Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
FORD
When we finally got back to Heartstone Manor, Finn was driving slower than I think he had since he was a fifteen-year-old with a learner’s permit.
From the adrenaline crash or general fear, I couldn’t tell.
I didn’t think I was in shock, but I knew I was pissed.
Pissed that someone had come at me and endangered all of them.
Pissed that I was still paying for something I didn’t do.
And absolutely furious that Paige had been caught in the crossfire.
She was all I’d been able to think about all day.
That kiss. I hadn’t planned it. I’d been moving on autopilot: lights were out, check the breakers in the hall closet.
The door had opened, startling me, and I’d pulled her into the dark without thinking.
Then she was in my arms, everything about her soft and warm and so sweet.
All my willpower deserted me, and I kissed her.
A better man would regret it—grabbing her, kissing her without asking.
The conscience I’d developed in the last decade told me I owed her an apology, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
Kissing Paige was the best decision I’d made in years, and I wanted to do it again.
As soon as possible. When she’d walked into the taproom, I’d thought I was dreaming for a second.
She’d been haunting me all day, and there she was, in the flesh, sitting at the bar.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d flirted with a woman.
Not as easily as I did with Paige. The way she smiled, the flush on her cheeks when she was embarrassed, went straight to my head.
For a few minutes, I’d thought that maybe…
And then she was facedown on the pavement under Finn’s Jeep, hoping she didn’t get shot.
I wanted to kiss her, to laugh with her, and instead I almost got her killed.
Finn slowed to a stop in front of the Manor, putting his Jeep in park with deliberate effort.
All of us moved slowly as we got out, bodies aching from hitting the pavement.
Griffen swung open the heavy door before I could reach for the handle, his sharp eyes scanning us, one by one.
I could tell he’d settled into his professional badass mode, checking us for signs of shock.
“My office,” he barked, turning and leading us down the hall. He didn’t say another word until we were inside.
Hawk was already there, waiting for us. West, who had been enjoying a rare day off with Avery, followed us in, closing Griffen’s office door behind us.
“Everybody okay?” Griffen asked.
“We’re fine,” Finn said quickly, sliding a wary glance my way. I didn’t blame him. It wasn’t the first time I’d let my little brother get hurt. It was going to be the last.
“We’re fine,” Paige echoed, her eyes on me, less wary and more concerned—as if I needed another reminder that I had no business anywhere near her.
The scrapes on her forearms were proof enough.
Paige McKenna had never rolled under a Jeep in a parking lot for safety before.
The memory of her terrified eyes burned deep inside me.
“We were lucky,” I said quietly, trying not to think about Paige and Finn wedged behind the tires as I did everything I could to stay alive and keep the attacker off them.
“Ford took the brunt of it,” Finn said.
“I can see that,” Griffen agreed.
“I should leave Sawyers Bend,” I said. It was the only thing that made sense.
I had brought this into my family’s life.
Finn and Paige could have been killed. And what about the last time the guy had come after me?
He’d come at us with a knife, leaving Avery in the hospital.
“This is the second time we got lucky,” I said.
“At this point, we’re pushing it. If I leave—”
“Finn, Paige, could you excuse us?” Griffen interrupted.
Finn looked from Griffen to me and nodded.
On his way out, he closed his hand over my upper arm, giving me a quick shake.
I forced myself to meet his eyes, expecting accusation.
Instead, I saw only pity. Better, but it still made my gut twist. I didn’t want to be pitied, but this was my life.
I’d gotten myself here, and now I had to figure out how to get us all out.
“Wasn’t your fault, man,” Finn said with another shake before he let go and walked out, Paige trailing after him in silence.
The door shut behind her, and Griffen spoke into the quiet. “You’re not leaving Sawyers Bend.”
“Whoever he is, this guy is after me. If I go, he follows. The rest of you will be safe.” I crossed my arms over my chest, resolved.
“First of all,” Hawk cut in, “you don’t know that leaving will make anyone any safer.”
“Cole said—” I began, but Hawk cut me off with a quick shake of his head.
“You can’t believe a fucking thing Cole Haywood says. He sent this guy after you—that, I buy. But the idea that he’s going to leave the Sawyers alone because you’re out of the picture?” Hawk shook his head again. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Griffen doing the same.
“This guy,” West said dryly, “is a shit assassin. I hate that he got a knife on Ford and Avery back in October, but that was mostly luck.”
“You’re sure it’s the same guy?” Griffen cut in.
“Yes,” I answered. “No question. Same height, same build.” I shrugged, not sure how to articulate what my gut told me. “He moved the same.”
West continued. “I’m sorry he got a blade on you two, and I’m sorry he roughed you up today. But his job was to kill you, and he struck out twice. I don’t know where Haywood found him, but he’s not exactly top-notch.”
“Agreed,” Hawk said. “Trap?”
West nodded. “If it was anyone else, I’d say I didn’t want to endanger a civilian. But I’m assuming setting a trap would be preferable to being locked in the attic until we catch this guy.”
“Or taking off and abandoning your family,” Griffen added.
“A trap.” The idea bloomed in my mind. There were few people I trusted to keep me alive more than Hawk, my brother, and West—though all of them had reasons I wasn’t their favorite person.
But they were some of the best men I knew, and they wouldn’t let personal feelings get in the way of keeping me safe.
I’d risk myself in a second if it meant no one else would get hurt. I was sick to death of being the reason other people got hurt.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked West.
“I’m reluctant to expose the brewery,” he said, considering.
“But he jumped you in the employee parking lot, away from customers. As stupid as he seems to be, I doubt he’ll make a run at you through the taproom.
Too many people. I think he’ll try again.
We’ll put you on closings. You appear to go in and out by yourself, parking in the dark lot. He’ll try again.”
“My guess is he’s local,” Hawk added, “for a few reasons. The main one being his skill set. Haywood hired him out of opportunity. If he was coming in from out of town, it’s unlikely he would’ve waited so long between attempts—”
“Or, frankly, been this sloppy,” West finished.
“I agree,” Griffen said with a nod.
I didn’t have their expertise. I’d take their word for it. I wondered how often I’d passed him in the street, how many other times he’d thought about coming at me and hadn’t. “So, what?” I asked. “We put the word out that I’m working nights? Closing up alone?”
“Exactly. Locally, folks are still interested in Ford Sawyer serving beer,” West said. “Word will spread.”
I still wasn’t comfortable with the attention, but I’d deal with the stares if it would help us catch Cole’s hired killer.
“You think Avery will be okay with that?” I asked. “She generally keeps me off nights for that reason.”
West raised an eyebrow in challenge. “She keeps you off nights for your sake, not hers. If you were working nights, she’d sell more beer, but she doesn’t want her brother to be a circus sideshow, so she gives you afternoons.
Plus, Dave likes the tips when he closes, but we could talk them into swapping. ”
“I don’t think it would take more than a week, maybe two, before he makes another run at you,” Griffen added.
“Do you have the manpower to set something up like that?” I asked.
West shook his head. “No. Not on our own.” He looked to Hawk. “Considering the circumstances, I’d be open to a joint task force if you can spare some of your team.”
“We’ll make it work,” Hawk said.
“And in the meantime,” I interrupted, “I want you to teach me how to defend myself. I don’t know why Cole hired someone who couldn’t get the job done.
But if I was dealing with anyone more competent than this guy, I’d be toast.” I let out a frustrated breath.
“I managed to keep him busy and away from Finn and Paige, but I’ve spent most of my life behind a desk.
I’m in crap shape after the last year. I can throw a punch, and I can still shoot a gun, but that doesn’t mean I know what I’m doing.
I know you can’t teach me everything in a few days, but there’s got to be something.
” I exhaled again, my eyes locked on my feet.
Unable to look at them, I said, “I couldn’t keep them safe. ”
“You did,” West cut in. “You got a little beat-up in the process, but Finn and Paige barely had a scratch on them.”
I wanted to feel that was true, but all I could remember were their shouts, Paige’s frightened eyes, and the gunshot that had gone wild. Only sheer luck had kept the bullet from burying itself in Paige or Finn.
“We can teach you,” Griffen said, sharing a look with Hawk. “Enough to give you an edge. What happened to that nine millimeter you used to have?”
I looked to West. “I don’t know. West’s people confiscated it along with the gun that shot Prentice. I don’t know where it ended up. For all I know, Haywood has it.”
“I’ll look into it,” West said.
Griffen nodded. “We should get you time on the range. If you know what to do with it, you should be carrying it.”