70. Felicity
FELICITY
My entire body went cold.
The throat-slash gesture.
The way he stared directly at me.
Not angry.
Not rushed.
Certain.
Like he already believed I belonged to him somehow.
“Holy hell,” Trigger muttered.
Wolf already had his rifle up.
“Say the word, Blaze.”
But Hersh?—
Hersh looked terrifyingly calm.
More dangerous than yelling.
More dangerous than rage.
Because his eyes never left Shepherd.
Not blinking.
Not moving.
Like something ancient and violent had just woken up inside him.
“Shepherd!” Hersh’s voice thundered across the ranch.
The storm swallowed part of it.
But Shepherd heard him.
I knew he did because he smiled.
That smile.
It wasn’t normal.
It wasn’t human.
It was obsession.
The kind that rotted people from the inside out.
The sheriff moved beside the window carefully.
“I can call state tactical in twenty minutes.”
“No,” Hersh said quietly.
The single word froze the room.
Wolf looked toward him slowly.
“You sure about that?”
“Yes.”
Still calm.
Still deadly.
Hersh stepped toward the front door.
Every instinct inside me screamed instantly.
“No.”
He stopped.
Turned slightly toward me.
And for one second?—
the hard killer expression on his face softened when he saw how scared I was.
“I’m not letting him stand outside this house threatening you.”
“He wants you angry.”
His jaw flexed once.
“He should’ve thought about that before he came here.”
Then he opened the front door.
Rain and thunder exploded inside instantly.
“Hersh!” I ran after him before anyone could stop me.
The second I hit the porch, cold rain drenched me again.
“Hersh don’t?—”
He turned fast.
Grabbed my arms.
His face was inches from mine now.
Water streamed down both of us while chaos and lightning crashed around the ranch.
“Listen to me.”
His voice was low.
Intense.
Every word deliberate.
“If anything happens?—”
“No.”
“Flick.”
“No.” Tears burned instantly in my eyes. “Don’t stand there talking like this is goodbye.”
Something painful moved across his face.
Because he understood exactly why I was panicking.
Because somewhere along the way?—
this stopped being protection.
Stopped being survival.
I loved him.
And he knew it now.
His hands slid gently against my rain-soaked hair.
“You know what he’s doing?”
“Yes.” My voice shook. “He wants me terrified.”
Hersh shook his head slowly.
“No.”
His eyes darkened toward Shepherd standing out near the fence.
“He wants me reckless.”
That realization hit like ice water.
Because Shepherd wasn’t targeting me anymore.
Not really.
He was trying to force Hersh into making mistakes.
Trying to pull him emotionally off balance.
Trying to weaponize love.
Shepherd slowly started walking closer through the rain.
Not fast.
Not hiding.
Just approaching the ranch like death itself had decided to come knocking.
Wolf stepped onto the porch behind us.
“Blaze.”
“I see him.”
The sheriff cursed behind us. “He’s armed.”
Of course he was.
But Hersh never looked away from Shepherd.
Neither man breaking eye contact now.
Years of hatred sitting between them in the storm.
And suddenly?—
Shepherd smiled again.
Then spoke loud enough for all of us to hear.
“She still sleeps with the light on.”
Every ounce of air vanished from my lungs.
No.
Hersh went completely still.
The kind of stillness right before violence exploded.
Because Shepherd had just admitted something horrifying.
He hadn’t only watched me once.
He’d watched me enough to know my habits.