Chapter 7
7
ROXIE
R oxie leaned her head against the cool window of Gavin’s truck, watching the shadowy outlines of hills and fences roll past under the moonlight. The tightness in her chest refused to ease, no matter how many calming breaths she took.
“Almost there,” Gavin said, breaking the silence.
His voice was low, calm, but it didn’t do much to quiet the storm in her mind. She glanced at him, his hands steady on the wheel, his jaw tight with the same quiet resolve that had infuriated her all night.
“Where exactly is ‘there’?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“My ranch,” Gavin said simply, his eyes flicking to her before returning to the road. “Iron Valor. Safe, private, secure. I’ve let the team know we’re going to hole up there for a while.”
Roxie frowned. “I assume your friends all work there?”
“For the most part, they’re all former special ops guys just looking for a little peace. The actual team all work at Silver Spur Security, but anybody trying to assault my ranch will find themselves in a whole world of hurt.” He smiled, the faintest twitch of his lips betraying his amusement. “You’ll like them.”
“Doubtful,” she muttered, turning back to the window.
The iron gates swung open to reveal a hard-pack dirt road that seemed as sturdy as concrete beneath the tires as they pulled up to a sprawling ranch house surrounded by wide open fields, an enormous barn, a covered arena, and what looked to be a grouping of tiny houses, presumably for his ranch hands as well as a scattering of outbuildings. Lights glowed warmly from the windows, but the place still looked imposing in the darkness.
Gavin parked and climbed out, coming around to open her door before she could protest. His hand hovered near her back as she stepped down, her knees almost giving way as her boots hit the ground. He reached out to steady her.
“This is my home,” he said, gesturing toward the main house. “Come on.”
Roxie followed him reluctantly, her nerves prickling as they stepped inside. The warmth of the place hit her immediately—soft light, the faint scent of wood smoke, and the sound of low voices coming from a room just beyond the foyer.
“Gavin,” a deep voice called out.
A tall man with sharp features and piercing eyes stepped into view, his gaze sweeping over Roxie before landing on Gavin. He looked at her and shook his head.
“Reed, you remember Roxie. She tends bar at the club,” Gavin confirmed, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “Roxie, I think you’ve met Reed Malone, one of the other owners of the club and my partner in Silver Spur Security. Keely is his kid sister.”
“Reed,” Roxie said, offering a small nod.
Reed studied her before extending a hand. “Welcome to Iron Valor, Gavin’s home. He says someone’s got a target on your back. We’ll fix that.”
The confidence in his voice was reassuring, but it also unsettled her. These men spoke about danger like it was just another day at the office.
Gavin led her into what appeared to be an enormous dining room, where three other men lounged around a large table covered in maps, files, and coffee mugs. They all looked up as she entered, their casual postures betraying a sharp awareness that put her immediately on edge.
“I think everybody has at least met Roxie,” Gavin said.
The introductions came fast, their names blending together—Hawke, Jesse, Dawson. Each of them greeted her with a polite nod or a quick smile, but their eyes were assessing, as if cataloging every detail about her in seconds. They were the other owners of the club, worked at Silver Spur Security and were rumored to have served with Gavin and Reed in a highly-decorated SEAL team.
Roxie’s throat tightened. She felt small and out of place in this room full of trained operatives who clearly had no problem stepping into danger.
“You’re safe here,” Gavin said softly, leaning close enough for his voice to brush against her ear.
Her pulse skipped, but she forced herself to nod, her gaze darting around the room. “Thank you for your help.” It seemed a bit inadequate, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“No problem,” Jesse said with a wink. “It’s kind of our job and comes with the territory.”
“And the ego,” Dawson added with a grin, earning a laugh from the group.
Roxie managed a small smile, but her discomfort lingered.
“Roxie’s had enough for the night. I want to get her settled in the guest room.”
“No problem,” said Reed. “We have two units on patrol around the house and another two out in the surrounding area. They’ll switch off with two other teams randomly.”
“Thanks Reed. Thanks to all of you. I’ll be back in a bit.” Gavin guided her to a guest room at the far end of the house. It was simple but clean, with a soft bed and a window overlooking the moonlit pastures.
“This is your room,” he said, setting her bag on the dresser. “There’s an attached bath so you should be comfortable.”
She lingered near the door, her arms crossed tightly. “I don’t think I belong here.”
Gavin turned to face her, his expression softening. “You do. Whether you believe it or not.”
Her throat tightened, and she looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. “I feel like a burden.”
“You’re not,” Gavin said firmly, stepping closer. “You’re in trouble. You’re one of our people and Keely’s friend. That makes you one of us. That’s all this is. And we’re going to fix it.”
Roxie met his gaze, her chest tightening at the intensity in his eyes. For the first time in years, she felt a flicker of something she hadn’t dared to let herself feel—safe.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Gavin’s lips curved into a faint smile, and the energy in the room shifted, something warmer crackling between them.
“Take a shower, and get some rest,” he said, his voice low. “We’ll start figuring this out in the morning.”
Roxie nodded, watching as he turned and left the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him.
She turned and made her way to the bed where she stripped out of her clothes, wandering into the spa-like bath that was as big as the bedroom in her skanky apartment. Her hands trembled as she reached into the shower and turned on the water. She eyed the free-standing slipper tub, and thought if she was here long enough, she might indulge in a long soak. But tonight, she wanted a hot shower and to snuggle up in the big brass bed out in the bedroom.
For the first time in years, she wasn’t alone. And while it terrified her, it also gave her something she hadn’t had in a long time—hope.
GAVIN
Gavin leaned over the large wooden table in the dining room turned conference and war room in his home, his eyes scanning the documents spread out in front of him. A list of names, financial records, and old police reports created a chaotic collage of leads that needed untangling. His team moved around him with focused efficiency, each man taking on a piece of the puzzle.
“Jeremiah Albright owed a lot of money to the wrong people,” Reed said, sliding a stack of papers across the table. “Carter Dugan’s name keeps coming up. He’s bad news—loan shark, extortionist, and tied to three missing persons cases in the last decade.”
“Anyone ever nail him?” Gavin asked, flipping through the files.
“Nope,” Reed replied, leaning back in his chair. “Too slippery. But if Jeremiah owed him money, Dugan might have a motive to tie up loose ends.”
“That includes Roxie,” Gavin said grimly, his jaw tightening.
Hawke walked in, holding a tablet. “I dug into the lawyer handling Jeremiah’s estate—Alan Kessler. Looks clean on the surface, but I found discrepancies in the estate filings. Roxie should’ve gotten a payout from the sale of Jeremiah’s assets, but the money vanished. Kessler’s firm also has a history of ‘errors’ in cases involving wealthy families.”
“Convenient,” Gavin muttered, his mind already racing.
“Add in the in-laws,” Jesse said, tapping a pen against the whiteboard he was busy setting up. “William and Margaret Albright don’t strike me as the forgive-and-forget types. If they wanted Roxie out of the picture permanently, they’ve got the money and connections to make it happen.”
Gavin straightened, his broad shoulders stiff. “We’ve got three good suspects. Now we just need to figure out who’s pulling the strings—and stop them before they try again.”
Later that evening, Gavin found himself on the front porch, a cold beer in his hand as he stared out over the darkened fields. The night was quiet, save for the faint rustle of wind through the trees and the distant chirp of crickets.
The screen door creaked behind him, and he turned to see Roxie stepping out, wrapped in a robe that he kept in her room for guests. Her arms were folded over her chest against the chill. But the robe was at least three sizes too big and even with her cuddling in it, the damn thing revealed the most tantalizing glimpse of the pale flesh of her breasts.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
She shook her head, leaning against the porch railing. “Too much on my mind, but that shower was amazing.”
He grinned. “I made sure that every single showerhead in this place puts out good, hot water with sufficient velocity.” He tipped the bottle to his lips but kept his gaze on her. Even in the dim light, he could see the strain on her face—the weariness that came from years of carrying too much alone.
“Want a beer or something else?”
She shook her head. “You ever feel like you’re cursed?” Roxie asked suddenly, her voice soft.
Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Cursed how?”
“Like no matter what you do, life just keeps throwing punches,” she said, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “And you’re stuck taking them because there’s no other choice.”
He set the bottle down on the railing and turned to face her fully. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I’ve felt that.”
Roxie glanced up at him, her brows knitting in surprise. “Really? Mr. In-Control-All-The-Time?”
Gavin chuckled softly, the sound low and rough. “You think I was born this way? Life’s dealt me my fair share of shit, Roxie. I’ve just learned how to fight back.”
She studied him, her eyes searching his face. “How?”
“By not giving up,” he said simply. “And by letting people help when I couldn’t do it alone.”
Her gaze dropped to the ground, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not used to letting anyone help.”
“I figured,” he said, stepping closer. “But you’re not alone anymore, Roxie. You’ve got me. And you’ve got the team. We’re in this with you, whether you like it or not.”
Her lips twitched into a faint smile, and she looked up at him again. “You’re really damn stubborn, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told,” Gavin replied, his tone warm.
The charged space between them softened, replaced by a quiet understanding. Gavin couldn’t help but admire the resilience in her eyes, the way she stood there despite everything weighing her down.
“You’re stronger than you think,” he said quietly.
Roxie’s breath caught, and she looked away, the faintest blush coloring her cheeks. “You don’t even know me,” she murmured.
“I think I know you a lot better than you’d like to think,” Gavin said, the words carrying a weight he hadn’t intended.
The air between them crackled with something unspoken. Gavin’s chest tightened as he fought the urge to close the small distance between them, to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, to see if her lips were as soft as they looked.
But he held back, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Get some rest, Roxie. Tomorrow, we figure out who’s messing with your life.”
She nodded, her expression unreadable as she stepped back toward the door.
As she disappeared inside, Gavin stayed on the porch, her presence lingering like a ghost. He’d made a career out of protecting people, but this was different.
This was personal.