He stands and crosses the room to a metal cabinet that requires a code. The lock clicks. The door swings open. Inside are a few pieces of equipment that look like they belong in a movie, but nothing flashy. Just… serious. Purpose-built.
He sets a small laptop on the desk, the kind with no logo and a matte black shell. He flips it open, plugs a cable into a compact device the size of a deck of cards, and then plugs that into the laptop.
“Air-gapped,” he says, like he’s answering my unspoken question. “This computer doesn’t touch the internet. Not ever.”
My chest tightens, like something bad is about to jump out of the screen and bite me.
A folder opens. Numbers and letters. No names. No explanations. Another password prompt stares back like an unblinking eye.
Gray tries a few things, fast but controlled. His jaw tightens, then he leans back.
“I can’t crack it like this,” he says. “Not yet. It’s layered.”
Knox’s voice is low, steady. “What do you think it is?”
Gray pulls the drive and seals it in a small evidence bag like it’s a live grenade.
“I think it’s information,” he says. “The kind that gets men killed. The kind that gets daughters hunted.”
My throat tightens.
Gray finally looks at me. There’s no softness in his expression, but there’s something careful there. Like he knows exactly how fragile people can be and refuses to treat anyone that way.
“I’m sure your father never intended you to have it,” he says.
Knox goes still behind me. I feel it, like a shift in the air.
Gray continues, “I’ve got people I can call. Former Secret Service. Not the ones who sold their souls. The ones I’d trust with my kid. I’ll ask questions quietly, and I’ll do it fast.”
I nod, because it’s all I can do.
“In the meantime,” Gray says, tapping the evidence bag, “this stays here. Locked up. Off-grid. If that’s okay with you.”
Relief hits so hard it’s almost dizzying. “Of course,” I whisper.
Gray’s gaze shifts to Knox. “And you?”
Knox doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll stay with her.”
Gray studies him for a beat, then gives a single nod like that’s the only answer he expected.
“Good,” he says. “You’ve got the day. Give her a tour. Keep her busy. Keep her on property.” His eyes sharpen. “And Sutton?”
“Yeah.”
“If I call, you pick up.”
Knox’s mouth twitches. “Always.”
We’re dismissed like that.
Not unkindly.
Just efficiently. Like danger doesn’t wait for anyone to feel ready.
Outside, The Ranch is a different kind of alive than Austin.
It’s bigger. Louder. Dust in the air. Fences stretching forever. A few men on horseback moving like they’re part of the land. Somewhere in the distance, I hear a lowing cow and the metallic clank of a gate.
