22. Blaze
BLAZE
Eric Vaughn’s smile disappeared the second I stopped in front of him.
Good.
Because I was real close to making sure he never smiled again.
Rain hammered the tavern windows; even Trigger stopped talking, and they could hear the bastard breathing.
I crouched slowly in front of him.
Not rushed.
Not emotional.
Worse.
Controlled.
Vaughn swallowed once.
There it is.
Fear.
Finally.
“You were assigned to protect her,” I said quietly.
Blood streaked down from his mouth as he tried to recover some of that smugness.
“Wasn’t personal.”
My vision narrowed instantly.
Not personal.
Flick was crying herself to sleep for months because she watched people being executed by the cartel.
Flick jumping every time a car slowed outside.
Flick forgetting what safe felt like.
Not personal.
I smiled then.
Small.
Cold.
And Vaughn’s face changed immediately.
Because he realized something important.
I wasn’t a federal agent.
I wasn’t law enforcement.
I was a former Army Ranger.
And Rangers handled monsters differently.
“You sold her location,” I said.
Vaughn’s eyes flicked briefly toward Ava.
Interesting.
Ava saw it too.
“You son of a bitch,” she whispered.
He laughed weakly again.
“You think it was just me?”
The room went still.
Wolf’s expression darkened instantly.
“How many?” Tate demanded.
Vaughn looked toward me instead.
Still trying to provoke me.
Mistake.
“You know what cartel money buys these days?” he rasped. “Judges. Deputies. Marshals.” His smile turned ugly again. “People like her were worth a fortune alive.”
Behind me, I heard Flick suck in a sharp breath.
That did it.
I grabbed Vaughn by the front of his shirt and slammed him hard into the tavern floor.
The crack echoed through the room.
Ava flinched.
Trigger looked impressed.
Vaughn groaned in pain.
Good.
“Look at me,” I said softly.
He did.
And for the first time since walking into the tavern?—
he looked genuinely terrified.
Because I meant every word that came next.
“You ever talk about her like property again,” I said quietly, “they won’t find enough of you left to identify.”
Dead silence.
Tate rubbed one hand across his mouth slowly.
Wolf muttered, “Damn.”
Vaughn tried to laugh again, but it came out shaky now.
“You think you can protect her?”
Yes.
“You have no idea who’s coming.”
Probably true.
Didn’t matter.
“Then tell me.”
His smile came back slightly.
“There’s a reason the cartel wants her dead so badly.”
My stomach tightened instantly.
Not because of him.
Because…Flick heard every word. I turned as she went up the stairs.
“She didn’t just witness a murder,” Vaughn whispered. “She witnessed an execution tied to federal officials.”
The room froze.
Ava stared at him.
“What?”
Vaughn’s eyes glittered cruelly.
“The girl saw a senator’s son standing in that garage.”
Shock slammed through the tavern.
Even Trigger stopped moving.
Tate swore quietly.
Wolf’s expression turned murderous.
No wonder this never ended.
No wonder the cartel kept finding her.
This wasn’t just organized crime anymore.
This was political.
Federal.
Rotten all the way through.
Vaughn smiled again through blood.
“She can identify all of them.”
Fear hit me then.
Real fear.
Because suddenly this got bigger than Eagle River.
Bigger than Texas.
And…Flick heard every horrible piece of it again.
I stood instantly.
“Trigger.”
“Yeah?”
“Watch him.”
Trigger’s grin turned dangerous.
“With pleasure.”
I headed toward the stairs fast.
Behind me, Vaughn shouted after me:
“She’s gonna get you killed too!”
I stopped halfway up the stairs.
Slowly looked back over my shoulder.
And smiled.
Not nice.
Not sane.
The kind of smile that made Vaughn visibly tense against the floor.
“Maybe,” I said quietly.
Then I looked straight at him.
“But you’re definitely dying first.”