Chapter 6 #3
"Don't make me regret this." It's not quite approval, but it's close. It is the grudging acknowledgment of someone who has taken her measure and come away without an argument.
Raven doesn't blink. "Your brother has saved my life several times. I don't forget debts."
Something shifts in Knox's expression, maybe respect or maybe just the acknowledgment that she understands how this world works. He gives a sharp nod and heads out.
Beckett stops in the doorway. He doesn't look at Raven, just keeps his eyes on me. "We need to figure out Carmichael's endgame. A man like that doesn't send her here and pull you back in without a plan beyond what he's told you."
"I know."
"Just make sure we're not someone else's pawns." He holds my gaze for a beat, then heads for the truck.
Knox is already behind the wheel with the engine running. I watch from the doorway until they disappear into the trees, then stand there for several more minutes to make sure they weren't followed.
When I turn around, Raven is still in the kitchen. The afternoon light slants through the windows, painting the room in long shadows. She's watching me with an expression I can't quite read.
"Your brothers are solid." Her voice is quiet.
"They've had to be."
She nods slowly, absorbing that. "They know now. About me, about Carmichael, all of it."
"And they're still in."
Her posture eases. It isn't relief exactly, but it's the kind of shift that comes when a weight distributes across more shoulders.
I move to the window and check the tree line one more time out of force of habit. The cabin feels different now, less like a hiding place and more like a base of operations. My brothers know the truth. Raven is here. Carmichael is playing his game, and the cartel is circling.
But we're not scattered anymore. We're not isolated. And we're in this until the end.
Outside, the Hill Country stretches in every direction. Somewhere out there, the cartel is regrouping, and a war is coming whether we're ready for it or not.
I glance back at Raven. She has moved to the other window with her hand resting near her Glock, scanning the horizon the same way I do in hostile territory. Operator habits die hard.
She catches me looking and holds my gaze. Neither of us speaks for a long moment.
"Beckett's right about Uncle Robert." She turns from the window.
"He says he wants the cartel's leadership drawn out, but Harlan changes the equation.
If Uncle Robert already knew about a dirty sheriff running the pipeline, he should have told us.
And if he didn't know, then he's not as informed as he wants us to believe. "
"I know."
"And you're okay with that?"
"I'm not okay with any of it. But Carmichael's plans aren't the only ones in play anymore." I hold her gaze. "He can run his operation. We'll run ours."
She studies me for a long moment, weighing that. "Partners, then. For real this time. No more secrets and no more decisions made for me."
"Partners."
She turns it over for a moment before she speaks again. "I spent years hating you for that night. For dragging me away while my uncle died, for putting me on that plane, for disappearing without a word."
"I know."
"Do you?" She takes a step closer. "Because I need you to understand what it was like. I woke up in Virginia with strangers and no idea where you were. I learned that Uncle Martin was dead, that you'd killed your own father. I didn't know if I should thank you or hunt you down."
"You had every right to hate me."
"I did hate you." She pauses. "But you saved my life. And you sacrificed so much because of that decision, even when I had no idea you were doing it. So now I don't know what to feel."
I don't have an answer for that. I don't know how to fix ten years of complicated history and trauma.
"You don't have to feel anything," I finally say. "You just have to stay alive long enough for us to figure this out."
"What now?"
"Now we wait. We watch. We gather intel and we stay ready."
"For what?"
"For the cartel to make their next move. For Harlan to tip his hand. For Carmichael to show us what he's really after." I move away from the window. "For whatever comes next."
"That's not much of a plan."
"It's the only plan we've got for now."
She doesn't argue with that. We're playing a game against opponents who hold better cards and more resources, and all we can do is survive long enough to find an opening.
"I should check the perimeter." I head for the door. "Motion sensors, sight lines. I want to make sure Knox and Beckett didn't leave any tracks we need to cover."
"Jesse."
I stop with my hand on the doorknob.
"Thank you. For bringing them in." She pauses. "It helps, knowing we're not doing this alone."
I meet her gaze one more time and nod. Then I step outside into the afternoon heat. The sun is already high, the air thick with the hum of insects in the cedar.
As I walk the tree line, something settles inside my chest. It isn't hope, because hope gets people killed in this business.
But with Raven inside and my brothers in the fight, something has shifted.
The waiting and watching and reacting have sharpened into something familiar, the feeling of being coiled to strike and just needing the opportunity.
I'd call it readiness.