“Yeah.” I heaved a deep sigh. “But once I told them about my plans, we spent most of it with them lecturing me.”
She made a sympathetic sound. “They’re giving you a hard time about it?”
I traced a seam on the comforter with my finger. “Yeah, John thinks I’m being too sentimental. He keeps talking about maintenance costs and market value. He’s pretty sure I’m going to regret the decision later.”
Bex snorted. “Then he doesn’t know you as well as he thinks he does.”
“Right?” I shook my head. “I get it, though. He’s so used to viewing land through the lens of how it can be developed, so he doesn’t get why I’d want to stay on the ranch forever.”
“What about Justin?”
I rolled my eyes. “He wasn’t quite as judgmental, but he’s such a city guy. Neither of them can picture me out there alone. They still see me as their sweet little sister who needs protecting.”
“Yeah, I get how it feels to be on the receiving end of that with how my dad is with me.”
Bex’s father was the sheriff down there, so she absolutely understood my frustration. “I get why they’re worried. I’m alittle nervous too. But deep down, I know this is the right decision.”
“And your grandfather believed in your dream. He wouldn’t have given you the land if he didn’t.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, filled with sadness yet again that he wouldn’t be here to see what I’d do with it.
“I don’t want to kill your buzz,” she murmured. “But the ranch is basically an island in the middle of Black Crowns territory now. I’m not sure if you’re aware that they’ve bought up everything around it over the past several years. Maybe that’s part of why your big brothers are so worried.”
I’d never interacted with anyone from the club, but my grandfather had mentioned them several times over the years. “I can’t imagine that I need to worry about them. Grandpa always said they’re good men, and he was a great judge of character.”
“Maybe, but everyone around here knows not to cross them because they’re scary dudes,” Bex added. “My dad doesn’t seem to hate them, or to be in a rush to arrest any of them. But he’s always told me to stay clear. And it’s not just him being overprotective. They’re dangerous.”
A flicker of unease stirred in my stomach, but I refused to give in to it. “I’m not going to let them scare me off my grandfather’s land. If the Black Crowns are surrounding the ranch, then I guess we’ll all just have to learn to coexist. I’m not running.”
And the same went for Brogan Rourke. It didn’t matter that my grandfather wanted him to have first right of refusal because Rutledge Ranch was my home now.
2
STRYKER
Judge found me in Black Castle’s Protective Intelligence Operations Center a little after five, one shoulder braced against the edge of an analyst’s station while I reviewed a revised route package for a client moving through Central America. The campus sat on the western edge of Sable Canyon, all glass, stone, dark steel, and polished corporate efficiency on the surface. But nothing about the secure garages, layered access controls, surveillance divisions, training classrooms, or armed response personnel existed for show.
“Got word.” Judge waited until I signed off on the movement plan before lowering his voice enough that only I heard him. “Otis’s heir arrived at the ranch about forty minutes ago.”
I straightened, passing the tablet back to the analyst before I turned toward the exit. “Why the fuck am I only hearing about it now?”
“Because I heard three fucking minutes ago,” Judge returned, falling into step beside me. I knew him too well to miss the sliver of amusement sitting behind his eyes. “Estate attorney called to confirm they took possession of the property. Drove down from San Jose this morning and plans to stay a few days.”
I glanced down at the black tailored suit I’d worn for a client meeting and felt my patience thin. “I’m heading back to the clubhouse to change. That gives him enough time to unload whatever city-boy shit he brought before we ride over, explain the situation, and help him understand that loading it right back up is the smart choice.”
Judge’s mouth twitched as we crossed through the secured corridor toward the executive exit. “You want me to do the explaining, or are you planning to open with that heartwarming pitch?”
“I’ll make the offer. You’ll lay out the legal and security issues in a way that makes accepting it sound like his idea.” I pushed open the exterior door into the restricted parking area. “You’ve talked worse men into smarter choices.”
“Usually because they were out of better options.”
We reached my truck, and I lifted my chin at him before climbing into the cab. When I drove out, I left the western edge of town behind as I turned northeast into the backcountry. The drive from Black Castle to the compound took us out of the clean corporate edge of Sable Canyon and into the northeastern backcountry.
Rook Holdings and the club controlled thousands of contiguous acres around the clubhouse—buffer land, private roads, natural ridgelines, training areas, and enough monitored approaches to make wandering in by accident nearly impossible. The compound looked like nothing at all until someone reached the gate, and by then every brother on duty already knew who they were, what they drove, and whether they had any business being there.
I kept a room at the clubhouse, so I was able to change out of my suit as soon as I got there, trading polished black fabric for worn jeans, boots, a black T-shirt, and my cut. Judge met me in the hall twenty minutes later with his suit jacket gone andleather over his shoulders, looking far more like the enforcer he was when he wasn’t turning arrogant attorneys into cautionary tales.
We were halfway to the entrance when Hawkeye stepped out of the armory, fastening the cuff of his riding jacket, his gaze moving from Judge to me before settling on the purpose in my stride.
