As I take a step forward, he sticks his foot out, tripping me. I stumble but manage to catch myself before falling, years of combat training keeping me upright despite the handicap of having my hands bound.
“Stop resisting!” Noah shouts, grabbing the back of my neck and slamming me against one of the support beams of the barn.
“I’m not—” I start to say, but he cuts me off with a backhand across my face, the sharp crack of it echoing through the barn.
“Noah! What the fuck?” Jesse barks, taking a step forward before another deputy restrains him.
I taste blood in my mouth and feel it trickling from the corner of my lips. But instead of anger, a strange calm settles over me. This is exactly what we need—evidence of Noah’s corruption, his personal vendetta clouding his professional judgment.
Slowly, I turn my head back to face him, a smile spreading across my bloodied lips. “You might want to save some of thatfor later,” I tell him quietly. “Because once I’m out of these cuffs and past all this legal bullshit, I’ll be happy to meet you somewhere private to settle the score.”
A flicker of uncertainty passes through his eyes before he masks it with another show of bravado. “Get him out of here,” he says to the nearest deputy, stepping back.
They march us out into the yard where three patrol cars and a transport van wait. The morning sun is bright, making me squint as they guide us toward the vehicles. Ranch hands have gathered at a distance, watching with concerned expressions as their bosses are led away in restraints.
“Tell Aubree what’s happening,” Jesse calls to one of them. “And call Shawn Cooper!” he says, mostly for show. We don’t want them to know that he’s already on his way because he knows we’re getting arrested.
“This sucks,” Austin grumbles from behind us. He’s being led out too, but his hands aren’t bound. He catches my eye and gives me a subtle nod of reassurance. Everything’s going according to plan.
They load us into the transport van—Jesse, Truett, Carson and me—while Austin is placed in one of the patrol cars. The ride to the county jail is tense and silent. The plastic restraints dig into my wrists, and my cheek throbs where Noah struck me. But none of that matters. What matters is that Atlee is safe, unaware of what’s happening. I hope she stays that way until this is resolved.
The county jail is a squat, gray building on the outskirts of town. They lead us inside through a back entrance, avoiding the public areas where we might be seen. We get booked with mugshots and fingerprints. They keep us separated during this process, but I can hear Carson asking repeatedly to speak with his lawyer, following the script perfectly.
After booking, they place us in a holding cell together, minus Austin, who’s been taken elsewhere. The cell is small, designed for temporary holding rather than long-term confinement, with a bench running along three walls and a stainless steel toilet in the corner.
“Well, this is cozy,” Truett remarks, rubbing his wrists where the restraints have left angry red marks.
“Everyone okay?” Jesse asks, looking us each over with concern.
Carson nods, though he looks pale and shaken. This is his first arrest, and despite our planning, the reality of it is clearly hitting him hard.
“Fine,” I answer, though the ache in my jaw suggests Noah’s hit might have done some damage. “Just ready to get this over with.”
“It won’t be long now,” Jesse assures us. “Shawn should be here any minute.”
As if on cue, the door to the holding area opens, and a deputy appears. “Your lawyer is here,” he announces, sounding less than pleased about it.
We’re led to an interview room where Shawn Cooper waits, looking impeccable in a tailored gray suit. Beside him stands Lennon, her blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun, her expression all business.
“Gentlemen,” Shawn greets us as we file in. “Please take a seat.”
Once the door closes behind the deputy, Shawn’s professional demeanor softens slightly. “Well, that happened faster than we anticipated. Austin barely had time to warn everybody before they moved in.”
“How bad is it?” Jesse asks, getting straight to the point. “They told us some shit out there, but I have a feeling it’s more than what they said.”
“They’ve got warrants for all four of you on charges of cattle rustling, conspiracy, and as a special bonus, obstruction of justice,” Shawn explains, opening a folder on the table. “The evidence is largely circumstantial.—the doorbell camera footage Carson discovered, some testimony from Morrison about suspicious vehicles on his property, and what appears to be an anonymous tip about your sudden financial turnaround.”
“What about Austin?” I ask. “Why did they bring him in?”
“Material witness,” Lennon answers, speaking for the first time. “They’re hoping he’ll flip on y’all, not knowing he’s already working with us.”
“Devlin,” Shawn says, frowning as he takes in my face. “What happened there?”
I touch my cheek, wincing slightly. “Noah happened. Said I was resisting arrest.”
“Was anyone else present when this occurred?” Shawn asks, his eyes sharpening with interest.
“All of us,” Jesse confirms. “Plus at least three other deputies.”
