the way back.
I sprint.
The guys are already up when I slam through the mudroom door. Dillon has coffee going, Boone pacing by the fireplace. I burst in and don’t even stop to breathe.
“I found something.”
They look up immediately. I motion for them to come closer, then pull out my phone and show them the photos. “Those boot prints are fresh. Southern border. Someone camped there for a while, staring straight at your bedroom window.”
Boone swears under his breath. “Fuck. She got into bed with me early this morning.”
Dillon’s eyes flick over the pictures. “Do you think it’s Rossi?”
“It could be,” I say, then glance back at Boone. “Look, I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but the timing is too damn convenient. He doesn’t show up out here the same day you tell Tessa to go fuck herself unless she’s in on it.”
Boone rakes both hands through his hair. “Fuck.”
“Showing up when she did wasn’t an accident,” I say, absolutely, one hundred percent convinced. “Either someone sent her or she’s been paid to bring eyes with her, but she’s working with them. Dillon, dig into her finances. See what you can find. I’m right. I know it.”
