Chapter 5 #2
"So we should just give up? Hand over our ranch and let him win?" Everything in her rebelled against the idea of surrender. Four generations of Bishops had worked this land, bled for it, and she'd be damned if she'd be the one to back down to a criminal because fighting back was inconvenient.
"You and your uncle have a viable option in front of you.
You could take the money and run. Tonight.
Don't pack, don't say goodbye, just get in your truck and drive until you hit a state where the Hollister name doesn't mean anything.
" He watched her carefully, gauging her reaction.
"Because the hell I’m about to unleash will burn everything down, and I can't protect everyone from the flames. "
Raven stared at him, anger flaring hot in her chest. "That's your solution? Run away and let him take everything my family built?"
"That's my solution for keeping you and your uncle alive."
"Why do you care if I live or die?"
The question hung between them like smoke from a wildfire, dangerous and impossible to ignore. Jesse stepped closer, close enough that Raven could see the flecks of silver in his blue eyes, could smell the scent of soap and leather and something uniquely him.
"I don’t, but if I did, it would be because I’ve seen what my father does to good people,” he said, his voice raw with honesty that scraped against every defense she'd built.
Raven's breath caught. She should move back, should maintain the distance between them, should remember that Jesse Hollister was the enemy regardless of the conflict she saw in his eyes.
Instead, she edged forward. "And you think you aren’t good people?"
Jesse's jaw tightened. "What I think is irrelevant. I was born into blood, and went to war where I did things that a young girl shouldn’t know about. I came back for one reason, and one reason only.”
“What’s that reason?”
“Not your concern. If you take the money, you still have a chance at a life free of all this, the kind of life you deserve."
"Maybe I should decide what I deserve."
"Raven…" The way he said her name made her stomach flip.
She reached out and took his hand. His fingers were calloused and scarred across the knuckles, as they closed around hers.
For a moment, they just stood there, the last rays of sunlight painting everything gold and crimson, two people from opposite sides of an invisible war finding unexpected common ground.
"Tell me about the consulting work," Raven said finally, though she didn't let go of his hand. "Uncle Martin has been paid some serious money. What is he providing for your father?"
Jesse was quiet for so long that Raven thought he might refuse to answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was careful, measured.
"Access. Your land straddles the highway that runs between Fredericksburg and I-10. It’s an ideal position for moving certain kinds of product to the border without attracting attention."
"What kind of product?"
"The kind designed to kill. Moving north from Mexico."
Guns. Raven’s stomach rolled with recognition and disgust. Uncle Martin was giving safe passage to gun runners, probably under threat of violence to her or to himself. Every weapon that crossed their land would be used to destroy lives. And her family's ranch was the road that made it possible.
"How long has this been going on?"
"Six months, maybe more. My father has informants in the bank and approached your uncle after cattle prices fell and he got behind on the mortgage payments. I’m sure your uncle thought he could make a quick deal, pay off the debt, get out clean.
" Jesse's expression was grim. "But there is no getting out clean once you make a deal with the devil. "
Her gut clenched. Six months of Uncle Martin carrying this secret, this weight, while she'd been oblivious. Half a year of him lying awake at night knowing he'd invited a killer onto their land to save it, only to realize too late that predators don't leave once they've tasted blood.
"So your father just keeps using our land, paying Uncle Martin enough to keep him quiet, and eventually..."
"It’s no longer eventually. You heard him yesterday.
He’s already decided it's easier to own the land than rent it. It’s cleaner, with no witnesses or complications.
" Jesse paused and Raven felt his words hanging in the air between them.
"Every other ranch family in the county has either sold or disappeared.
You're all that's left standing in his way. "
"And Uncle Martin?"
Jesse's silence was answer enough.
Raven pulled her hand away, wrapping her arms around herself against a chill that had nothing to do with the evening air.
Her uncle refused to sell and he was going to die for it.
Their ranch was going to be stolen. Everything her family had built would be fed into Bo Hollister's machine of greed and violence.
Unless she helped Jesse stop him. She clung to Jesse’s words like a lifeline.
That thought should have terrified her. She was one young woman. What could she do against a criminal empire headed by a ruthless thug who made entire families vanish? Instead, something crystallized in her chest, something that felt dangerously like stubbornness mixed with her uncle's quiet steel.
The rational part of her brain whispered that this was suicide, that people like her didn't take down men like Bo Hollister and survive.
But she'd already lost her parents to circumstances beyond her control.
She'd be damned if she lost Uncle Martin and her home the same way, watching helplessly while fate took them from her.
"Why don’t you stop him?" she asked. "I can help. It has to be now or there’s no point."
"Don't." Jesse closed the distance between them, his hand rising near her shoulder without making contact.
"Don't you dare try to be a hero. You're what? Nineteen? You have no idea what you’re going up against. My father’s connections extend well outside Hill Country.
Your biggest concerns should be finishing college and starting your life, not taking on men who'd happily gut you. I’ll handle this in my own way in my own time. "
"A normal life ended for me the second your father put a bullseye on my family’s ranch."
"Raven, listen to me. I’m telling you how to survive this." Jesse's tone hardened. "The last girl who tried to take on my father was found swinging from the rafters in her apartment. I’d like to think you’re smarter than that. Don’t do anything to cross him without coming to me first."
"Why would I trust you? You're asking us to run away and abandon everything that’s ever mattered to us. You’re one of them.
" Even as she said it, Raven knew it wasn't true.
Jesse had stepped between her and his father.
He was here now, offering help and advice that could get him killed.
But trusting a Hollister felt like stepping off a cliff and hoping someone would catch her.
"Because I’m the only one who gives a damn whether you live or die. You’ll only make things worse if you interfere." Jesse's hands held firm. "If you start this fight, you’ll need someone who can drag you out when it goes wrong… and it will go wrong."
The offer hung in the air between them. Dangerous. Impossible. Maybe the only chance they all had.
"You'd really go against your own father?"
She watched his face for any flicker of hesitation, any sign this was another manipulation.
But all she saw was determination and she wondered if it was the same kind she felt clawing at her own ribs.
He had the look of someone who'd already chosen their side and was waiting to see if she'd be crazy enough to follow him.
"I have a plan, which doesn’t involve some silly kid who thinks she can play superhero.
The situation between your uncle and my father will only serve to advance the timeline.
" Jesse’s voice was flat and cold as he leaned in, his eyes like ice boring into hers.
"Tell me, Raven, do you have the nerve to partner with someone who already knows what it feels like to kill the enemy?
Do you trust the devil you think you know? "
Raven studied him, searching for any sign of deception or manipulation. All she saw was a man who'd just confirmed her worst fears. He planned to go to war with his father and she and her uncle were standing in the crossfire.
This could be the biggest mistake of her life. Jesse could be playing her, setting her up for his father the way a hunter baits a trap. But standing here in the dying light, watching the conflict cross his features, her instincts said otherwise. And right now, instinct was all she had.
"What did you have in mind?"
Jesse shook his head, glanced around the empty pond, and then leaned closer.
"Be at the old grain elevator on Route 87 tomorrow night. Same time." He didn’t ask. He commanded. "Make sure your phone is charged. I’m going to hand you a life preserver of sorts: all the proof you need to go to the Feds, NOT the sheriff, with what my father’s done."
Raven stared at him for a long moment, her mind whirling. "I don’t understand. Why would you give me proof? How does this help you?"
"It doesn’t, not really, but the evidence I’ll give you is the only card I have to play if this all goes to hell in a handbasket. If you can get it to the Feds, it might protect my mother and my brothers—there won’t be any place left for him to hide."
He turned away and then stopped to look at her. "And Raven?" His gaze was pure ice, his tone lethal. "If you cross me, I’ll make sure whatever comes for your family finds you first."