“You did the right thing,” I told her. “He can’t force you to marry him.”
The door downstairs creaked.
Every Ranger in the apartment went still.
Beast’s voice drifted up from the stairs. “We got company.”
Havoc’s hand went to his weapon.
Saint’s eyes narrowed.
Rylie’s face went white.
I stood and moved between her and the door.
“Stay behind me,” I ordered.
Her voice trembled. “Trigger—don’t—”
I didn’t look back.
Because if I looked at her, I might promise something I couldn’t guarantee.
I listened to the footsteps on the front porch.
Measured.
Confident.
A man who believed the world belonged to him.
Thomas Thorn’s voice floated up, smooth as sin.
“Rylie,” he called. “Sweetheart. Come on. Let’s not do this. Everyone is still at the church waiting.”
My blood went ice cold.
I stepped to the top of the stairs.
And smiled.
“Wrong door,” I said.
6
Rylie
Trigger’s smile scared me more than Thomas’s charm ever had.
Because Thomas’s charm was fake. A mask. I knew that all along.
Trigger didn’t wear a mask.
Trigger was the storm.
Thomas’s footsteps stopped as he walked inside the tavern. Why was the front door unlocked?
“I’m sorry,” Thomas said, voice polite, like he’d bumped into a stranger at a fundraiser. “Who are you again?”
