Chapter 10 #3
“We’re rangers, not tactical units.” Noah’s pulse hammered. The weight of his team’s eagerness clashed against every instinct screaming danger. Liam was solid, but Nimue? Wild card. That blood in her camper had the alarm in his head clanging. “What if we’re underestimating what they’re up against?”
“Exactly.” Teague stepped closer. “Which means you’re underestimating how much they might need us. If we can’t handle it, we call for backup. Liam doesn’t have a phone. He’s flying blind out there.” Teague’s jaw set. “You want to stay here? The three of us can handle it.”
Noah’s eyes found Meg. Her unwavering gaze anchored him despite the chaos in his head. No way was he letting her—letting any of them—head into the canyon without him. Not with blood evidence. Not with Liam’s cryptic message echoing in his head.
“Fine.” The word came out low, resolute. “We’re going.”
“If you’ve got three, I’ll stay.” Eden was already moving, pulling a sat phone from the charger. “Be your communications hub.”
She handed him the phone and Noah nodded. At least one of them was thinking clearly.
“Twenty minutes. Pack light—layers, water, protein.”
As the group scattered, Noah caught Meg’s eye. Her smile was small. Knowing. Warm.
Oh boy. Maybe Liam wasn’t the only ranger in trouble.
They’d been here too long.
Over two hours since they’d been trapped in this glorified rock shelter, and only now was the rain finally starting to ease. Nimue pressed her back against the rough sandstone, knees drawn up, damp clothes plastered to her skin like a second layer of misery.
Liam was unraveling.
She watched him rifle through his pack, movements rough and agitated. A water bottle flew aside, clattering against the cave wall loud enough to make her wince. Caged-animal energy radiated off him—all coiled tension and barely contained frustration.
“We need to move.” He growled. “This rain needs to stop.”
He’d been incredible through all of this. Patient. Protective. And he didn’t even understand half of what they were running from.
Maybe it was time to give him more pieces. Tell him the story.
“Liam. Sit down. We’re not going anywhere yet. And…I think you should know what’s really going on.”
He frowned but obeyed, sliding down to sit opposite her.
She sighed. Then, “My sister, Emberly…” The words turned rusty in her throat. “When I went into foster care, she joined the Black Swans. Back then, I had no clue what that meant. I just knew she was gone.”
Liam said nothing, simply listened.
“Last year I helped her uncover a plan by the Bratva to kidnap the president’s daughter.
It involved some high-tech AI and…people were hurt.
Bratva players arrested. And while we saved the president’s daughter, one of the players—a woman named Teresa—came after us.
She tracked us to the parents’ home of my sister’s boyfriend, a place called the King’s Inn, in Minnesota. ”
“The place that got blown up?” Liam’s voice snapped. “Where someone held a gun to your head?”
She nodded, her chest tightening at the memory.
“Yeah. Emberly was taken too, but Stein and his family rescued us. Teresa escaped. We grabbed this guy named Tomas—he was a big honcho, apparently, and I got ahold of his cell phone. I used it to dig deeper into their operation, download files, and gain access to their bank account. I turned everything over to the Caleb Group.”
His eyebrow climbed.
“They’re the good guys. It’s complicated.
” She waved a hand. “They froze the money and started decrypting the files. I kept a copy, however, and did my own sleuthing. The files seemed like nothing. Then yesterday I cracked one of them. Unfortunately, I think that’s how they pinged my location.
It was just a couple hours before the break-in. ”
He stared at her, his jaw tight. “You let me keep thinking it was the teenagers.”
Heat crept up her neck. “I wasn’t sure. It didn’t seem possible they could track me that fast. But with those photos they showed me…”
Liam’s hands were forming fists now. “They contacted you?”
Right. That detail.
“Just before you showed up yesterday, Teresa called.” The four-million-dollar demand sat on her chest like a lead weight, but she swallowed it down. It wasn’t just big…It was impossible. “Said she wanted her files back.”
“What was in them?”
“Has to be more than I found. The one I opened was fake—Roomba specs in Russian. Total decoy.”
He seemed to be searching her eyes, as if he could peel back her thoughts layer by layer. See every secret she was hoarding. The money demand. The threats against him. All the pieces she kept locked away, telling herself it was for his protection.
“Is that everything?” The question came out quiet.
“Isn’t that enough?”
He just looked at her.
She looked away. The money was her problem. Her burden. And telling him about Teresa’s threat would only make him do something stupidly heroic. He was already risking everything just being here.
Liam’s exhale stirred the air between them. His hand scraped through damp hair. “All right. Get into dry clothes. I’ll keep watch.” He turned his back to her.
She faced the cave wall, deep crevices in the face, a crack as big as her thigh.
She set the pack down, then rifled through it, found dry clothes.
She whipped off her wet shirt, pulled on a dry one.
She then pulled off her damp jeans, rolling them into a ball and setting them on the cave floor. Started pulling on clean cargo pants—
Something glinted in the darkness of the largest crevice. She knelt and put her hand into the opening.
Her fingers hit something cold. Metallic.
What in the world?
She traced the edges.
A chest.
And it was heavy.
Her pulse kicked into overdrive as she dragged it into the thin shaft of light.
Too clean, too modern to be some forgotten relic from the canyon’s past. Steel dulled by years of cave air gleamed faintly in the wan light, its corners still sharp despite a patina of dust and mineral deposits.
The latches had developed a thin film of corrosion, but the craftsmanship underneath spoke of quality—military-grade construction meant to last decades.
Scratches scored the surface where rocks had shifted against it over time, and a thin layer of calcified dripstone crusted one corner.
She glanced over her shoulder—Liam was still staring out at the canyon, playing sentry.
The latch gave with a soft click.
Her breath stopped.
Gold bars, shiny. Maybe twenty. Twenty-five. Each one the size of her phone, stamped with 1 kilo in neat lettering.
Her mind scrambled through calculations—more than three thousand an ounce, roughly thirty-five ounces per kilo…
This was a fortune. Two million. Maybe three, depending on how many bars there were.
Her hands shook as she lifted one bar, the weight solid in her palms. Between this and everything she could liquidate from her inheritance…
It might be enough. Enough to pay Teresa. Buy freedom for both of them.
Wait—what was she thinking? This didn’t belong to her.
The practical side of her brain kicked in.
She needed to tell Liam. Let him in on this crazy discovery. But the more he knew, the deeper he’d sink into her quicksand. And wouldn’t he be duty-bound to turn this over to the park service?
Plus, when this nightmare ended, he needed to walk away clean. Paying off criminals with stolen gold? Not exactly clean.
But the chest looked old—maybe twenty years or more, rusty and dirty.
Whoever put this here wasn’t coming back. Probably. So, what—finders, keepers?
“You done yet?”
“Nope,” she said, her throat burning.
She couldn’t haul all of this out on her own.
One bar though. One might work as a down payment. Untraceable gold had to be better currency than digital transfers.
She wrapped the bar in her wet shirt, nestled it deep in her pack under spare socks. Something to show Emberly. Let her sister’s tactical brain figure out the next move.
For now, it could be her secret.
She shut the chest and shoved it back into the crevice, just a little deeper, where sunlight couldn’t hit it. Then she shoved the rest of her stuff back in her pack. “Done.”
When she turned around, Liam had changed too.
Fitted thermal replaced his soaked T-shirt, the fabric hugging his shoulders in ways that made her mouth go dry.
He sat on the cave floor, emergency blanket draped across his lap, face softened by the gentle light stretching in the cave from the gray sky.
The rain still fell.
Their eyes met. His arms opened. “C’mere.”
She hesitated—then sank into the embrace he offered, leaning back against his chest. His arms came around her, blanket crinkling as he tucked it over them both.
His warmth surrounded her, steady and solid, and for the first time in days her racing pulse slowed. She’d never felt this safe. Not in the bus. Not in Florida. Nowhere.
The realization hit like cold water.
What if home wasn’t a place? What if it was a person?
What if it was Liam?
And now she was hiding more secrets from him.
Her fingers gripped the blanket’s edge. The gold bar’s weight in the pack was a reminder of all the secrets still wedged between them. She wanted to spill everything. The money demand. The threats. The wild hope that gold might buy her freedom.
But this moment felt too fragile. Too perfect to shatter with harsh realities.
She rested her head against his shoulder. Breathed.
“You okay?” His voice rumbled against her ear, warm breath stirring her hair.
“Yeah.” The word came out soft. Even. “Just…glad you’re here.”
His arms tightened, a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.
She closed her eyes, letting the rain’s rhythm fill the space between them. The Bratva were out there—maybe closer than she wanted to think. But here, now, with Liam’s heartbeat steady against her spine, she felt untouchable.
It couldn’t last. The gold, the lies, the danger—everything would catch up eventually.
But for now, she leaned in, held on, wondering if she’d ever find the strength to let go.