Chapter 2
Dice
I knew the storm was coming. Hell, everyone on the mountain did.
That’s why Jacob had sent me to town early, to stock up before it got bad. Being the new guy meant I still pulled grunt work, but after three months on the ranch, it didn’t feel like punishment anymore. It felt like trust.
And trust wasn’t something a man like Jacob Cardosa gave lightly.
The ranch wasn’t just cattle and fence lines. That was what the world saw. The perfectly ordinary, respectable facade. But behind the pastures and weathered barns, there was something very different happening.
It was a cover for the real work that went on here… hunting monsters who didn’t lurk in the shadows, but in plain sight. Men who bought and sold human lives. Men like Jacob Cardosa and his crew were willing to go to war to stop.
To outsiders, the ranch looked like any other spread in the Nevada mountains. To the ones who truly knew it? It was a fortress. A place where the broken could be made whole and the lost could finally be found.
These past few weeks had been proof of that.
Bear was back from Idaho, battered and bruised but alive after surviving a plane crash with Hailey, the woman he was escorting to safety.
And Briar, Jax’s girl… Hell, Briar had nearly been killed in a brutal kidnapping.
The whole place was still on edge, every man walking around with tension in his shoulders and murder in his eyes.
And it didn’t take much to see there was something brewing in the background. Something they were preparing to fight.
I wasn’t part of their inner circle yet. Not like Diesel or Flapjack. Hell, Bear barely looked at me, and I didn’t blame him. But I’d been there long enough to know what kind of family I’d stumbled into and that I wanted to be worthy of it.
The storm thickened fast, swallowing the road in white.
The wipers fought to keep up, screeching across the windshield as snowflakes hurled themselves at the glass.
I dropped the truck into four-low and crawled up the mountain, the engine growling like a pissed off beast. The last thing I wanted was to end up stuck and have the guys dig me out.
My lights cut through a wall of white, and something flickered in the distance. Too low to be another truck. My gut clenched.
I slowed, squinting through the blur of snow.
A car.
What the hell was a car doing up here in this weather?
As I crept closer, the outline came into view. A small sedan was half-buried in a drift, the storm trying to swallow it whole.
“Shit.”
I slammed the truck into park and yanked on my gloves. The icy wind hit like a fist when I opened the door. Snow relentlessly stung my face as I trudged toward the car.
When I wiped the frost from the driver’s window, the breath punched out of me.
Sara.
For a split second, I thought I was seeing things. It had been years since high school, years since I’d stood on the sidelines and watched her shine from a distance. She’d always seemed untouchable back then. Too beautiful, too far out of my league.
But the woman staring back at me now wasn’t the girl I remembered.
Her face was pale and frightened, lips trembling as she realized someone was there. And beneath that fear was something darker. Bruises life had left behind, the kind you couldn’t see unless you’d been through hell yourself.
Rage surged hot in my chest, even as the cold gnawed at my skin.
For a second, I just stood there, frozen, while snow pelted my face and the wind howled between us.
Then instinct kicked in.
Her engine was still running, a thin plume of exhaust struggling to escape through the packed snow behind the car. My gut clenched. Shit. If that tailpipe stayed blocked, she’d end up breathing in poison before she even realized it.
“Kill the engine!” I yelled, slicing my hand across my throat in a sharp motion.
For a second, she froze like she didn’t understand. Then her hands fumbled over the controls, and a moment later the low rumble cut out.
Good, I thought grimly. At least now she won’t be breathing in poison while I figure this out.
I slogged through knee-deep snow to the back of the car and crouched, shining my flashlight beneath the bumper. My gut twisted. The tailpipe was completely buried in hard-packed snow, sealed off like a plugged artery.
“Damn it,” I muttered. If she’d kept running that engine much longer, she would’ve been inhaling carbon monoxide without even knowing it.
I kicked the snow away until the metal pipe was free, my lungs burning from the cold and exertion. Then I circled back to her door. I tried to open it, but it was locked, so I pounded on the glass.
“Unlock it!” I yelled.
A shaky click answered me, and I yanked the door open.
A rush of stale, trapped heat hit me first, thick with a faint acrid edge that made my stomach twist. Then the storm air slammed into us, icy and brutal, like a wall of knives.
Sara flinched, curling in on herself. Her lips were pale, her cheeks blotchy with cold, and tears clung to her lashes.
“Come on,” I said, crouching low and reaching for her. “We need to get you into my truck.”
Her teeth chattered so hard her words broke apart. “I… I tried to dig it out. Tried to push it free, but I… I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes anymore.”
I swore under my breath. Her clothes were soaked, jeans stiff with half-frozen water, and her boots were caked with ice. She must’ve been outside far too long, fighting a battle she couldn’t win.
“Shit.” I stripped off one glove and took her hand. Her skin was like ice. “You should’ve stayed in the car.”
“I couldn’t just sit there,” she whispered, voice thick with exhaustion and frustration.
“I know,” I said, softening my tone even as anger at the situation burned through me. Not at her, never at her, but at the storm, at her fear, at the fact that she’d been out here alone. “I’ve got you now.”
Before she could protest, I slid an arm under her knees and another behind her back, lifting her easily. She was too light, her body stiff from cold and strain.
The wind howled as I carried her through the snow, taking care to keep every step deliberate and steady.
“Hang on, Sara,” I said, my voice a promise against the storm. “We’re almost out of this.”
The second I had her buckled into my truck, I slammed the door and jogged around to my side. Snow was coming down so hard now that it felt like the storm was trying to erase the whole mountain.
Sara sat stiff and silent, her hands clutched in her lap. Even with the heater blasting, she trembled like the cold had gotten inside her bones.
The tires gripped in four-low, slow but steady, and I let out a breath when her car vanished behind us in the swirling white.
“You scared the hell out of me,” I muttered, my knuckles tight on the wheel. “You could’ve…” I cut myself off. No point in saying what we both already knew. She could’ve died out there.
Her voice was barely audible over the hum of the heater. “Lucas…?”
I tried not to let the surprise that she remembered my name show. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.” The words wavered, as fragile as she looked.
“Don’t thank me yet,” I said gruffly. “We’re not out of this storm.”
The truck crawled up the mountain road, snow piling on either side like walls closing in. She stayed quiet, which I didn’t mind. She needed to rest, to feel safe, and I needed to keep us both alive.
I kept my focus locked on the narrow tracks ahead, hands steady on the wheel while my pulse hammered. Sara sat curled into herself in the passenger seat, silent except for the occasional shaky breath.
The storm pounded against the truck like it wanted to rip us off the mountain.
I knew this road like the back of my hand now.
Three months of living and working up here had taught me every bend and every rut, but even that knowledge didn’t make me cocky.
One wrong move, and we’d join her car in a snowbank.
Finally, a faint glow pierced the swirling white ahead. The ranch lights.
“Almost there,” I murmured, mostly to keep her calm. “Just a few more minutes.”
Sara didn’t speak, but her eyes followed the light, clinging to it like a lifeline.
As we pulled up, relief crashed over me hard enough to steal my breath. The main house rose out of the storm, warm light spilling from the windows, smoke curling from the chimney.
I parked near the porch and killed the engine. The sudden silence was jarring, broken only by the wind.
“Stay here a second,” I told her gently. “I’ll get the door.”
She didn’t argue, didn’t move, just sat there trembling while I rounded the hood and opened her door. The blast of cold made her flinch, and I leaned in close.
“C’mon, Sara. Let’s get you inside.”
Her hand slid into mine, icy cold, and I held it firm, steadying her as she climbed down. She swayed on her feet, and instinct took over, scooping her into my arms before she could protest.
“Lucas—” Her voice cracked on my name, equal parts surprise and exhaustion.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, my tone gruff to hide how her saying my name hit me square in the chest. “You’re freezing. Let me carry you.”
The porch steps groaned under my boots as I climbed them. The front door swung open before I reached it, spilling warm light and the familiar scent of woodsmoke into the storm.
Diesel stood there, his expression sharp. “You’re late.” His gaze shifted to the woman in my arms, and his tone softened just a hair. “Shit. Who’s this?”
“Found her stranded up the mountain,” I said. “Tailpipe was blocked. She wouldn’t have lasted long.”
Diesel’s jaw tightened. “Bring her in.”
I crossed the threshold, the warmth wrapping around us like a blanket. Sara let out a broken little sound. Relief, maybe? But I would be lying if I said I hated how she tucked her face against my chest.
“You’re safe now,” I whispered, low enough only she could hear.
For tonight, that was all that mattered.