38
West
Irub my thumb over the compass tattoo on the side of my knuckle as I watch the Fed pace the tiny porch of his cabin. The message Rebel sent back in regard to the goat wasn’t what I’d hoped for.
The man who hurt Summer knew nothing about the brutal killing of the goat. Which means we have an enemy within. Someone who does not belong, but who will never leave here alive.
Phone at his ear, the fed talks to someone in a lowered voice as he unlatches the buttons on his cuffs. He rolls them up one by one to his elbows, revealing unmarked, pale skin. He cups the back of his neck.
Riot said the Fed’s name was Simon Lane.
It’s a coincidence. Another agent working for the FBI whose name is remarkably similar. It’s not him. Unless he’s had the ink removed.
He turns in my direction.
I melt deeper into the shadows as his steps bring him in my direction. An unremarkable man with exhaustion etched into lines around his mouth and eyes.
He’s not the man my sunshine wants back in our lives despite the way he betrayed us. He’s not the man I trusted with my most valuable possession.
But I knew that in the barn. To be that close and not be aware... No, I was certain it wasn’t him.
It should please me more.
When the time is right, I’m going to bring that man to his knees in front of my sunshine. Watch him beg for his life for the pain he’s caused. Make him suffer as much as I have, watching her try to come to grips with our parting.
I unclench my hands, but my chest stays as tight as my fists were.
This man, Simon Lane, is not that man. He’s someone else. Someone with a similar name. Someone who also doesn’t belong and who could tear apart the delicate deception Dizzy and I have built, if we’re not careful.
She found out we had an interloper before I did. Recognized what that could mean for us.
Kissed him like her life depended on it.
I will punish her, but she knew that when she used her wiles to distract him. She needs to remember who that pretty mouth belongs to. And that I don’t look kindly on her putting herself in harm’s way in an attempt to protect me.
She has bright pink hair that makes people look twice. Skim over her exquisite features. The hyperactivity is what most people remember. They describe her as a bouncy, confectionary human being. They barely recollect her turquoise eyes or her high cheekbones or her wickedly bowed lips.
They don’t see my sunshine—my moody, damaged angel. The woman the FBI have on their watch list.
I’m not the person who needs to be protected or kept in the shadows. I’m not the one they think they’re looking for. By the time they realize they should have been hunting me down all along, they won’t be able to touch me.
The man ends his conversation and steps inside. Through the open curtains I watch him as he tosses his phone on the bed next to a brown leather case and strips out of his shirt.
Moving to the window, he scopes the area, then grabs the curtains on both sides and tugs them closed.
Leaving the shadows behind, I head toward the cabin I’m sharing with Dizzy. The little minx is probably up at the main house, avoiding her punishment. But I’m a patient man. She’ll come to me. She’ll crawl and she’ll beg. Until I’m satisfied that she won’t make the same mistake again.
I light up my phone and place a call.
“Kinda busy right now.”
My lips curve up. “Busting someone’s balls?”
“You know it.” Micah’s fingers click over his keyboard. “What’s on the devil’s mind tonight?”
“I need you to look someone up.” I bring up a transfer app and okay the funds he’ll ask for.
“It’ll be the usual fee.”
