Page 129 of Last Man Standing

Istand on crackling grass in softly falling snow, surrounded by just a dozen men, because the rest are busy in the woods bordering our property, exactly where I put them since our security sensors fritzed out overnight. Forty-seven alerts in less than an hour, because the snow is messing with our technology and wild animals are on the move as they search for somewhere safe to spend the winter.

I bring my eyes up and make sure Scarlett is exactly where I left her.

In my window, hugging her knees and mutilating her poor thumbnail.

She hates this place so much that she’s ignoring her brother, and not even her notebooks provide a distraction anymore.

I wear a radio on my shoulder that crackles with information from everyone else sharing the same channel—seventeen sensors have been fixed, rewired, or replaced completely. Fifty-three remaining—then I bring my focus back down to my phone before Linc loses his patience.

Me:

She’s in my room.

Lincoln:

With you? You have eyes on her right now?

Me:

I’m outside, but I see her in the window. I have eyes on her.

I fill my lungs and ignore Mav’s curious side-eye from twenty feet away.

Me:

When you’re here, I need to talk to you about some shit.

Lincoln:

What shit? Talk to me now.

My phone rings before I have time to reply and tell him no. His name flashes across my screen. Just like Scarlett said at dinner, Lincoln Castro is cold and calculating, logical and formidable… unless we’re discussing his sister. When she’s involved, all bets are off, and the control he carries like armor basically dissipates into thin air.

Shaking my head, I answer and press the phone to my ear. “You need to calm the fuck down, stupid. You have a job, remember?”

“What shit do you need to talk about?” he barks right back. He’s on the road, the hum of his tires buzzing along the line. “Tell me now so I can focus.”

“Focus on what you’re doing.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale a groaning sigh. “We need to put this to bed, because she’s losing her mind over here. She’s so fucking unhappy at my house, it’s making me sick. The faster you work, the better this will go for her.”

“The faster I work, the sooner you get rid of her?” He growls in the back of his throat. “You had your fun and now you’re bored, Jameson? You’re pushing my sister out the fucking door?”

“No! If I had it my way, I’d keep her here forever. But this isn’t where she wants to be, and if we’re not careful, she might start chewing through the fuckin’ walls to escape. She needs you like she needs air.”

Like I need her.

“Just hurry up and deal with this mess. If you can do it without shattering her heart, that’d be an extra bonus.”

A deep grunt reverberates from his end of the line. Rage and dread. The truth of what we know, and the secrets he thinks he’s figured out… but hopes he’s wrong. “She loses, no matter what.”

I drop my chin to my chest. “Yep.”

“That keeps happening to my sister, Jameson. She’s a good girl, but for some reason, the world keeps smacking her down. It’s pissing me off.”

“We don’t know that Mills is our guy yet. We think,” I add before he can argue. “All arrows point back to that motherfucker. But until we know…”

“I’ve found money landing in his bank account every single month, Jameson! The same amount, on the same day, every month since she first made a report about Roy hurting her.”

“Which doesn’t look great, but⁠—”