“Is it Diaz?”she asked.“Patrol?”
“No,” he said.“He's pouring something.I think it's gas.”
Her face drained of color.“Oh my God.”
He grabbed his phone from the end of the table and started punching in Diaz’s number.“I just dialed Diaz.Get her out here.If this goes sideways, you call nine-one-one.”
“You're not going out there alone.”She took a step toward him.
“Sabrina.”He caught her shoulders, firm but gentle.“He is not lighting up your future while I watch from a window.”
“That's what he wants,” she said.Her voice shook.“He wants you out there.He wants to drag you into this, too.”
“What he wants is not on the list of things I care about right now,” Colby said.“What I want is you safe inside this trailer, with a locked door between you and him.”
Her fingers tightened on his wrists.“Colby.”
“I'll be careful,” he said.“You talk to Diaz.Tell her he's here.Stay low and away from the door.You do not come outside.Promise me.”
Her eyes flashed.Fear.Fury.The instinct to bolt and the instinct to fight, both crowding in.
“Promise me,” he repeated, softer.
She swallowed.“Fine.But if you don't come back in one piece, I am haunting you.”
He almost smiled.“Deal.”
He kissed her forehead, quick and hard, then stepped into his boots by the trailer door.No jacket.Adrenaline had already taken care of the cold.
She snapped the latch behind him as he eased the door open.
Night wrapped around him.Dark field.Dark trees.The only light came from the low glow near the cabin frame and the faint spill from the moon at his back.
He hugged the trailer’s shadow until his eyes adjusted.The framed cabin loomed ahead like a sketch against the darker trees.At its base, a figure hunched near one of the pier blocks, working in quick, practiced movements.
The man tipped the can.Liquid sloshed across raw boards and dirt.
Colby’s jaw clenched.
He stepped off the packed path and into the grass, trading the crunch of gravel for a softer sound.His ribs twinged as he moved, but he didn't slow down.
The man straightened.The can hung from one hand.Light caught the small object in the other.
A lighter.
“Hey!”Colby shouted.
The man jerked, shoulders hunching.The lighter flared once, then snapped shut as he spun.
For a fraction of a second, they stared at each other across the open space.
The brim of a cap shadowed the man’s features.Colby saw the outline of his jaw, the set of his shoulders, the way his stance screamed fight before it ever landed on flight.
“You picked the wrong land,” Colby said.
The man didn't answer.He dropped the gas can and took two long strides toward the frame, lighter hand rising again.
Colby didn't think.He ran.
