Chapter 19 #2
“Exactly what a coward would do,” Naomi said with disgust. “Hurt something vulnerable instead of facing you directly.”
Anson’s jaw tightened. “If Whitaker’s on the property—”
“He’s not. My system would have flagged any unauthorized entry.”
“Maybe he was here before the system was fully operational,” Naomi suggested. “What if he followed Maggie from the beginning? Watched her arrive, then slipped onto the property before you finished those new motion sensors on the south ridge?”
Ghost’s expression darkened. “Possible.”
Had Landry been watching them all this time? Hiding in the trees, observing Maggie’s movements, waiting for the right moment?
“But he’s not here,” Ghost said with absolute certainty. “I’ve already tracked his credit cards, and the last transaction was at a gas station outside Lincoln, Nebraska, three days ago. Moving west. He couldn’t have hurt the cat.”
The blood drained from Maggie’s face, leaving her looking sickly. “Nebraska?” She pressed her palms against her eyes. “He’s coming here. He found me.”
“We don’t know that for certain,” Naomi moved to sit beside her. “But we’re going to operate on that assumption and take precautions. I’m going to walk you through some safety protocols. Things you can do to minimize risk.”
As Naomi outlined security measures, Ghost jerked his head toward the door in a silent summons. Anson followed him outside, where the cold night air bit through his flannel shirt. The moon hung low over the mountains, casting everything in silver and shadow.
Ghost positioned himself with his back to the cabin, voice pitched low.
“I can set up motion detectors on the gates and access road. Tag everyone’s cars, so we always know who is coming and going.
Cameras on her cabin. Notification system that pings everyone if there’s unusual activity.
But if this guy’s as determined as she says—”
“I need to know the second he crosses into Montana.” Anson kept his voice controlled, but something must have shown in his face, because Ghost’s eyes narrowed.
“What’s your plan if he shows?”
“Keep him away from her. Whatever that takes.”
Ghost studied him for a long moment. “I want to be clear on what you’re asking. You want security, or you want something else?”
“I want no one within a hundred yards of her without me knowing about it. And if Landry shows up here, I want the opportunity to handle it myself.”
“I can set up the alerts, loop Jax in for close protection if needed. But I’m warning you now—don’t do something that lands you back in a cell. Maggie needs you here, not locked up.”
“This isn’t about revenge. It’s about making sure she’s safe.”
Ghost held his gaze for a beat. “Yeah, well, think with your head, not your heart. Or whatever other part of you is currently driving the bus.”
He bristled. “I’m not—”
“You are.” Ghost cut him off with a raised hand.
“I know because I was in the same position not that long ago. When Naomi was taken…” He exhaled hard.
“I wanted to lay waste to everything and everyone in my way.” His eyes, usually cold and calculating, softened with remembered fear.
“But rage clouds judgment. Makes you sloppy. Gets you killed. Or worse—gets the person you’re trying to protect killed. ”
Fuck. He wanted to argue, but the man was right. He’d been there, done it, nearly lost everything because of it.
“I’ll set up the alerts,” Ghost continued. “But you need to promise me something.”
“What?”
“When—not if, when—this guy shows up, you call for backup before you do anything. Walker. Boone. Me. Jax. Any of us. Don’t try to handle it alone.”
He hesitated, the promise sticking in his throat.
“Sutter,” Ghost said, his voice dropping lower, “she needs you whole and free.”
“Look at you being the voice of reason.”
“I’m always the voice of reason. You idiots just never listen.”
Anson almost smiled at that, a grudging acknowledgment of how far Ghost had come since his early days at Valor Ridge, when he’d been more shadow than man. “All right. I’ll call for backup. But I’m not standing down if he threatens her.”
“Fair enough.” Ghost’s gaze shifted past his shoulder as the Hub’s door opened. Maggie stepped out, Naomi behind her.
Anson instantly moved to her side and set a steadying hand on her lower back. “You good?” She still looked too pale, too shaky.
She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself against the chill. “Naomi’s going to help me file for an emergency protection order tomorrow. And Ghost has some... creative ideas for tracking Landry’s movements.”
“Already on it,” Ghost confirmed. “No one gets near her without us knowing. And we will find out who hurt Princess.”
Stars punched through the black Montana sky as they left the Hub, cold air crystallizing their breath into white clouds.
Anson matched his stride to Maggie’s, staying close without crowding her. Close enough to catch her if she stumbled on the uneven path, close enough that she’d feel his presence in the darkness, but not so close that she’d feel trapped.
“Thank you,” she said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them since leaving Ghost and Naomi. Her voice cracked slightly. “For taking this seriously. For believing me.”
“Of course.”
“You don’t understand.” She stopped walking, turned to face him. In the moonlight, her face was all shadows and pale angles. “No one’s ever just... believed me before.”
“I’ll always believe you, Maggie. Always.”
She studied his face for a long moment, then nodded once, like she’d confirmed something important.
They resumed walking, the main house dark except for a single light in Walker’s office window.
Most of the ranch would be asleep by now.
Even Boone, who’d texted confirmation that he’d swept the perimeter and found nothing unusual.
When they reached her cabin, Maggie stopped at the bottom step and stared at the door like it might swing open to reveal a monster waiting inside.
He could step back. Should, probably. Give her space, let her process—
But she reached for his hand, her fingers were like ice as they slid through his, and he realized he couldn’t.
He moved closer, wrapped his arms around her, and simply held her. Nothing more. Just presence and warmth and the promise that she didn’t have to carry this alone anymore.
She fit against him like she belonged there, her head tucked beneath his chin, her breath warm against his chest even through his flannel. For a moment, she remained tense, as if expecting him to pull away. When he didn’t, she gave a soft, shuddering exhale and melted into him.
Anson didn’t know how long they stood there in the cold night with their breaths clouding together.
Didn’t care.
This—being what she needed, being steady when everything else was chaos—this he could do. This made sense in a way other things didn’t.
Finally, she pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes damp but no longer clouded by fear.
He saw the kiss coming. He could have stopped it. Would have, this morning. But tonight, with the memory of those voicemails still echoing in his head, with the knowledge that she’d been alone and afraid for so long, he couldn’t deny her this comfort. This connection.
When her lips met his, he let himself sink into the kiss like a man drowning. Her mouth was soft but insistent, her hands fisting in the front of his shirt as she rose on her toes to reach him better. He cradled her face between his palms, his scarred thumbs brushing across her cheeks.
This wasn’t like last night’s desperate collision on her porch. This was slower, a deliberate choice they were making together, eyes wide open.
She made a small sound in the back of her throat, part need, and part relief, and something inside him unspooled.
He traced her cheekbones with his thumbs, his fingers threading through her hair, as he deepened the kiss.
Her whole body trembled. Her tongue slid against his, tentative at first, then bolder.
He wanted to devour her. Wanted to lift her up and carry her inside, show her with hands and mouth and body how much she mattered, how safe she was with him.
Instead, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers as they both caught their breath.
“Stay,” she whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of his heart. “Please. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
He swallowed hard, desire warring with the need to protect her, even from himself. “Maggie...”
“Just to sleep,” she added quickly. “The cabin doesn’t feel safe now.”
Nothing else she could have said or done would have moved him more.
Not her desire, not her need, but her fear.
He fucking hated that the sanctuary she’d sought at Valor Ridge had been violated by Landry’s voice.
And he hated it more that he’d been so wrapped up in his own anxiety and self-consciousness that he hadn’t been by her side to prevent it.
He wasn’t making that mistake again. “Okay. I’ll stay.”
Relief softened her features as she reached for his hand again, leading him up the steps.
The cabin was dark as they entered, and she fumbled for the light switch.
The warm glow revealed the whole space. It was just one room with a bed against one wall, a tiny kitchen along another, and a bathroom behind a pocket door.
Nowhere to hide, which probably felt like both a blessing and a curse right now.
Maggie kicked off her boots and curled up on the bed, pulling a thick knit blanket over herself without bothering to change clothes. Anson settled into the chair across from her, close enough that she could see him, know he was there.
“Bramble and the kittens—” she started, concern creasing her brow.
“They’re fine for now,” he assured her. “Lila will check on them, and Bramble’s on guard duty.”
Her smile was faint but genuine, the first he’d seen since finding her earlier with that phone in her hand. “He’s a good boy.”
“The best. Now get some sleep. I’m right here.
” He watched as exhaustion finally won and her eyes drifted closed.
Watched as the fear drained from her face with each deepening breath.
Watched as sleep claimed her at last, her fingers curled loosely in the blanket, dark hair spilling across the pillow.
In the quiet of her cabin, with her sleeping breaths the only sound, Anson finally let an uncomfortable truth settle in his chest: his biggest regret in life was setting the fire that killed Eddie Kowalski and scarred his arms, but even so, he’d happily burn the whole fucking world down before he’d let Landry hurt her.
Some men deserved the flames.