“Sheriff Tate,” Thomas said smoothly when the call connected. “You should have insisted that your daughter marry me.”
Trigger felt it before he heard it.
The distantthumprolled through the forest like a heartbeat out of rhythm.
Then another.
Rylie stiffened beside him. “What is that?”
Trigger’s face went cold.
“Explosives,” he said. “Crude. Loud.”
Town-side.
His radio crackled to life a second later—Wolf’s voice tight, furious.
“Trigger—we’ve got fires near the edge of town. One of the old storage buildings. Civilians are clear, but this is a message.”
Rylie’s breath left her in a rush. “Thomas.”
Trigger closed his eyes once.
There it was.
The fatal error.
Thomas had shifted the battlefield.
And in doing so, he’d stepped into Trigger’s real strength.
Thomas called the Tavern.
“You hear that?” Thomas said smugly into the phone as Wolf listened. “That’s what happens when people stop listening to me.”
Wolf’s voice dropped to ice. “You just signed your death warrant.”
Thomas laughed. “No. I just reminded you who controls the fear.”
He ended the call and turned to Diego, eyes alight now—too bright, too reckless.
“Now,” Thomas said, “the Ranger comes to us.”
Back in the forest, Trigger opened his eyes.
“No,” he said quietly. “Now I end this.”
Rylie looked at him—really looked—and saw it.
The calm was gone.
What remained was precision.
“He wanted leverage,” Trigger said. “He chose the wrong kind.”
He turned west again—but this time, not to run.
To finish it.
