Chapter 19
BOONE
Ikeep the phone pressed to my ear long after the line goes dead, the office hum the only sound as I stare at the snowy pines outside the window. For the last few days, my gut has told me Vincent Caruso isn’t just some wannabe with muscle and a gun. My instincts are screaming that he’s dangerous.
Now I have confirmation.
The connections I’ve made over the years don’t lie. Every quiet word I gather from informants, private contacts, and people who owe us favors paints the same picture.
Caruso isn’t just a mob boss. He’s a force of nature. The Caruso crime family has been running parts of New York for decades. They’re infamous, known for their particular brand of violence and an unforgiving history.
I’ve heard stories about his father and his grandfather that make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. And Vincent…
Rumor has it he offed his own uncle to take the top spot. He doesn’t forgive. He doesn’t forget. When he ties up loose ends, men disappear for good. Without a trace.
In other words, he’s the real deal. The boogeyman under the bed.
I finally toss my phone onto the desk and sink back into my chair, letting the weight of it settle. This isn’t just a threat. This is a full-on storm, and Roxie is standing right in the middle of it.
My chest tightens at the thought of what could happen if we aren’t ready. Because he will come. The only variable is when.
From the sound of it, Roxie and her friend covered their tracks as well as they could. Madison paid cash for the bus ticket. They dyed Roxie’s hair so she wouldn’t be instantly recognizable on camera footage. She packed light so she didn’t stand out.
There’s nothing more they could’ve done, but the reality is this. Roxie doesn’t have many people back in New York.
If Caruso’s men are really looking, and I’m convinced they are, they’ll find Madison sooner or later. And once they do, they’ll find out about the cabin.
I pick up my phone again, urgency burning through my veins like a wildfire. “Chance, Dillon, conference room. Now.”
Within minutes, they’re both there, faces serious, eyes sharp. I outline everything I learned about Caruso’s history, his family’s brutality, the size of his operation, and how far his reach is rumored to extend.
Neither of them flinches.
“Here’s the deal,” I say, spreading the intel across the table.
“We’ve got someone actively looking for her.
I don’t have confirmation yet, but everything we know indicates Vincent Caruso doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants.
Whether that’s now or five years from now, he will come.
When he does, Roxie has to be untouchable. So does this place.”
Chance leans forward, fingers steepled. “We’ll need serious security upgrades. Cameras. Motion sensors. Full perimeter lockdown.”
“Firewalls even I can’t crack,” Dillon adds with a grim smirk. “I’ll wipe her digital footprint clean. New accounts. No traceable purchases. We might even need to pay her in cash.”
“Whatever she needs,” I say immediately. “But it still might not be enough.”
“What else?” Dillon asks.
“We train,” I say. “Drills. Escape routes. Contingencies. Roxie needs to know she’s safe with us.”
Chance nods. “I’ll map everything by dawn. But we need to be careful how we tell her. I’d lose my mind if someone dropped that on me out of nowhere.”
“So would I,” Dillon says. “I don’t want her afraid in her own home.”
Pride swells in my chest. This is what makes us work. We aren’t three guys playing house, we’re a unit. A wall.
Caruso has no idea what’s waiting for him.
I expect one hell of a fight. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who backs off once he realizes resistance exists. He’ll come in hard, and we’ll have to meet him head-on.
Buying weapons in town is too risky. We can’t break routine. Instead, I already know who to call.
Chance leaves to start mapping routes. Dillon lingers, then looks at me.
“Before I go… do you think she’s okay?”
“No,” I say honestly. “How could she be?”
“That’s not what I mean,” he snaps. “She seems different.”
“Yeah,” I admit. “But one thing at a time. She trusted us with the truth. Let’s earn that trust.”
He groans. “More waiting.”
“It’s called patience.”
After he leaves, I sit back, heavier than before.
I noticed it too. The coffee she doesn’t drink. The alcohol she avoids. The way food turns her stomach. Last night’s chicken sent her running for the bathroom. The steak the night before made her go green just looking at it.
I rub the bridge of my nose.
I suspect she’s pregnant.
But I don’t say anything. Not yet.
She needs to come to us on her own terms. And if I’m right, this is no small thing to process.
I stare out at the mist-covered mountains and let myself imagine it. Three men. One woman. A baby. Not traditional, but who the hell cares?
I always want a family. Before my marriage ended, before everything fell apart, I pictured mornings filled with laughter and chaos. Someone small tugging on my hand.
If Roxie is pregnant, I’m not afraid at all.
I’m ready.
For now, I push the thought aside and focus on preparation. For Caruso. For whatever comes next. For her.
Whatever it looks like, however messy it gets, I’ll make it work.
Because she deserves it.
And so do we.