21. Felicity
FELICITY
The second I saw his face, every bit of air vanished from my lungs.
“No…”
The whisper broke apart before it fully left my mouth.
Eric Vaughn lifted his head slightly from the tavern floor, blood streaking from the corner of his mouth.
And smiled at me.
Not a normal smile.
Not a human smile.
The kind, cruel men wore when they knew they’d already hurt you.
Hersh instantly moved fully in front of me again.
Protective.
Deadly.
“What the hell is this?” Wolf demanded.
Ava looked sick.
Actually sick.
“Vaughn was part of the marshal task force six months ago.”
Ice flooded my veins.
Oh God.
Oh God.
Hersh’s voice dropped lower.
Dangerously lower.
“He had access to witness files?”
Ava nodded once.
Tate swore viciously under his breath.
Trigger looked ready to shoot somebody immediately.
Probably Vaughn.
Honestly?
Same.
The man coughed hard against the tavern floor before laughing again weakly.
“You people really suck at hiding witnesses.”
Rage flashed across Hersh’s face so fast it scared me.
Not loud rage.
Worse.
Controlled rage.
The kind soldiers carried.
Wolf shoved Vaughn harder into the floor.
“Start talking.”
Vaughn winced but still smiled through it.
“You’re already dead.”
My stomach twisted violently.
Because he sounded certain.
Not like he was bluffing.
Certain.
Hersh looked over his shoulder at me briefly.
And the second his eyes met mine?—
he knew.
“You know him.”
It wasn’t a question.
I swallowed hard.
“He was there.”
Silence crashed through the tavern.
Ava slowly turned toward me.
“What?”
Tears burned instantly behind my eyes.
Because I hadn’t talked about that night.
Not really.
Not fully.
Michael knew pieces.
The FBI knew facts.
But facts weren’t the same as memories.
And Vaughn?
Vaughn knew exactly what had happened.
I wrapped my arms around myself tightly.
“He was one of the marshals who picked me up after the shooting.”
Hersh went terrifyingly still.
“What shooting?”
Oh God.
I’d never actually told him.
Not really.
His eyes locked on mine now.
Focused completely.
“Flick.”
My throat closed hard.
“The parking garage.”
Confusion flickered across his face for half a second.
Then realization hit.
Because he remembered the news.
The headlines.
The woman who saw a cartel execution in Las Vegas.
The federal witness who disappeared afterward.
Me.
His face lost color instantly.
Jesus.
I’d never seen Hersh look scared before.
Not truly scared.
Until now.
“What happened?” he asked quietly.
Vaughn laughed again from the floor.
“You really wanna hear this?”
Wolf slammed him harder into the wood, hard enough to make the tavern rattle.
“Shut up.”
But the damage was already done.
Because now Hersh was looking at me like he realized this had always been worse than I admitted.
Way worse.
I couldn’t breathe around the memories suddenly clawing their way back up.
Blood.
Screaming.
Gunshots echoing in concrete.
A woman begging.
God—
“Hersh…”
He moved instantly.
Crossed the room.
Dropped to one knee in front of me like nothing else mattered.
Not Vaughn.
Not the storm.
Not the cartel.
Me.
Only me.
“Hey,” he said softly.
That one word nearly shattered me.
Because his voice changed completely when he spoke to me.
Gentle.
Careful.
Like he already knew I was drowning.
His hands settled lightly on my arms.
Warm.
Steady.
“You don’t gotta say anything right now.”
But Vaughn smiled from the floor again.
Cruel.
Satisfied.
“She watched them execute three people.”
The room went dead silent.
Every Ranger.
Every officer.
Every person froze.
My vision blurred instantly.
Because suddenly I wasn’t in Eagle River anymore.
I was back in Las Vegas.
Back in concrete shadows and blood pooling beneath fluorescent lights.
“No,” Hersh said quietly.
Not denial.
Pain.
Pure pain.
Vaughn kept talking anyway.
“She hid behind a car while one of the girls begged for her life.”
“Hersh…”
My voice cracked completely.
Vaughn turned his head slightly toward me despite Wolf nearly crushing him into the floor.
“You should’ve stayed hidden, sweetheart.”
Something snapped.
Not in me.
In Hersh.
I felt it happen.
The entire room felt it happen.
One second he was kneeling in front of me.
The next?—
He stood.
Slowly.
Terrifyingly calm.
Every bit of warmth disappeared from his face.
He turned toward Vaughn.
And suddenly I understood why people feared Army Rangers.
Because Hersh didn’t look angry.
He looked like death deciding whether someone deserved mercy.
Trigger quietly muttered:
“Oh, this guy’s screwed.”
Wolf actually shifted slightly off Vaughn.
Not protecting Vaughn.
Making room.
Tate didn’t stop it either.
Ava noticed immediately.
“So we’re all just letting this happen?” she asked carefully.
Nobody answered.
Because honestly?
Nobody seemed particularly interested in saving Eric Vaughn anymore.
Hersh walked toward him slowly.
Deliberately.
Vaughn’s smug smile finally faltered.