Keira
There’s a thump on the cabin door.
I get off the couch and peer through the window to find Sera waiting on the porch. The second I pull the door open, she’s already backing away.
“Get your boots on, Harrington,” she says over her shoulder. “We’re light on the ground tonight.”
“Do I get a choice?”
She glances back, her expression unimpressed. “Nope.”
Her reply is pure Tallon.
I shove my feet into the spare boots she’d given me earlier, grab one of Saint’s coats from the hook, and head outside as she walks off toward the yard.
“What am I doing?” I shout after her, pulling the coat tighter around me.
The scent of Saint clings to the collar and makes my blood run hotter. I tug it closer anyway.
“You’re on barn checks,” she says without slowing. “Water buckets. Horses. I’m sure ya know the drill.”
I shut the cabin door behind me and step into the icy wind, my breath catching in my throat.
Without Saint and his brothers around, the stud feels hollow.
The barn doors groan when I slide them open. Warm air pours out, thick with the sweet scent of hay, horse and feed pellets.
Overhead lights flick on, throwing shadowy stripes across the ground like prison bars.
A bay gelding lifts his head as I pass, ears pricked.
I peer over the stall door and glance at the full bucket of water, my focus slipping for a second. I’ve gone from being their prisoner to an obedient stable hand.
Sure, I’d rather be busy than bored. It’s warmer inside the cabin than freezing in the cold. But I’m fed up with hanging around. And angry at myself for thinking about Saint.
“Good boy,” I murmur to the horse, moving on.
The chestnut mare next door snorts when I top up her water bucket, the hose dragging along the ground.
Near the barn entrance, Shay stands at the ring pen gate, hands resting on the top rail. The yard dog sits beside his heel, both of them staring into the darkness.
His gaze stays fixed on the boundary fences, on the hedgerows beyond the north fields.
There’s something unnerving about his stoic observation. As if he’s waiting for something other than the Tallon brothers returning. Which means whatever emptied the yard earlier could have consequences.
Behind me, a horse kicks out. The bang cracks through the peacefulness.
Shay doesn’t even glance back.
By this time, stable hands should have finished the evening’s last tasks. Instead, there’s only the soft snuffle of tired horses and the wind whistling through.
I work my way along the stalls and eventually finish up at the end of the barn, doing a quick check as a dappled mare suddenly lifts her head, ears snapping back.
After a heartbeat of silence, another horse stamps.
For some reason, unease prickles through me, and I check over my shoulder a few times.
I pop the collar of Saint’s coat and make my way out of the barn. Headlights appear in the distance, full beams tracking the winding driveway, the vehicles bouncing over potholes as they race toward the yard.
My pulse kicks, thinking it’s Saint, except Shay curses under his breath and the dog barks, its hackles raised.
“Sera!” Shay draws his revolver. “We’ve got company.”
This isn’t the Tallon brothers pulling up.
Gravel pelts under the chassis as the vehicles tear through the open gate. The lead SUV is followed by a second one. Their full beams sweep across the barn doors and almost blind me.
The first SUV skids sideways near the front fence. The passenger doors fly open.
Shay ducks behind his truck. “Get back inside the barn, Harrington.”
Armed men spill out with dark jackets and balaclavas, their weapons already raised.
Shay fires first, and I dart sideways, taking cover behind the barn door.
There’s a loud burst of gunfire, and bullets hit the outside of the barn, splintering wood inches from the doorway.
I stumble into the aisle and look out, heart hammering so hard I can hear it in my ears.
Outside, Sera sprints across the yard and disappears into the feed room, only to burst back out with a rifle braced against her shoulder.
She doesn’t even think twice about pulling the trigger. The rifle kicks once, and she blows out their windshield.
It all happens so fast. One man near the SUV spins and takes a shot at her and misses. Shay aims, shoots, and clips the guy’s shoulder. He collapses against the hood, and his blood goes everywhere.
The yard erupts into chaos.
Horses grow restless in their stalls. Hooves scrape and whinnies grow louder.
I press myself against the wall, panic clawing up my throat.
My legs move before my brain catches up. I bolt down the aisle and shove the tack room door open, heading straight in.
Saddles and bridles crowd the walls on racks. There’s nowhere for me to hide other than behind the door.
My hands shake as I fumble through metal buckets and plastic tubs, searching for something heavy to defend myself with if I have to.
There’s a discarded farrier’s wrench near the lunge ropes. I grab it and turn toward the door, adrenaline pumping hard.
Outside, there’s shouting and more gunfire.
I peer around the door at the same time as a hand slams over my mouth.
My scream dies against a gloved palm. An arm locks around my chest, and I’m dragged against a solid body.
“Easy,” a male murmurs close to my ear.
My muscles lock. I know that voice.
“No need to fight me, Keira.”
Riley angles me into him and drags the balaclava off his head so I can see his clean-shaven face under the barn lights.
Relief hits first. He’s one of my father’s trusted men.
However, dread follows. I know what he’s capable of.
“It’s okay,” he mutters, tightening his grip as gunfire cracks outside again. “Your da sent us.”
His eyes flick toward the yard, and his hand drops away.
“You’re coming home with me,” he orders.
“How did you know I was here?”
“We didn’t,” he replies. “We just don’t trust the Tallons and their bullshit.”
“Is that why you didn’t come for me sooner? I’ve been here for days.”
Riley’s gaze drifts up to the right as he considers his response. But that beat of thought says it all.
My father is playing the game. And I’m just a piece on the board.
“Forget it.” I back up. “You’re here now.”
Another few shots are fired and my chest tightens. Sera’s out there, holding her ground with Shay while bullets are flying. Sure, she’s a Tallon, but I don’t want the woman dead.
And if that happened, it would only add fuel to an already hot hatred between our families.
“You need to call them off,” I say, my voice steadier than my emotions. “No one needs to die over me.”
Riley’s forehead creases, and I get the feeling he has orders to leave a mess behind.
“They made the first move by taking you from the gala,” he says. “Now stay close.”
“Tell your men to stand down,” I snap, twisting away. “They’re shooting at Sera Tallon.”
His jaw tightens, and he glances toward the doors.
“Yeah, and that bitch would shoot you in the back, Keira,” he says. “Don’t ever forget that.”
I draw a breath and hold it. I’m about to walk away from Saint, even with that spark of ours still festering under my skin, stubborn and impossible to ignore.
Despite that, it doesn’t change what I am to him.
I’m his leverage. That was always clear.
A Harrington he used to suit his family’s needs. Someone he’ll trade for land.
However, walking away unsettles me to the core. This will be the end of us… Of whatever truce we’d built and attraction we shared.
But I refuse to stay here as his hostage and pretend it’s anything else.
If Saint Tallon wants me—the woman I am with my family name branded into my DNA—then he can come for me, without walls or gates or men with guns.
I choose freedom.
If he wants me, he knows where I come from. He’s always known.
I force my feet to carry me into the frosty night air. A tightness pulls at my ribs and refuses to ease, even now, even knowing I’ll be home soon.
Men like Saint don’t choose the girl over their pride. So I won’t stay and make it easier for him not to choose at all.
I’m already in the yard with Riley when there’s a change in movement at the gates.
The next thing I know, Saint’s truck speeds between the posts and drives straight into the center of the yard.
Riley drags me behind him, but I peer around his arm to watch the truck rock on its suspension as the brakes slam. The driver’s door flies open while the engine is still running.
Saint jumps out, draws his gun and aims straight at Riley’s head. “Move away from the girl.”
His gaze locks on mine, and when it does, his eyes look wild, filled with a darkness that makes everything else fall away. The shouting, the gunfire, the man in front of me—it all fades.
A shot goes off near the fence, and Saint reacts, his chest angling and his hand already coming up to take a steady aim as he returns fire.
Nothing about him is rushed or careless, even now.
“Shay?” he calls. “You with Sera?”
“We’re here,” Sera shouts back. “We’ve got your back, Saint, and we’re gonna kill these bastards.”
“Don’t shoot,” he says, his gaze locking onto mine. “Not until I say.”
“Stay behind me, Keira,” Riley mutters, but there’s a strain in his voice now that wasn’t there before.
As Saint approaches us, there’s no softness in his expression, only a harsh glare covered in shadow that moves over his face the closer he gets.
“Didn’t ya hear me?” he grits. “I said, move away from her.”
Saint keeps coming.
“She’s going home to her father,” Riley announces. “Stand back, or I’ll shoot ya, Tallon.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Saint says.
Behind him, Dane’s Ford pulls up next to Saint’s truck, and his brothers spill out, ready for a fight.
“You’re outnumbered,” Riley replies, not backing down. “We know she’s here now, and Crowley will be sniffing around by sunrise. You’re not as smart as you think.”
Saint raises his chin, keeps his arm locked and his aim strong as his eyes hold mine.
“Keira,” he says. “You know you’re not leaving with this joker, don’t ya?”
“Yeah, I am,” I say, my heart thundering behind my ribs. “I’m a person, Saint. Not your bargaining chip. This whole hostage situation is over.”
His eyes narrow with dangerous clarity, and my stomach drops.
“You’re still standing in my territory, don’t forget,” he says. “Nothing is over until I say so.”
“I’m not asking for your permission,” I fire back. “I’m going home to my family.”
“Like fuck ya are.”
A few of my father’s men move into position around us, their weapons aimed at Saint.
Riley angles himself into me and grabs my arm. “Keep walking.”
“Get your hands off her,” Saint bites out. “You’ve got until the count of three to unhand her, or I’ll shoot ya in the fucking throat.”
Riley laughs. “Kill me, and Crowley will have a field day taking your fingerprints before locking you up for murder. The rest of your family will go down as accessories. You’re fucked. All of you are.”
Saint doesn’t even glance at the men surrounding him.
His focus burns into my face. “This isn’t gonna go the way ya think it will, Harrington.”
“We’re done here,” Riley mutters.
And in the second his hand clamps my wrist again and yanks, Saint moves.
It’s quick enough that I don’t see what happens, only hear the gunshot, then feel a sudden break in pressure as Riley’s grip on my arm falls away. His legs give out and he drops to the concrete.
Shay and Sera appear, their guns aimed at my father’s men, while Dane and Rafe move in next.
Saint looms over the top Riley, who’s nursing a bullet wound in his thigh.
“You tell that bastard ya work for that his daughter belongs to Saint Tallon until he signs the dotted fucking line. And I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with her until then.”
My insides recoil.
Bastard.
He moves closer to me and wraps his hand around my neck. Possession instead of softness.
“How dare you try to sneak away, Harrington,” he says. “This is far from over.”
I glare back at him, furious and hurt.
“Fine.” My throat works against his palm. “Force me to stay. But don’t think for one second I’ll continue to stay in your cabin so you can fuck me again. Because you’re wrong, Saint. This is well and truly over.”
“You slept with her?” Rafe shouts from the ground as he ropes a man’s ankles. “Jesus fucking Christ, Saint…”
Darkness passes behind his eyes, and my scalp prickles; the look he gives me is dangerously close to fury.
“Get these fuckers out of here,” he says, voice rough and firm. “Pile up the wounded and drop them off at Harrington’s gates.”
Saint releases my neck, takes one step back, and holsters his gun. “Well then, Harrington, looks like ya picked the hard way.”
“What does that mean?”
He thumbs his bottom lip in one slow sweep that has my skin tingling.
“You tried to leave my land,” he announces, his voice gravel-like, “while I was gone.”
His brothers move in the background, close enough that nothing between us goes unheard.
“And now you’re standing here telling me what you will and won’t do?”
When he chuckles, it sends a flare of anger through me.
“You’ll stay exactly where I put ya.”
“And where will that be?”
My stomach drops when Rafe suggests tying me up and locking me in the back of a trailer, left out in the far fields.
Saint’s gaze hardens, a coldness settling in. “Shay, chain the gates when ya get back. I’ve got something to take care of tonight.”