Chapter 8 Rylie
Rylie
The Magnolia ladies refused to leave.
I should’ve expected it.
They parked themselves in the living room like they were guarding a royal heir, and I didn’t have the energy to argue.
“I’ll make tea,” Mable announced, already walking toward the kitchen like she owned the upstairs apartments. This upstairs is where the Rangers lived. There were seven bedrooms, each had their own bathroom, a large living room, and a kitchen.
“We need casseroles,” another one said—I couldn’t remember her name because my brain was still stuck in survival mode.
“We need blankets,” someone else chimed in.
Nora sat beside me on the sofa, her belly huge and her eyes sharp. “Rylie,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
I stared at my hands.
I could still feel Thomas’s fingers on my throat. The way the pressure had been calm, measured, like he was training me.
“I didn’t want anyone hurt,” I whispered.
Nora squeezed my fingers. “You think we’re not already hurt? We’ve been worried about you.”
I swallowed hard.
Trigger stood near the window, arms crossed, scanning the street like a predator.
He looked so big watching me.
So controlled.
And I couldn’t stop watching him.
Because my body remembered him. His laugh in the tavern. The way he’d always been there when I came home to visit my dad—quiet, teasing, infuriatingly handsome.
I’d told myself I didn’t need him.
I’d told myself I couldn’t want him.
I’d been wrong.
The Magnolia ladies finally shuffled out after Sheriff Tate promised them they’d be updated. They didn’t look convinced, but they left.
Trigger didn’t move.
The room felt too quiet once the chaos was gone.
Nora tilted her head, watching Trigger. “You two need to talk.”
Trigger’s jaw flexed. “Nora—”
“No,” she said firmly. “I’m not leaving her alone with this. But I will go into the other room and pretend I’m not listening.”
Trigger’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Where is your husband?”
“He’s downstairs.”
Nora smiled. “Try not to be too scary.”
Then she waddled into the bedroom, closing the door to a crack—absolutely not subtle.
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Trigger finally turned from the window.
His gaze landed on me like heat.
I lifted my chin, trying to look like I wasn’t afraid.
Trigger’s voice came out quiet. “Why didn’t you call me?”
My throat tightened. “You were gone.”
“You could’ve called Saint. Havoc. Anyone.”
“I didn’t want the Rangers involved,” I snapped before I could stop myself. Then my voice softened. “Because once you’re involved, someone ends up bleeding.”
Trigger took a slow step toward me.
“That’s the point,” he said. “We bleed so you don’t.”
I stared at him.
His eyes didn’t flinch.
I whispered, “Thomas said he would kill you first.”
Trigger’s face went still.
My chest tightened. “He knows you’re the one person in town who would take me from him.”
Trigger’s voice dropped. “He’s right.”
The words slammed into me.
I tried to breathe around them. “Trigger—”
He crouched in front of me, bringing his eyes level with mine. His hands rested on his knees, controlled. Not touching me.
Giving me a choice.
“I need details,” he said. “Everything you remember. Names. Locations. Threats. Timelines.”
The lawyer part of my brain clicked on.
I swallowed, forcing myself into facts. “I have everything written down.”
“He works on the top floor of my building. His office connects to mine through a shared hallway. He’s been watching me for months. I tried everything to ignore him.”
Trigger’s eyes sharpened. “Watching you how?”
“He’d show up in the elevator, at the café. He’d send flowers. Gifts. He’d call my assistant. Then one day he came into my office and shut the door.”
My hands started shaking again.
Trigger’s voice stayed calm. “What did he say?”
“He said he knew I’d been chosen as District Attorney. He said I could make his life easy… or I could make his life difficult.”
I swallowed hard. “He offered a partnership. I said no.”
Trigger’s jaw flexed. “Then he choked you.”
I nodded once, tears slipping free.
Trigger’s eyes went dark.
“Then he forced the engagement,” he said, like he was piecing together a puzzle.
“Yes,” I whispered. “He told me I’d marry him, and then I’d do what he wanted. He said no one would believe me because he’d make me look unstable.”
Trigger’s gaze held mine. “And you believed him.”
I hated the truth.
But I nodded again.
Trigger inhaled slowly, then exhaled like he was compressing rage into something usable.
“I’m going to end this,” he said.
Fear surged. “How?”
He stood and turned back to the window.
“By making him realize,” he said quietly, “that Eagle River isn’t his kind of town.”