Page 104 of Breaking His Exile

He snapped it up. “Don’t fucking touch her. I need time to get there.”

Silence.

Then Mal’s voice, cool and amused. “You have until eleven. The clock’s running.”

Evander said nothing. He wanted to throw the phone, but set it down with care and turned to Greta.

“I need your Jeep,” he said. It would be better on the ruts downhill than the ranch truck he’d driven up.

She handed him the keys without hesitation. “Go. I’ll take the truck back.” She caught his hand before he drew away. “But call the ranch. Don’t go alone.”

He picked up the satellite phone and dialed Valor Ridge as he ran for the Jeep.

Walker answered on the second ring. “Cole, what’s wrong?”

Evander slid in behind the wheel, and he said the words he had never once said to anyone in his life. “I need your help.”

twenty-nine

He drove Greta’s Jeep through the gate at speed, gravel spitting under the tires. The main house lights were on and men were already moving in the yard because Walker had called them the minute he hung up the phone.

Evander killed the engine and jumped out of the Jeep. His ribs had settled into a dull, constant ache that he could work around if he kept his breathing shallow. The stitches in his side pulled when he moved.

None of it mattered.

Walker stood on the porch with his hat off, which Evander had learned meant something serious was happening. Bear came out of the infirmary at a jog, wiping his hands on a towel, and behind him Jonah materialized from the barn with Jax right behind. X crossed from the bunkhouse, still pulling a jacket on over his tee. Even Anson, the quiet farrier who usually preferred the company of horses and his fiancée Maggie over anyone else, was there. Evander had only ever seen him a handful of times, and they’d never spoken.

Brandt’s SUV sat near the equipment shed, the marshal himself leaning against the hood with his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on Evander like he’d been waiting.

River wasn’t there.

Walker met him at the bottom of the steps. “Inside. Now.”

The main house kitchen held the warmth of Johanna’s coffee and the particular silence of men who understood the difference between a problem and an emergency. Walker took the head of the table. Bear stood against the counter with his arms folded, his face set in the expression Evander had come to recognize as medical concern, trying very hard not to look like medical concern. Jonah took the chair beside Walker. X dropped into one near the door. Jax remained standing, his back to the wall.

Brandt came in last. He closed the door and leaned against it.

“Where’s Ghost?” Evander asked.

“Security shed.” Walker’s voice was flat. “Pulling satellite images. He’ll patch in when he has something.”

Evander set the satellite phone on the table. The green light blinked. He looked at the faces around him and said the words he’d carried from the cabin.

“Mal Granger has Rainey. He wants me at the turnout on County Road 14 where the power lines cross. Alone. Unarmed. I have until eleven o’clock to show up, or he kills her.” He kept his voice level. Military briefing. Nothing extra. “He’s got Hobbs with him. At least one other man. Maybe more.”

The room absorbed it. Bear’s jaw tightened. X’s fingers went still on the table. Jax didn’t move, but something in his eyes shifted, the way a scope adjusts.

“County 14 runs east of the ranch about eight miles,” Walker said. “Turnout’s a gravel pullout. Good sightlines in three directions. Bad ground for an approach.”

“Gemma drove her there.”

The voice came from the doorway. River stood in the frame, one hand on the jamb, his face white. He’d been crying.

“Gemma took her.” River’s voice cracked. “Said she was helping Rainey find you.” He looked at Evander. “I heard the side-by-side. Thought nothing of it. She’s always up early. Always wandering.” His hand dropped from the doorframe. “She’s been texting Mal updates for six weeks. Since before Rainey ever got here.”

The room went quiet.

River’s shoulders hunched. He braced both hands on the back of a chair, and his head dropped. “She slept in my bed. For a month. Every night. I told her things—” He stopped. His knuckles went white on the chair. “I showed her the security cameras. The blind spots. I walked her through the whole fucking ranch because I thought she was—” His breath came ragged, and he looked at Jax, Bear, and Anson. “My Nessie. My Greta. My Maggie. I thought she—” He broke off. Couldn’t finish it.