Chapter 14
chapter fourteen
Morgan
Something's wrong.
The feeling hits me before I register the subtle shift in posture from the men around me. One moment I'm checking Charlie's room, watching her sleep peacefully despite the chaos that's torn through our lives. The next, I'm aware of the heavy silence that's fallen over the cabin.
I step into the main room and find my father standing by the front window, his hand hovering near his waistband where I know his weapon is concealed.
Carter has moved from his position on the porch to the kitchen doorway, his massive frame suddenly taut with tension.
Even Kane, who's been scanning the perimeter with methodical calm, has shifted to the back door, his hand resting casually at his side where I've seen him keep a knife.
My mother notices it too. I see her eyes dart between the men, her lips pressing together in that thin line she gets when she's frightened but trying not to show it.
"What's happening?" I whisper, moving closer to my father.
He doesn't look at me. His gaze remains fixed on something beyond the window. "Not sure yet."
Sydney appears beside me, her weathered face grim. She's Carter's mother and they've been close friends of the club with her husband Kane.
Her presence should be reassuring, but the concern etched on her expression makes my stomach drop.
"There's movement near the tree line," she says quietly, nodding toward the east. "Your father saw it."
I glance at my mother, who's moved to sit on the arm of the couch, her hand pressed against her mouth. She's trying not to panic for me, for Charlie, for all of us.
"Morgan, go check on Charlie," my father says, his voice low and controlled. "Now."
I don't argue. I move quickly down the short hallway, my heart hammering against my ribs. When I reach Charlie's room, I find her still sleeping, her small body curled protectively around Princess Sparklehoof.
I sink onto the edge of the bed, torn between staying with her and returning to the main room. My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Trenton.
Harris might be near the cabin. Stay inside. Don't come out, no matter what.
My fingers tremble as I type my response: Charlie's sleeping. We're secure. Be careful.
Three dots appear, then his reply: We're coming back. ETA 20 minutes.
I set the phone on the nightstand, resisting the urge to wake Charlie. If Evan is out there, she's safer here, quiet and still. The darkness feels like it's pressing in on us, the cabin suddenly too small, too isolated.
From the main room, I hear the low murmur of voices, my father and Kane strategizing in hushed tones. Carter moves past the bedroom door, a gun glinting in his hand.
"Morgan?" Sydney appears in the doorway, her eyes soft with concern. "Everything okay in here?"
"Charlie's still asleep." I brush a strand of hair from her face. "Any news?"
Sydney shakes her head. "Your father's calling in more club members. They'll secure the perimeter."
The word "perimeter" sounds so military, so foreign to this peaceful mountain setting. I think of Evan out there in the darkness, watching us, planning his next move. The deer head on our porch flashes in my mind next, that bloody warning.
"What if he tries to come in?" I whisper.
Sydney settles beside me on the bed, her hand finding mine. "Then he'll find out what it means to threaten the Devil Souls' family."
Despite the fear coiling in my stomach, I find strength in her words, in the fierce protection of these people who've become our shield. I think of Trenton and Matthew racing back through the night, their truck eating up the miles between us.
"Morgan?" My mother enters the room, her face pale but composed. "Your father wants us all in the main room. He thinks it's safer if we stay together."
I nod, carefully extracting myself from beside Charlie. "Will you stay with her? Just for a minute?"
My mother takes my place on the bed, her hand automatically finding Charlie's small back in a soothing motion. Sydney and I move to the main room where the atmosphere has shifted to one that's tense.
My father has opened the weapons cabinet by the fireplace I hadn't even noticed was there. He hands Kane a shotgun, keeping another for himself. Kane accepts it, checking the chamber with practiced efficiency.
"He's out there," my father says simply when he sees me. "We caught movement near the creek. Whoever it is knows the terrain well."
"Evan was a hunter," I recall, remembering what we'd learned about him during our investigation. "The police files mentioned it."
My father's expression darkens. "Then he knows exactly what he's doing."
Carter moves to the back window, peering through a slim gap in the curtains. "No sign now. But he's there. I can feel it."
The feeling of being watched crawls up my spine. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the cabin.
"Trenton and Matthew are twenty minutes out," I tell them. "They found evidence at the motel that Evan knew about the cabin before we even left."
My father exchanges a look with Kane. "He set this up from the beginning."
"He wanted us all in one place," I realize with growing horror. "The attack on the house was just to get us to move here."
Sydney moves to stand beside me, her presence steadying. "Then he's made a mistake. He's brought the fight to people who know how to finish it."
From Charlie's room, I hear a small sound, a whimper that grows into frightened words. "Ms. Morgan? Where are you?"
I move instantly, returning to her side as her eyes flutter open, filled with confusion and fear.
"I'm right here, sweetheart." I gather her into my arms, her small body trembling against mine. "Everything's okay."
But even as I whisper reassurances, I hear the front door open and close, noting it's someone going outside to check the perimeter. The cabin suddenly feels like both a sanctuary and a trap, our refuge transformed into a battlefield.
My phone buzzes again. Trenton. We're 10 minutes out. Stay down. Stay inside.
I hold Charlie closer, her heartbeat rapid against my chest.
I count the minutes, each one stretching like an eternity as I hold Charlie against my chest. Her small body is tense, her breathing shallow. Outside, I hear movement, soft footsteps, whispered commands.
"Morgan," my mother says from beside me, "they're coming."
I hear it then, the distant rumble of an engine growing louder. Not just one vehicle, but several. The sound grows until headlights sweep across the front window, illuminating the cabin's interior for a brief moment.
"They're here," I whisper to Charlie, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
The front door opens and Trenton bursts in, his eyes finding mine instantly across the room. Behind him, Matthew moves with purpose, his weapon drawn but held low. Several other club members follow, men I recognize from gatherings at the clubhouse.
"Status?" Trenton asks my father, though his eyes never leave me.
"Movement near the creek," my father answers. "He knows the terrain."
Matthew moves to the window, peering out. "He'll use the ridgeline. That's the approach he'd take if he's watching."
As if to confirm his words, my phone buzzes with a text from Greyson. Perimeter sweep shows tracks near east ridge. Moving to intercept.
I show Trenton the message. His jaw tightens, a muscle jumping in his cheek.
"We need to move," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Now."
Before I can respond, a sound from outside makes everyone freeze. A branch snapping, then another. Footsteps. Moving fast.
"He's running," Matthew says, already heading for the door. "He knows we're here."
Trenton grabs my arm, his grip firm but gentle. "Stay with your parents. Carter, Kane, secure the cabin."
"Trenton," I start, fear clutching at my chest.
"We've got him," he promises, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. "This ends tonight."
With that, he's gone, following Matthew into the darkness. I watch through the window as they disappear into the tree line, their forms swallowed by shadows within seconds.
"Come away from there," my mother says, pulling me from the window. "You don't need to see this."
But I can't move. My feet feel rooted to the floor as I strain to see what's happening beyond the cabin's walls. Charlie clings to my neck, her small arms tight around me.
Matthew
The ridge is dark and the ground is soft under my boots. Pine needles and wet earth, the kind that swallows sound if you know how to place your feet. I've known how since I was fourteen and my father took me on my first hunt. Different prey back then, same principle.
Trenton moves to my right, three meters out, his shape barely visible against the trees.
We've done this before in worse places, with worse stakes, but the feeling in my chest is new.
This isn't a mission. This isn't a contract.
This is my family's safety and a man who put a severed deer head on my porch.
I scan the slope ahead. The quarry sits below us, a dark scar in the mountain's face, its walls catching what little moonlight filters through the clouds.
If Harris came this way, he'd have to cross that open stretch between the tree line and the quarry's edge.
There's no cover there. If he's smart, he'll be below us already, using the quarry's walls to mask his movement.
The three men we pulled out of our kitchen said he was jumpy. Said he drank three beers fast and kept looking over his shoulder. That's not the behavior of someone operating from a position of confidence, that's the behavior of someone running out of options and running out of time.
Good.
I signal Trenton with two fingers to my left ear. He nods and adjusts his route, angling to cut the quarry's north approach while I take the south. We split without a word. We've never needed words for this.