Chapter 4 Rylie
Rylie
The moment the tavern door shut behind us, my knees stopped working.
I didn’t collapse because Trigger didn’t let me.
His arms were iron around me—warm, steady, real.
For a second, I let myself breathe.
The tavern only had a few customers—the music was turned down low. I could smell beer and fried food.
Normal for this place. I missed it. It felt like it’s been years since I’ve laughed and simply enjoyed being alive.
It made me want to cry.
Trigger helped me onto a barstool like I was something precious. Like I mattered.
I didn’t deserve it.
Not after dragging this nightmare into their lives.
“Do you want a beer?” Saint asked.
“No, I need a clear head.”
Nora appeared from the crowd like a miracle, her eyes widening when she saw me in my ruined dress.
“Oh my gosh—Rylie,” she breathed, and then she was there, hands on my shoulders, looking me over. “Are you hurt? What happened? I take it you don’t want to get married, since you ran away from your own wedding.”
I opened my mouth, and nothing came out.
My throat was tight, like it still remembered Thomas’s fingers around it.
Trigger’s hand came to my back—just there, firm and grounding.
“He followed her,” Trigger said, voice flat. “Suit. One bodyguard. They’re outside somewhere.”
Nora’s face went white. “What do you mean they’re outside? I didn’t see anyone out there. He must have left.”
Saint appeared, already pulling his phone out. “We’ll clear the room. Quietly. Everyone out the back.”
“No,” I said too fast, panic snapping. “No—if we make a scene, he—”
Trigger’s gaze locked on mine. “Rylie. Who is he?”
I swallowed so hard it hurt. The room tilted slightly.
“He’s… Thomas Thorn,” I forced out. “He’s… a lawyer.”
A flicker of disbelief crossed Saint’s face. “We know that, but why are you scared of your fiancée? A lawyer doesn’t usually show up with a bodyguard.”
Trigger didn’t speak. He just watched me with those eyes that made me feel seen in a way I didn’t want right now.
Because if he saw too much…
They’d never forgive me for bringing this monster to Eagle River.
“He threatened my dad,” I whispered. “He threatened this town.”
The words were out.
And once they were out, they kept coming.
“I thought I could handle it,” I said, voice shaking. “I thought if I played along, I could find a way out without anyone getting hurt.”
Trigger’s jaw flexed.
Nora’s hand flew to her mouth. Wyatt stood quietly behind her, listening.
Saint cursed under his breath.
“I—” My eyes burned. “He said if I didn’t marry him, he’d send men here. Not just to scare people. To… to make examples.”
Trigger leaned in. His voice dropped, deadly calm. “Did he touch you?”
My lungs locked.
I couldn’t answer.
Because if I said yes, Trigger would go outside and kill him with his bare hands.
And that would start a war.
Trigger’s gaze sharpened. “Rylie.”
I looked at his chest because I couldn’t look at his eyes. Before I could stop my mouth from speaking, it started on its own. “He grabbed my throat when I refused to… cooperate. I blacked out.”
Silence slammed into the room.
It felt like every sound in the tavern was muted, like even the jukebox was listening.
Trigger’s face changed.
Not anger.
Not jealousy.
Something colder.
Controlled.
Havoc’s voice cut in, low. “We need her off the floor. Now.”
Saint nodded once. “Upstairs. Secure room.”
Nora squeezed my shoulder. “We’ll protect you.”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand—he has people. He has the Mexican mafia. And—”
Trigger’s hand slid under my chin, tipping my face up.
His touch was gentle.
His eyes were not.
“Rylie,” he said, voice quiet and absolute. “You’re in Eagle River now.”
His thumb brushed once against my jaw like a promise.
“You’re not facing this alone.”
And for one terrifying second, I believed him.