Because my cowboy just came home.
Chapter 11-Sawyer
Iround the bend, and there she is.
Lil Bit.
For half a second, everything in me just stops.Then my pulse slams back to life, hammering so hard it’s like I’ve got a second engine under my ribs.
The rig rumbles to a stop beside the garage, brakes squealing, but it’s background noise.Static.
Because the only thing that matters—the only thing I can see—is her.
She’s standing in the late light like the day saved its best glow just for her.Her hair catches the sun and burns dark russet at the ends.
Her smile—hopeful, uncertain—hits me like a body blow, knocking the breath right out of me.
Benji’s in the backseat, chewing himself to pieces over his old man and the way Ace Gunner’s been trying to drag us through the mud.
Micah’s already got the tablet out, security feed running, scanning every angle for breaches before we even unload the trailer.
Me?
I’m not thinking about cattle or contracts or logistics.
I’ve got something else gnawing at the inside of my skull.
Her.
Ever since Rooster told me the bastard I left bloodied on the side of the road—the one with the gang who tried to jack our load—was the same sick son of a bitch who’d been harassing her, I haven’t been right.
There’s this sound in my head I can’t shut off.
A low, constant snarl.
I can still see his eyes when I hit him.Wild.Unbroken.
Like he wanted it—like he was itching for another round.And that thought’s been driving me insane for days.
Because if he’s still out there, then she’s still in danger.
And that?That’s not acceptable.
Destiny’s Enforcers MC has been clear.Once this deal’s wrapped, they’re taking the women back with them until the heat dies down.Safer that way.Cleaner.
But the thing is—when it comes to her, I’ve got something to say about that.
If she’ll hear it.
Because my Lil Bit?She’s not leaving this ranch unless it’s her choice.
She can stay right here.With me.
I’ll keep her safe.
Hell, I think Ineedto keep her safe.
And yeah, maybe that’s selfish as all hell, but I don’t give a damn.Every mile of road I’ve driven without her has been a slow burn of need and worry and this aching, restless pull I can’t shake.
