Chapter 20 #2
A dark and primal intent flickered in Stan’s eyes at her defiance. His fingers twitched, and Sienna recognized the prelude to violence she had learned to fear. But this time, the terror didn’t paralyze her. This time love, and the family she had found at Rawhide Ranch coursed through her veins.
“My place?” The words tasted like bitter medicine. “My place is wherever I choose to be. With someone who sees me as precious, not property.” She took another calculated step back. “Someone who would give anything to make me a mother, not take that dream away forever.”
Stan lunged forward, his control snapping. “You ungrateful—”
The sound of running footsteps approached from behind her. Before Stan could grab her, a familiar voice cut through the strained atmosphere.
“Get. The fuck. Away. From. Her.” Crone’s voice carried a darkness Sienna had never heard before.
Stan’s lips curved into a cruel smile as he sized up his opponent. “Well, if it isn’t the scarred-up cowboy himself.”
The air crackled with lethal tension as the two men faced each other. Crone’s strong frame seemed to fill the street as he moved between Sienna and Stan. “Stay back, love.” He moved closer to Stan. His usual grace transformed into that of a predator in a blink of an eye.
“Last warning.” Crone’s voice carried the promise of violence. “Walk away.”
Stan’s hand slipped into his jacket. “Or what, cowboy? You’ll brand me?” The blade that appeared in his hand gleamed wickedly in the summer sun. “She’s mine. I’m just taking back what belongs to me.”
Everything happened at once. Stan lunged, wildly slashing the knife. Crone moved with economic efficiency, deflecting the blade while driving his fist into Stan’s ribs. The fight was savage. There was no posturing, no hesitation. Both men knew only one would walk away.
Despite his gym-honed muscles, Stan couldn’t match Crone’s raw power. Each punch from Crone’s large fists landed with crushing force. But Stan fought dirty, the knife finding flesh more than once.
Sienna watched in horror as blood darkened Crone’s shirt. Screams and shouts echoed across the street as people ran to get out of the way. Through the chaos, she heard the welcome wail of approaching sirens.
Stan must have heard them too. Desperation flickered in his eyes as Crone landed another devastating blow. Suddenly, he disengaged, spinning toward Sienna with the knife raised.
“You’re my fucking whore and if I can’t have you—”
The echo of a gunshot down the street punched the breath from Sienna's lungs. Stan’s eyes went wide with surprise, the knife falling from his lifeless fingers as he crumpled to the pavement. Behind Sienna, Sheriff Garcia stood with his service weapon still raised, smoke curling from the barrel.
“Threat neutralized,” he spoke into his radio, but Sienna barely heard him as she ran to Crone.
Ignoring the blood seeping from his own wounds, he reached for her. His hands betrayed his fear as they gently cradled her face, checking every inch for injury. “Are you hurt, love?”
She shook her head. Concern hazed her eyes over as she traced the new wounds on his body. “You’re bleeding…”
“It’s just scratches.” His voice was hoarse, still carrying resonances of that deadly tone. Drawing her against his chest, he sheltered her from the sight of Stan’s lifeless body. “It’s over, love. He can’t hurt you ever again.”
Sheriff Mark Garcia approached, holstering his weapon.
“EMTs are on their way, Crone. Let them check those cuts.” His experienced gaze swept the scene as his deputies secured the area.
“Ms. Weathers, we’ll need your statement, but it can wait until tomorrow.
Multiple witnesses already confirmed he attacked with a deadly weapon. ”
Sienna nodded with her face pressed against Crone’s chest, unable to look at the growing pool of blood around Stan’s body.
The monster who had haunted her dreams lay dead on the peaceful street of Porter’s Corner.
She should feel relieved, triumphant even.
Instead, she felt hollow and drained, but Crone’s arms wrapped around her offered her the warmth and security she so desperately needed.
“Take me home,” she whispered. “Please, just take me home.”
Only after the EMTs had cleaned and bandaged his cuts did Sheriff Garcia allow them to leave. The drive home passed in a blur. Crone’s hand never left hers. His thumb continuously stroked gentle circles against her palm.
Inside his house, he wordlessly helped her undress. The late afternoon sun painted the mountains in shades of amber as they settled into the steaming water of the hot tub. Sienna felt safe cradled between his thighs with her back against his chest.
For a long time, there was only the sound of the bubbling water and her quiet sobs.
Crone held her close, his arms a fortress as years of terror and grief poured out of her.
He didn’t offer empty platitudes or try to hush her tears.
He simply held her, understanding that some demons needed to be washed away.
“I can’t believe it’s over,” she finally whispered. “After running and hiding, looking over my shoulder…” Her hands covered his where they rested on her stomach. “I keep thinking I’ll wake up and find this was all a dream.”
“It’s real, kitten.” His lips brushed her temple. “You’re free.”
“My daughter would have been two at the end of this year.” She’d never spoken of the baby before, but here, held safe in Crone’s arms, the words finally came. “I felt her moving that morning. She was so active, so alive. And then…” Her voice broke.
Crone’s arms tightened, and she felt wetness against her hair of his own tears falling silently. “Tell me about her,” he whispered.
“I named her Hope.” The confession was like releasing a long-held breath. “Because even though she never took a breath, through her death, she gave me the strength to finally leave him.”
The mountains witnessed her grief as the sun painted the sky in deepening shades of purple and gold. But for the first time, the darkness of memory didn’t swallow her whole. Here, in the arms of a man who loved every broken piece of her, the chains of Sienna’s past finally loosened and fell away.
She turned in his arms. Her fingers traced the scars on his chest, matching his damaged beauty to her own. “You gave me back my life, Crone. Piece by piece, you helped me find myself again.”
“No, love.” He cupped her face as he held her gaze with fierce tenderness. “You did that yourself. I just had the privilege of loving you while you did.”
The truth of it settled in her heart like a missing puzzle piece. She had done this… fought her way back from darkness, faced her demons, and discovered her strength. But his love had been the light guiding her home.
“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. “With everything I am, and everything I’ve become.”
His kiss was gentle, reverent, a promise sealed in the fading mountain light. “And I love you, Sienna Weathers. Until the last star falls from the sky.”