"Yes."
"And when you come home, you tell me it's done. You don't tell me what you did. You tell me it's done."
"Yes, Dakota. I promise."
She kisses me hard. The kind of kiss that tastes like sleep, anger, and the love that's been between us for longer than we care to admit.
Then she pulls back. "Go."
I do.
Phantom's at the kitchen table when I get there, coffee already in his hand.
Holt's across from him eating a plate of eggs Marlena likely made.
Roan's at the sink washing his hands.
"She up?" Phantom asks me.
"Yeah."
"She fight you?"
"She fought."
"Good. She's a Lyle. Wouldn’t expect anything less." He stands up and drains his coffee. "Holt's running the property. Wells, Tread, and Bullseye on perimeter. Banshee comes with us."
"Yes, Prez."
"Cash and his men will meet us there. They've had eyes on Asher's barn since last night. Asher comes in at five-thirty every morning to feed before his crew shows up. We'll be inside the barn tomorrow morning, waiting for him."
Roan dries his hands and turns from the sink. "Are we taking trucks?"
"Two," Phantom says. "You and your man in yours. Spur, Banshee, and me in mine."
He looks at me. "Six hours to Big Spring. Let’s move."
We all head out, get in our trucks, and hit the road.
The drive across the panhandle goes slow.
The hill country gives way to brush country and gives way to the flat brown stretches west of San Angelo.
Phantom drives. I'm in the passenger seat.
Banshee is in the back with a thermos and a bag at his feet that I know for a damn fact has his folding knife, his paracord, his cleaning kit, and his personal Smith & Wesson.
Roan and his man, a brother named Coyote, are in the F-350 behind us.
We don't talk much for the first three hours.
Around Sweetwater, Phantom breaks the quiet. "Spur."
"Yes, Prez?"
"You get the kill shot."
I look at him.
