Chapter 22 #2
As they passed through the ranch gates onto the county road, Anson’s breath caught, a soft hitch that he masked with a cough. Every instinct screamed to turn back.
“So.” X leaned forward between the front seats. “Must be serious, huh?”
“What?”
“You. Leaving the ranch. Voluntarily.” A smile played at the corner of his mouth. “For a woman.”
Heat crept up his neck. “Not about that.”
“No? Before all that mess with Nessie this summer, you hadn’t left in how long?”
“Two years.”
X’s smile widened. “Two years, three weeks, and four days, but who’s counting? Point is, she must mean something to you.”
He stared straight ahead at the snow-covered road. “Drop it.”
“I’m just saying, it’s nice.” X’s voice softened. “Seeing you care about something besides horses and metal and leather and Bramble.”
The rest of the drive passed in silence. With each mile closer to town, Anson’s chest tightened further. By the time they pulled into the residential neighborhood where the Millers lived, he was taking shallow breaths, fighting the urge to tell Bear to turn around.
The house was a modest two-story with Christmas lights already strung across the porch railing. Bear parked at the curb, and they sat for a moment, engine idling.
“Want us to do the talking?” X offered.
Anson shook his head, forcing himself to open the door. “My job.”
They walked up the shoveled path to the front door, X and Bear flanking him like bodyguards. Anson knocked, three sharp raps that seemed to echo in the quiet neighborhood.
Footsteps approached. The door swung open, revealing Evan Miller in a faded Star Wars t-shirt. His eager smile faltered as he took in the three men on his doorstep, eyes widening with recognition.
“Oh. Um. Hi?” His gaze bounced between them, settling on Anson. “You’re from Valor Ridge.”
“Yes.” Anson swallowed against the dryness in his throat, forced himself to meet the kid’s eyes. “Need to talk. About your post.”
“My post?” Confusion flickered across Evan’s face, then dawning comprehension. “You mean about Magnolia Rowe? Oh man, that’s blown up. Over a thousand likes now! My follower count jumped like crazy.”
X leaned casually against the doorframe, his smile pleasant but his eyes hard. “That’s actually the problem, kid.”
Anson took a deep breath. Words. He needed words now, when they mattered most. “Maggie came to Montana for privacy.” He stepped forward, crowding into the doorway. “And you photographed her without permission.”
Evan’s smile faltered. “I... I didn’t think it was a big deal. People love her show.”
“Delete it,” Anson said, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Now.”
“But—”
Bear crossed his arms, making his boulder-sized arms bulge. “It wasn’t a suggestion.”
Evan swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, but then he straightened his shoulders and got brave.
Stupid.
“I don’t see why it’s a problem.”
“Kid.” X’s smile disappeared completely. “You need to understand something. When a woman asks not to have her photo taken, there’s usually a damn good reason.”
“She’s at Valor Ridge as our guest,” Anson continued, forcing each word past the tightness in his throat. “And we protect our guests.”
Evan’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean any harm—”
“Intentions don’t matter,” Bear rumbled. “Results do.”
“Delete the post,” Anson repeated, taking another step forward until he was almost inside the house.
The kid fumbled for his phone, nearly dropping it in his haste. “Okay, okay. Deleting now. See?” He navigated to the post, then held up the screen when he hit delete. “Gone. It’s gone.”
“All pictures,” X added. “Including your camera roll.”
“But—”
“All of them,” Bear rumbled.
Evan’s shoulders slumped as he deleted the photos. “There. Done.”
But Anson wasn’t finished. “If you ever see Maggie again—in town, at the store, anywhere—you walk the other way. You don’t approach her. You don’t take pictures. You don’t post about her.”
“I get it. No photos.” Evan’s voice had gone small.
“And if anyone asks about her, you never saw her.” X’s smile returned, sharp as a blade. “Understand?”
The kid nodded frantically. “Never saw her. Got it.”
Anson started to turn away, then paused, turning back to fix Evan with one last look. “Those thousand likes? They’re not worth what would happen if we have to come back.”
“You won’t have to come back,” Evan said quickly. “Promise.”
As they walked back to the truck, the band around Anson’s chest loosened fractionally. The kid had looked properly terrified—mission accomplished. But the exposure had already happened. How many people had seen that post? How many had shared it?
“Ghost can track the shares,” X said, as if reading his thoughts. “Get most of them taken down.”
“Most isn’t good enough.” Anson climbed into the passenger seat, and his hands started shaking again. Adrenaline, he told himself. Not panic.
Before prison, he would’ve handled this without breaking a sweat. He’d liked socializing, had considered himself an extrovert.
But there he was, struggling to breathe just from a five-minute conversation with a fucking teenager.
Godammit. He didn’t want to be like this. He wanted to be normal again. He wanted to be the one to take Maggie to Haven House on Wednesday. And he should’ve been the one to take her shopping today, not Johanna.
Bear slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition, but didn’t shift into drive immediately. Instead, he sat quietly, eyes straight ahead, giving Anson space to pull himself together.
X leaned forward from the backseat. “Anyone else kinda disappointed the kid folded like wet cardboard?”
“Best response we could’ve got,” Bear grumbled.
Anson managed a short nod, not trusting his voice. The tremors had spread from his hands up his arms, adrenaline crash making his muscles twitch and jump.
Bear reached over and turned up the heater, the only acknowledgment of his distress. “Back to the ranch?”
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. “Back to Maggie.”