Caleb’s breathing turns erratic. “He wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do that.”
I think about Abigail tucked between those trees.
Watching.
I think about what these men put her through, what they’ve done to her sister. “You were convenient,” I remind him. “That’s all.”
Caleb’s eyes fill with realization. “He said we’d stick together,” he mutters. “He said family—”
“Family doesn’t run,” I reply.
Lawson steps closer, and Beau stands off to my left.
Jasper, bleeding but upright, watches from his spot in the clearing
Caleb’s gaze darts between us. “You don’t have to do this,” he says quickly. “I can tell you things. I can tell you—”
“Where is she?” Beau cuts in.
Caleb swallows. “I—I don’t know exactly. Grayson and Victor handled that.”
Wrong answer.
Rage pulses hot and sharp—but almost immediately settles into something colder as memories of Abbie’s lifeless body flash before my eyes.
“You almost killed her,” I say. He doesn’t know if I’m talking about Abigail or Kat, and honestly, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that the woman I love almost died. And one of the men responsible is in my grasp.
Caleb shakes his head violently. “I didn’t touch her. I swear. I didn’t—”
“You were there.”
Silence.
Snow starts to fall lightly around us now.
Caleb looks so small like this.
So breakable.
“Please,” he whispers.
I don’t feel anger anymore.
Just certainty.
Slowly, I climb off of Caleb. “If any of us catches you again, you’ll wish you were dead. Leave. Now.”
With wide eyes, Caleb looks between Lawson, Beau, and me before standing.
A branch snaps behind me.
Glancing toward the trees, I see Abigail step out from behind them, her red hair bright against the snow.
“Abbie—” I start.
Snow crunches behind me, followed by the sound of Jasper calling my name.
I turn just in time to see Caleb’s expression change.
