29. Reese
Reese
“You’ve been doing this alone all these years?” I ask as Weston finishes tossing flakes of hay into the round feeder in the center of the cattle pasture. They’ve been on us since we came through the gate, and nearly half of the hay was already eaten by the time we got to the actual feeder.
When he turns toward me, there’s pain on his face, but after the argument we had this morning about him taking it easy, I decided it was easier to just let him push through and be there to offer help as he lets me.
Which, aside from driving us around, has happened a grand total of zero times.
Still, he is quite a sight to behold.
Wearing his cowboy hat, a white t-shirt that’s stretched taut over the muscles of his torso, and a pair of dark jeans, he looks absolutely gorgeous. Which has been incredibly distracting despite my intentions to keep things casual…until they aren’t.
“Not really. I have help from Kyle.”
“Sure, but you said Kyle doesn’t come out every day. What time do you get started each day?”
“It varies. Sometimes four, sometimes five.”
“Weston, that is crazy. Why don’t you hire more help?”
“If you remember, that was a conversation I was trying to have with your mom not too long ago.”
Heat flushes my cheeks. That was the morning I came down and found him at the dining room table with my mom. Shortly after that, she’d nearly collapsed. It comes rushing back to me.
For a brief moment, I’d managed to pretend we weren’t currently living in a reality where my mom was being poisoned by a guy who was pretending to date me just so he could make sure I came back to town; that way, they could use my ex-husband in a crazy murder plot.
Then, of course, we can’t forget my fake best friend, who is the sister of the lady trying to kill us.
What a crazy reality this is.
“You okay?”
I look over at Weston, surprised to see him watching me from beside the feeding ring while the cows all tear the fresh hay out. “Yeah, sorry. Lost in my thoughts.”
“I could always tell.” He grins and crosses over to me.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You get this little crease between your eyebrows.” He points to his own forehead. “It’s adorable.”
With a grin of my own, I cock my head to the side. “So you’re saying I’m adorable.”
“You’re gorgeous,” he counters. “But there is definitely an adorable streak there, too.”
My stomach flutters, heat spreading through me at his candid adoration. Weston was never afraid to tell me he thought I was pretty, but something about the way he says it now…whew.
“Careful, Cowboy, I think you’re starting to show your feelings.”
He climbs into the passenger side of the side-by-side. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m not trying to hide them.”
Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. I am in trouble here. I clear my throat. “Where to, boss?”
“The south barn. I want to check in on the retirees.”
“Retirees?”
“Horses who have been retired from ranch life.”
“Ahh, got it. Horse retirement resort coming right up.” I start to lean forward to start the engine, but his phone rings, and the piercing tone has me pausing.
“Hayes,” he answers. I can’t tell who it is or hear even a whisper of the words being spoken on the other end of the call, but Weston’s gaze darkens, and he glances over at me. “We’re on our way.”
I park beside a black SUV with heavily tinted windows. My heart hammers against my ribs, especially when I see the armed men in black suits standing on my front porch, their gazes shielded behind dark glasses.
“I thought this was just in the movies,” I whisper to Weston.
“Unfortunately not.” Weston’s hand on my lower back as we climb the steps is the only thing that keeps me moving forward.
Who are these men?
Why are they here?
Is it Brenda? Has she found us?
But even as I think that last thought, I shove it aside. If she were here, there’s absolutely zero chance Weston would be bringing me along. He would have left me with the cows and come himself.
One of the men wordlessly opens the door so we can go inside. Keeping my gaze trained on the floor, I move into my mother’s home.
Just inside, Zane, Sawyer, Garrison, and Ryker are all already waiting. Which is surprising since Sawyer and Garrison had gone to town to run Anastasia’s coffee shop in her absence.
We move further inside, and two more men come into view.
One has a clear earpiece like the men outside, though he’s not wearing dark glasses to shield a steely gaze.
The other man is also dressed in a black suit, though he’s not wearing an earpiece. When he sees us, his expression shifts, and he offers me a smile. I see right through the fake expression, though. Whatever this is—it’s not a happy visit.
“Miss Faye, it’s nice to officially meet you.” He reaches out his hand, but Weston steps forward and blocks me from taking it.
“Cut the pleasantries. Who are you, and why are you here?” he demands.
The man drops his hand. “Agent Preston Jones. I work for Richard Caldwell.”
“He’s the new Brenda,” Sawyer adds.
Agent Jones glances over at Sawyer, clearly not at all amused by the comparison. “Hardly.”
“Why are you here?” Weston demands again.
“Caldwell sent me. He wanted you to be aware that we have a location on Brenda, and we will be monitoring it for an appropriate time to take her back into custody.”
“An appropriate time?” Weston’s tone is low, and fury drips from every word. “Any particular reason you’ve decided to take your sweet time catching her?”
Agent Jones’ frustration is plain as day on his face. He very clearly doesn’t want to be here.
“Because they let her escape.” With those five words spoken by Zane, the tension in the room increases by the thousands. Each member of Weston’s team stiffens, their gazes taking on a murderous edge.
The pressure is nearly too much. As is the idea that the woman who had Weston tortured and threatened to kill us both was released on purpose.
“Didn’t you?” Zane questions.
Agent Jones doesn’t deny it. “I am here merely as a courtesy and to warn you to stay in your lane. You aren’t soldiers anymore. You’re civilians. And as such, you are not authorized to operate in any tactical fashion.”
Weston charges forward and wraps his large hand around the agent’s throat. He slams him into the wall hard enough to dent sheetrock.
The guard draws his weapon and aims it at Weston. “Let him go, or I’ll drop you where you stand,” he threatens.
The door opens, and the other armed guards come in, weapons raised. Tensions surge, and my pulse skyrockets.
Zane, Ryker, Sawyer, and Garrison all snap to attention at once, moving in closely so they can intervene should it be necessary.
Adrenaline surges through my system.
“You’re going to want to tell your men to lower their weapons,” Weston warns. “They may succeed in putting a bullet in me, but none of you will walk out of here alive if they do.”
Agent Jones’ glare never leaves Weston’s face. “Release me, and they will.”
“Nah. I rather enjoy seeing the fear in your gaze.” Weston’s expression is unrecognizable, and for a moment, I get another glimpse at the soldier he became. “Lets me know when you’re lying.”
“Put them down,” Agent Jones orders his men after a moment of hesitation.
“Now, why did you release Brenda?” Weston demands.
“I’m not answering a single question when your hand is on my throat,” he snarls back.
“That woman was responsible for the near-deaths of people very important to me. Not once…but four times. You’ll answer, or I’ll take you out right here and let the cards fall where they may. Even if it means your guys put a few new holes in me, too.”
Fear turns the blood in my veins to ice, and I start to move forward.
He can’t do this. Why does he keep tempting death?
Garrison’s hand on my arm is the only reason I stay in place.
And out of the corner of my eye, I catch Zane and Ryker exchanging glances, right before Ryker moves in closer to Weston.
They’ve got this. God, please let them have this. Please keep this from escalating.
“Get some perspective, Hayes. She’s hardly the biggest fish out there.”
“So she’s bait,” Zane says. “Release him, Cowboy.”
Weston glares at Agent Jones a moment longer, but then surprises me by following Zane’s order and releasing the man. He moves back a few steps, putting himself between Agent Jones and me.
“Good to know you have a chain that can be pulled,” Agent Jones taunts.
I move forward, remnants of Brenda’s comments about Weston being a dog on a chain surfacing. “Watch your mouth. You don’t get to come into my house and speak that way.”
Weston’s arm prevents me from moving fully around him, but Agent Jones seems almost amused by my anger. At least, if the partial grin on his face is any indication.
“You’ll excuse my poor manners. It’s difficult to keep them in check when my life is being threatened.” He turns to Zane. “Yes. Brenda is currently—as you said—bait.”
“Shouldn’t you be watching her?” Garrison asks. “If she truly is your bait, then why was she able to get her hands on Weston and Reese?”
Agent Jones grinds his teeth together. “She managed to slip past her assigned handlers. We were unaware that she was even on a cargo ship until we received Zane’s call.”
Weston shakes his head, nostrils flaring. “Fantastic. She nearly killed Reese; do you know that?”
“You have our apologies for the incon—”
“If the next word out of your mouth is inconvenience, I’m going to make you eat your own shoe,” Ryker growls.
“A member of our team nearly died,” Zane starts, “An innocent woman nearly became collateral damage, and you have the audacity to come in here and apologize for an ‘inconvenience’? Like someone whipped in and stole a parking spot rather than two human beings?” he snaps.
Agent Jones is quiet for a moment, and I can tell that he’s choosing his words carefully. Smart man. I don’t think there’s a single one of the guys who wouldn’t tear him apart if given the opportunity.