Main Street looks like a postcard from hell.
The sun has set, and the streetlights cast long, yellow shadows on the snow. Blue and red lights from a squad car bounce off the storefronts, reflecting in the shards of glass scattered across the sidewalk in front of Peak Wilderness Outfitters.
I park the truck right on the curb, not bothering with a spot. Austin, Shane, and Tristan are already there, forming a wall of black leather and denim in front of the broken window. A few locals gather on the other side of the street, whispering, watching.
I get out, moving around to pull Savannah out. I keep a hand firmly on the back of her neck, guiding her, shielding her body with mine. She wears the jacket. Good. Let them see.
Police Officer Brandon—a young guy, new to the force, who still thinks a badge makes him tough—steps forward. "Mr. Gunnar, we’re handling it. Just a vandalism report."
I walk past him like he’s a ghost. "Shane," I bark.
Shane turns. The Sergeant at Arms looks furious, his jaw working. He steps aside to reveal the jagged hole in the plate glass window, the display of high-end climbing gear covered in glittering debris.
In his hand, he holds a red brick wrapped in a piece of crinkled notebook paper, secured with a rubber band.
"Found it in the middle of the floor," Shane says, handing it to me.
I take it. I slide the paper out.
The handwriting is jagged, scrawled in thick black marker.
MOUNTAIN IS FOR LOCALS. CITY BITCH GOES HOME. OR WE BURY HER HERE.
The world narrows down to a pinprick. The sounds of the street—the police radio, the murmurs of the crowd, the wind—fade into a dull buzz. All I can hear is the rushing of blood in my ears.
They threatened her.
They didn't just attack my business. They threatened my woman.
I hand the note to Savannah. She takes it, her hands trembling. She reads it, and all the color drains from her face. She looks up at me, eyes wide with terror.
"Logan..."
That terror is the fuel. It ignites the powder keg inside me.
I turn to the crowd across the street. I don't know who did it. It could be a drunk. It could be a rival. It could be someone hired by the people on the Eastern Cliffs. It doesn't matter.
"Listen to me!" I roar, my voice booming off the brick facades of the buildings. The chatter stops instantly. Even Police Officer Brandon flinches.
I haul Savannah flush against my side, a growl vibrating deep in my chest as I tuck her into the sanctuary of my arms. I want the cowards in the shadows to see her—to know she acts asthe anchor to my sanity, the only thing on this mountain that matters.
"You see this?" I shout at the street, my voice a promise of the incoming storm. "You send a message with a brick? I’ll send mine with fire. This woman is the heart of Grizzly Peak now. Touch her, and you’re begging for the monster to come out of the woods."
"You think breaking a window scares me? You think a note on a brick changes a goddamn thing?"
I walk toward the police cruiser, glaring at Brandon until he steps back. Then I turn my glare to the shadows, to the dark alleys, to the watchers I know are there.
"This woman," I point a finger back at Savannah, who stands surrounded by Austin and Shane, looking small but resolute in my clothes. "Is family. She wears my patch. She sleeps in my bed. She is under the protection of the Broken Halos Motorcycle Club."
I take a breath, letting the icy air fill my lungs.
"If anyone—and I mean anyone—looks at her wrong, talks to her wrong, or threatens her again... I won't call the police. I won't file a report."
I walk over to the brick Shane still holds. I grab it. With a primal shout, I hurl it into the darkness of the alleyway across the street. It smashes against a dumpster with a deafening clang.
"I will hunt you down," I promise, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper that somehow carries further than the shout. "I will drag you out of whatever hole you’re hiding in, and I will make you beg for death before I’m finished. There is no law that can saveyou from me. There is no place in these mountains where you can hide."
I turn back to Savannah. I march over to her, ignoring the stunned silence of the town. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her hard against my chest, burying my face in her hair. She shakes, but she wraps her arms around my waist, gripping me tight.
