Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Lincoln
The five of us move through the trees, each step deliberate, spaced, and controlled. Lawson signals ahead of me. Beau and Jas split left on cue. I keep Abigail close on my right, one hand hovering near her lower back without actually touching her.
I just need to know I can reach her if I have to.
The cabin comes into view through the trees—a small, weather-beaten building with one dim light burning inside. The generator next to it hums unevenly, and two vehicles are parked in the clearing.
A black Cadillac Escalade and an old gray Chevy Silverado.
Lawson drops into a crouch behind a fallen pine, and I guide Abigail down with me.
“You see that cluster of trees?” I murmur, pointing about twenty yards back and slightly elevated along a shallow ridge. Fallen branches form a natural blind, and from there, she’d have a clear view of the front of the cabin and the vehicles, but she’d be concealed from anyone in the clearing.
She follows my gaze and nods.
“They won’t see you unless they’re looking for you,” I tell her.
“And if they do come looking for me?” she asks quietly.
Reaching to my back, I pull out an extra handgun I have tucked into the waistband of my pants.
I quickly chamber a round and hand it to her.
She looks at me with panic in her eyes, so I gently grab her hand and wrap it around the barrel of the gun.
“They won’t have time to find you, but if anything happens all you have to do is point and shoot. Okay?”
Her eyes flick to my mouth and she nods. She knows what that means.
I take her other hand and move quickly, staying low, guiding her into the space between the trees. Pulling a branch down slightly, I try to obscure the opening without blocking her sight line.
I need her to be able to see us, even if we can’t see her, just in case we need to make a fast getaway.
Her fingers hook into the front of my jacket before I step away. Her hazel eyes search mine, and when she opens her mouth to speak, I stop her by planting one more kiss on her soft lips before whispering. “Be right back.”
“You promise?”
The corner of my lips lift. “I promise, Sweetheart.”
The cabin door creaking open has my head snapping in its direction.
Caleb steps out first. He looks thinner than I remember. Jittery. Eyes scanning too fast as Grayson steps out behind him.
But, unlike his younger brother, he looks altogether calm. Too collected. Too detached.
Victor Hale follows last. His broad shoulders, thick arms, and built frame fill the doorway. His movements are smooth and precise. There’s no nervous energy in him. Just a readiness that comes from years of experience.
Lawson slowly stands. “So, this is where you’ve been hiding,” he calls evenly.
I watch as Caleb startles first, hand diving for his waistband, as I move away from Abigail and emerge, gun already drawn, but Beau beats me to it.
“Don’t,” he warns, his gun pointed right at Caleb. I wasn’t watching, but somehow he made it closer to the cabin faster than any of us.
Caleb freezes.
Grayson doesn’t move.
And Victor’s gaze sweeps the tree line once—likely calculating and planning exit paths.
He moves fast.
Too fast.
He shoves Caleb sideways and draws all in the same motion.
The first shot cracks through the clearing. Metal screams as bullets punch into the truck door.
I move right as Lawson fires.
Beau and Jasper push forward from the left.
Victor uses the vehicle as a shield before climbing in and starting it. The movement is smooth and practiced like he’s done it a hundred times before. There’s not an ounce of panic in his eyes as he fires off more rounds through the cracked door in our direction.
Meanwhile, Caleb scrambles through the snow, slipping while trying to reach the Escalade.
Grayson ignores his struggling brother and backs toward the Escalade with his gun seemingly pointed at nothing as he waves it around like an idiot.
Caleb slips again in the snow, this time face-planting. “Grayson!” he shouts, but his brother ignores him as he opens the passenger side door of the Escalade.
As Grayson slams his door closed, Victor throws his open wider and plants his boots back on the ground, likely to grab a still struggling Caleb.
Victor aims his gun in my direction, and Jasper takes that as his chance.
He charges, not letting off, even when Victor hears him coming and spins.
Jas slams into him like a freight train, and the gun flies from Victor’s hand, skidding across the ice.
The two of them crash against the side of the SUV so hard that I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter the window. Grayson moves to open the passenger door, but Beau is quick to fire off a round into the metal, preventing him from doing so.
Victor recovers first, and he drives a fist into Jasper’s ribs—a deep, brutal shot that forces the air from Jasper’s lungs.
Jas grits his teeth and swings back, connecting hard with Victor’s jaw, who barely stumbles.
He counters with a knee to Jasper’s thigh, then an elbow across his temple.
Jasper staggers but doesn’t fall.
He’s been beneath the heel of a bull. He can take worse.
Caleb manages to gather his bearings enough to sit back on his ass, grab his gun, and start firing off in all directions.
One of the shots cracks past my ear, and then bark explodes from a tree trunk just inches from where Abigail is hidden.
Wood splinters over her shoulder while snow drops from the branches above her in a white cascade.
She screams, and the sound cuts through the clearing sharper than any gunshot ever could.
A loud roar sounds from Jasper as he grabs Victor by the collar and slams him into the hood hard enough that the metal dents and snow shakes loose from the roof.
Victor snarls and headbutts Jasper square in the face.
Blood instantly pours from Jasper’s nose.
Lawson fires toward the ground near them—likely not able to get a clean shot—and forces them to separate.
But Victor uses the split second to his advantage by reaching out, grabbing Jasper by the throat, and shoving him hard against the SUV, before his forearm presses into Jasper’s windpipe.
“Fuck!” Beau shouts as one of Caleb’s rogue shots shoots up snow near his feet.
Meanwhile, Jasper’s boots scrape against the snow as he fights for leverage. Victor punches him again. First, the ribs. Then the stomach. Followed by a quick strike to his jaw.
Jasper lands one solid hit back, splitting Victor’s lip.
But Victor smiles through the blood.
Realizing his brother isn’t going to help him, Caleb scrambles through the snow and bolts.
Not toward the SUV.
Toward the trees.
Toward Abigail.
Everything narrows as Beau, Lawson, and I take off, knowing Jasper will do what he can to handle himself. That he would want us to go to her.
I manage to intercept Caleb before he reaches the tree line. Hitting him low and hard, I tackle him into the snow. We roll once, twice. All the while, he claws at my face, my jacket, at anything he can reach. He’s wild and untrained, and it shows.
“Caleb,” I seethe. “Just. Stop.”
He reaches for something at his ankle—
A knife.
I manage to trap his wrist and slam it against the frozen ground until the blade falls from his fingers.
Behind me, Grayson yells, “Victor! Get in the fucking car!”
He doesn’t plead for him to get his brother. He doesn’t beg Victor to help Caleb. He just yells at him to move.
Victor releases Jasper and backs toward the sedan. Jasper tries to follow but stumbles, one hand bracing against the SUV. Before Victor climbs all the way inside, he looks back toward where I have Caleb pinned to the ground.
“Leave him!” Grayson snaps, and Victor doesn’t hesitate.
Victor slams the door, and Caleb’s head whips toward the sound. “Gray!” he calls.
The sedan fishtails as Victor guns it, and Jasper falls to the ground as it tears down the logging road without looking back.
Caleb goes still beneath me. He stares at the empty road like he’s waiting for the Escalade to turn around.
“He’ll come back,” Caleb whispers.
No one answers.
“He always comes back.”
The lie hangs in the air between us.
“He just left you,” I say evenly.
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.
It’s subtle.
His shoulders shift.
His eyes flick toward Lawson.
He must have grabbed the knife when we turned to look at Abigail, and he lunges.
There’s no shout of warning. No dramatic pause.
Lawson barely has time to register the movement before Caleb drives forward, blade aimed straight for his ribs.
I don’t think.
I don’t weigh options.
I don’t hesitate.
My gun is up before my brain realizes the severity of what I’m about to do.
I pull the trigger, and the sound of the gun firing splits the air.
Caleb’s body jerks mid-step before the knife falls from his hand, disappearing into the snow as he collapses at my brother’s feet.
Silence follows.
Snow continues to fall.
I lower my gun.
And for a moment, no one moves.
We just stand there and look at yet another lifeless Coates brother.
Then, Lawson exhales slowly.
Beau turns toward the tree line.
And Jasper collapses on his back.
Abigail slows at the edge of the trees, her gaze locking on Caleb’s lifeless body sprawled in the snow. The gun hangs at her side, trembling in her grip.
But she… she’s still alive. And that’s all that matters.
I move toward her immediately, with Lawson and Beau right on my heels.
When I reach her, she doesn’t speak.
The moment I slowly remove the gun from her hands and tuck it back into the waistband of my pants, she just wraps her arms around me, and I hold her like I didn’t just take a life in front of her.
Grayson is gone.
Victor Hale is gone.
And we have no idea where Keller is.
None of this is over.
Not even close.