“Low priority?” The words tore out of me like shrapnel. “She was attacked. In her own home.”
“I know, Liam. But without evidence or her going public?—”
“She’s not going public.” I hit the runway at a jog. “She’s coming here.”
A pause.
“To Texas?” Diana asked, incredulous.
“To where I can keep her safe.”
She exhaled slowly. “Liam… you know he won’t just give up. If he’s this obsessed, this calculated—he’ll follow her.”
“Let him try.” My voice was cold. Dead calm. The dangerous kind of calm.
“Let him fucking try to get to her here.” I’d like to see the bastard try.
“Liam—”
“Thanks for the intel, Diana. I owe you.”
Her voice softened. “Just… be careful. Both of you.”
“One more thing,” I said, stepping into the glow of the hangar lights. “Send me everything. The full case file.”
“That’s—”
“Please.”
A beat. Then a resigned sigh. “Check your email in an hour.” She hesitated. “And Liam? Whoever she is to you… she’s lucky.”
I closed my eyes, the wind stinging them.
“No,” I whispered, stepping toward the jet that would carry me to her. “I’m the lucky one.”
I hung up and jogged up the jet's stairs. Tom Morrison's pilot, Jim Garrett—ex-Air Force, flew combat missions in Afghanistan, now flew rich ranchers around Texas—took one look at my face and didn't bother with pleasantries.
"Mr. Blackwood called. Said it was an emergency." He was already moving toward the cockpit. "Where to, Ranger Walker?"
"LA. Fast as you can make this thing go."
"Yes, sir. We'll be wheels up in three minutes."
The jet's interior was all cream leather and polished wood, the kind of luxury that Tom Morrison wore as easily as his ancient boots. I collapsed into a seat, suddenly aware of the adrenaline shaking through my system. My hands were trembling—not from fear, but rage. Rage that something terrible happened to Stephy. Rage that I wasn’t there to stop it. Just pure, white-hot rage.
As the engines spooled up, I pulled out my phone again, started making lists. Charlie at Austin PD could run background on her security team. Rodriguez at the Rangers could check for similar stalking patterns, see if this matched any known predators. My buddy Tommy at LAPD might be able to get me more than Diana could through official channels.
My phone started buzzing with texts.
Sophia:Owen told us. I'm getting her room ready. Tell her we love her.
Clay:Anyone who hurt her is a dead man walking.
Maggie:I'll cook. Comfort food. The works.
Even Hunter, who never texted anyone:Property secured. She'll be safe.
This was my family. Except for Soph, they'd never officially met Stephy, but they were ready to protect her like she'd been born a Blackwood. Because in all the ways that mattered, she was already one of us. The girl who'd held me through the worstnight of my life. The woman I'd loved since I was fifteen years old. The only person outside my family who really knew me.
