Chapter 84
MASON
We work fast.
Lily stands near the loading bay door, watching us work. She's steady. Composed. I tucked the gun in my waistband, but I can still see the ghost of it in her hand—the way she held it, the way she fired without hesitation.
She got her closure, but closure doesn't mean safe.
I want her back in my bed, wrapped around me where I can feel her heartbeat under my hand and know nobody’s ever taking her away from me again.
If she can stand my touch after today. If she flinches from me… I shake my head—I don’t know if I’d be able to survive that.
"Two minutes," Jake says, his voice clipped and professional. He's moving toward the exit, double-checking the timer on the primary charge.
“Perimeter's clear.” Luke appears at my shoulder, his crazy grin in place. He lives for this shit. “No movement on the access road."
I nod. "Let's move."
We exit through the loading bay—Jake first, then Lily, then me with Luke covering our six. The afternoon air is cold and sharp after the stale warehouse interior. Our vehicle is parked fifty yards out, positioned for rapid extraction.
That's when I see it—the pickup parked near Luke’s truck.
It’s a matte black F-250 with Montana plates and blacked-out rims. There’s a man leaning against the driver's side door, arms crossed casually over his chest.
Cole Turner.
He's alone.
No visible backup, no weapons drawn. He’s just standing there like he's been waiting for us to finish, that snake smile curling his lips.
My hand goes to my sidearm instinctively. Jake and Luke flank out, creating a defensive perimeter.
Lily goes still beside me, her entire body tensing. I squeeze her hand to let her know I’ve got her.
Turner doesn't move. He just smiles. "Gentlemen. And Dr. Carter. I hope I'm not interrupting."
I don't respond. My tactical mind is running threat assessments: distance to cover, angles of fire, extraction routes if this goes hot. But something about Turner's posture—the complete lack of urgency, the casual lean against his truck—tells me he's not here to fight.
He's here to prove a point.
"I wanted to thank you," Turner continues, pushing off the truck and taking a single step forward, like we’re chatting about football. "Patrick Kelly was becoming a liability. Sloppy. Unreliable. Going rogue. You did me a favor taking care of him."
Lily gasps beside me. I feel her start to move forward, but I shift slightly, blocking her path without taking my eyes off Turner.
Jake stands off in front of Turner. "You knew we'd come for her.”
Turner's smile widens. "Of course I knew.
Kelly grabbed her on his own initiative.
He thought he could clean up his mistake before I found out she existed.
He should have known I've been watching Dr. Carter since the moment she arrived in Iron Ridge.
" His gaze shifts to Lily, and there's something almost fond in his expression.
I want to take my gun out and shoot him in the face for looking at her like that.
"You're very good, Lily,” he continues. “Tactical and precise. But you left a trail, and I've always been better at reading trails than most people realize." He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out.
It’s a black cap. I frown at it, not understanding why it’s significant.
Lily gasps. “My cap. I lost it Monday night when I snuck onto the Turner Ranch.”
“If it didn’t have your pretty gold hair on it, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it.” Turner slips it back in his pocket. “I’ll just keep that as a souvenir for now.”
"You let all this happen." Jake stares at him unrelentingly, his voice tight with barely controlled fury. "You let Kelly take her so we'd kill him for you."
Turner smiles. "I told you you’d end up working for me. And, see, you already are.”
Fuck—we played exactly into his hands.
Turner takes another step forward, and this time I raise my weapon. He stops immediately, hands lifting in a gesture of mock surrender.
"Easy, Mr. Rivera. I'm not here to escalate. I'm here to establish understanding." His gaze sweeps over all of us—Jake, Luke, Lily, me. "You have something I want, and I have something you want to protect."
"We don't have anything you want," Luke growls.
Turner's smile turns sharp. "Don't you? Dr. Carter has intimate knowledge of my network. She's a walking liability to my business." He pauses, letting that sink in. "But she's also of sentimental value. A loose end I prefer to tie up personally."
My blood runs cold.
"And then there's the ranch," Turner continues, his tone conversational.
"Blackthorn is quite the operation. Jake, you've done impressive work rebuilding after that unfortunate fire at Circle H.
And congratulations, by the way—Emma's pregnancy is wonderful news.
A baby. New life. Something worth protecting at all costs. "
Jake goes rigid beside me. The threat is implicit, devastating. I can practically hear him wondering how Turner found out.
"Touch one hair on Emma’s head and you won’t live to see another sunrise," Jake promises.
"I don't need to go near her," Turner replies smoothly. "That's the beauty of leverage, Mr. Callahan. I don't have to do anything. You just have to know that I could. That I have the reach. That I'm always watching."
He shifts his attention back to me, and I see the calculation in his eyes—the cold assessment of a predator who's already won.
"You're good, Mr. Rivera. Better than most. But you're not better than me, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner we can all move forward with minimal collateral damage."
The warehouse timer is counting down. We have ninety seconds before the charges blow.
Turner knows it. He glances back at the building, then at us, completely unbothered.
"I'll leave you to your cleanup." He heads back toward his truck. "But understand this: Patrick Kelly was disposable. A pawn. I have dozens more just like him. And every single one of them knows where to find the people you care about."
He opens the truck door, pauses, and looks directly at Lily. "Welcome back to the game, Lily. I’m looking forward to this second chance with you."