The rest of the Valor Ridge family arrived in a rush.
Ghost appeared first, silent and deadly as his namesake, his cold gray eyes taking in every detail of the scene. “Fuck. How did he get through my security?”
“He hijacked Greta’s truck,” Bear said.
Ghost cursed in a creative string of profanity.
Walker and Johanna were right behind Ghost. Walker was already on his phone, calling the authorities.
“Is Greta okay?” Jo asked.
“She will be,” Bear said, his voice tight with barely contained fury. “Lila’s with her.”
Naomi came next, her steady gaze moving from Landry to Maggie and back again. Without a word, she pulled zip ties from her pocket—Maggie wasn’t even surprised she carried them—and knelt beside Landry.
“You have the right to remain silent,” she said, voice clipped and professional as she secured his wrists. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
“You’re not a cop,” Landry spat, wincing as the plastic cut into his already-raw wrists.
“No, I was FBI,” Naomi corrected. “Now I’m Tribal Police, and you’re trespassing on reservation-adjacent property. Among other things.”
River and X appeared around the side of the cabin, having clearly run all the way from the main house. Jonah and Jax were right behind them.
“Holy shit,” Jonah breathed, taking in the bloodied snow, the splintered door. “We heard Bramble from the house. Sounded like he was tearing someone apart.”
“He was.” Anson’s voice was rough with emotion. He looked up at the assembled group, something like wonder crossing his face. “You all came.”
“Course we did,” Walker said. “You’re family.”
Johanna edged past them all to get into the cabin, then returned moments later with a blanket that she draped around Maggie’s shoulders. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”
“No.” She clutched the blanket around herself with one hand, the other still buried in Bramble’s fur. “Not in there. Not right now.”
The memory of being pinned against that wall, Landry’s arm crushing her throat, was too fresh. She couldn’t go back in, not yet.
Without a word, Anson scooped her up into his arms. She thought he’d carry her to his cot in the forge, but instead he headed for the bunkhouse.
“Where are we going?”
“My bunkroom. The forge is too far away from everyone else.”
She nodded, too exhausted to argue. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving her shaky and nauseous. Her throat throbbed where Landry had pressed against it, and her wrists felt raw from his grip.
Behind them, Landry tried to struggle to his feet, but X planted a boot firmly between his shoulder blades, pressing him back down.
“Stay down, pendejo. Unless you want me to finish what Bramble and Anson started.”
Bramble’s ears perked up at his name, and X laughed. “Yeah, big guy. You did good.”
“Wait.” She pushed against Anson until he stopped walking. She looked over his shoulder at Landry, who glared up at her from the snow, blood still trickling from his split lip. “I want him to hear this.”
Anson tensed, but he turned and gave her the chance to face the man who had terrorized her for years.
“Landry, listen to me very closely. Even if you weren’t crazy as fuck, I’d never take you back. I’m never working with you again. In fact, you are never working at HDN again, period. Or anywhere else if I can help it. And if you ever come after me or anyone I love again…”
She swallowed against the pain in her throat and looked up at Anson. He was angry and terrified—she saw it all in his eyes—but he held her with such tenderness. That was something Landry had never been capable of, even on his best day.
She looked back down at Landry. “You come after us again, I won’t stop him from killing you next time.”
