41
T he pickup’s headlights illuminate the forest. I get out and close the door, doing a quick sweep of our surroundings. The full moon above. The cabin a hundred yards in front of us. And one set of footprints—aimed for Eden.
There was no time to get Keena. I used the access route from the ranch up to Eden, saving me a thirty-minute drive via Dead Fred’s Curve. I called for backup the second we hit the forest. This way, I get a head start on the cops.
Fuck this holding up in court. It won’t get that far. I’m putting King down. Tonight.
I draw my gun and inch forward. Ford and Wyatt follow behind me. There’s a nervous energy in the air. I haven’t felt this kind of pressure since that night overseas. This counts for everything.
It would take a grave to drag me away from Dakota. But even then, I’d find my way out.
Because my reason for living is on the other side of that dirt and I don’t go anywhere without her.
We cover the distance to the cabin easily, moving over soft soil and loam. My heart pounds in my chest as we approach. If this is a trap, so fucking be it. Dakota’s here. I can feel it.
When I find that girl, I’m marrying her. No way in hell I’m letting her out of my arms, let alone my sight, again.
I freeze a foot from the cabin.
The door is open.
A rasp beside me. “Fallon.” Wyatt’s complexion resembles the color of chalk.
Ready for it, I throw an arm out, cutting off Wyatt before he can barrel past me. His lean body is tense, poised for battle. He whips to me, his jaw set in a tight line. Anger radiates from him.
“Stay the fuck back.” I point at the cabin, look at Ford. “I go in first. He’s armed.”
“Don’t get your ass shot,” Ford hisses. “Again.”
“Remind me to tell you that story,” I promise, inching forward. “We make it out of here.”
“Hold you to it, brother.” Ford nods, grabs Wyatt by the neck. “Go. I got him.”
I step through the open door and do a quick scan of the kitchen.
Empty.
I continue down the hall until I find the bedroom. The door is open, the room dark. I smell the metallic tang of blood before I see it.
God, no.
My brain empties. I feel along the wall for a light switch and when I flick it on, my heart stops.
There’s a body in the middle of the room.
“Dakota,” I rasp.
Dread curdles my stomach. I drop to my knees and roll her over.
Except it’s not her.
“Fuck.”
Fallon’s pale, unconscious face stares up at me. A nasty bruise paints her cheek and temple. Crimson blooms across her torso. It seeps through the fabric of her thin tank top to creep across the floorboards beneath her.
I press my fingers to her neck. Relief floods me. There’s a pulse.
Sluggish, but it’s there.
“Ford,” I shout, grabbing a sheet off the bed. “I need some fucking help.”
Boots rattle the floorboards. Seconds later, my brothers are on their knees beside me.
“ Fallon .” Her name tears from Wyatt’s lips. He’s pale as he lifts her into his arms. “No,” he gasps. His hands run over her body like he’s trying to find the hole and plug it.
I ball up the sheet and press it to her side, trying to stifle the spread of blood. Ford’s hands shoot out to grip it. I can’t tell how deep the cut, but it doesn’t look good.
“She’s alive,” I say, “but she needs a hospital.”
With trembling hands, Wyatt cups her face. “Fallon, wake up.” He gives her a shake. “ Wake the fuck up .”
“She’s out cold, man.” Ford’s voice is gentle as we watch our younger brother slowly lose it.
Frustration and fear build in me. I scan the cabin—smashed chair, a coil of rope, gun on the nightstand.
Where the fuck is Dakota? She’s close. I can feel it.
A sharp gasp has all of us tensing.
Fallon groans. Her eyelids flutter. “It’s about damn time you assholes got here,” she says weakly.
Relief shoots through me. She’s still talking shit, which means she’s okay. For now.
“Goddamn left my soul for a second,” Ford breathes, increasing pressure on her wound.
Wyatt chokes out a laugh. “You ain’t lookin’ too good, cowgirl.”
“No shit,” she mutters.
“Fallon,” I say, leaning down. “Do you remember what happened? Where’s Dakota?”
“She ran.” Fallon whimpers, but her lips curl in a smile. “She stabbed the asshole in the fucking heart and ran into the woods.”
Pride pushes against my chest. That’s my girl.
“Where’s Aiden?”
“He went after her.” When she looks at me, my stomach turns. Her pupils could rival the moon. “I tried to stop him, but…he stabbed me like a little bitch.”
Wyatt winces as she lets out a cry of pain.
“Fuck, it hurts.” A harsh shudder wracks her frame. She turns glassy eyes up. “It hurts, Wyatt.”
“Yeah, it does, but you got this, don’t you?” Wyatt shifts her in his arms. “You’re tough.”
“Tough,” she pants.
“The toughest.”
Her hazel eyes close. Open. “I meant it when I said I hated you.”
“I know you did,” he murmurs, a hitch in his voice. His hands shake. “Stay with me, okay? You can hate me tomorrow.”
“I…will.” Head lolling in Wyatt’s lap, she looks pleadingly at me. “He has a knife. You have to find her.”
I smooth back her hair. “I will,” I promise.
I look at my brothers. Hand Ford the keys to my truck. “Get Fallon to the hospital. Fast,” I say grimly. “I’m going after King.”