Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
He finally lowered my shirt but kept his hand wrapped around my hip. “No broken bones.”
It was more habit than argument when I murmured, “I told you it was nothing.”
“You also stood in front of three men with a shotgun and decided fear wasn’t a reason to step aside.” He turned me back toward him, his steel-gray eyes burning into mine. “Your judgment regarding nothing needs work.”
My lips pressed together, but the corners still twitched, most likely giving away how funny I found his grumbling to be.
For the first time, I was beginning to understand what my grandpa really meant when he said the Black Crowns were “good men.” They weren’t harmless, but they were good to the people they decided to protect. And now it seemed as though I was counted among those they looked after.
But I couldn’t explore how that made me feel because the crunch of tires on gravel announced the arrival of the police.
I turned as Bex’s dad stepped out of his cruiser, his familiar face a welcome sight amid the tension still crackling in the air.
He gave a short nod to the tall man beside me. “Stryker.”
The name hit me with a little jolt, and I mentally rolled my eyes at myself for mooning over a guy whose name I didn’t even know.
The two men regarded each other with wary familiarity, and I wondered how well they knew each other. Then the sheriff’s gaze landed on me, and his expression softened.
“Jacqueline.” He pulled me into a warm, fatherly hug, the kind he’d given me since I was a little girl tagging along after his daughter. “You okay?”
I nodded against his uniform shirt. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Behind me, I heard a low, rumbling growl from Stryker. Instead of being irritated, butterflies swarmed in my belly at the sound. When Bex’s dad released me, he shot Stryker a warning glare, but he just stared back, completely unfazed.
Shaking his head, the sheriff turned his attention to the track loader that didn’t belong in my barn, and then to the three men on the ground. He crossed his arms over his chest and let out a low whistle. “Been waiting a long time to catch something solid on Wade’s crew.”
Stryker looked at the blond guy on the ground with narrowed eyes. “Wade Kessler is dirty, and you didn’t let me know?”
Bex’s dad shrugged. “The shit he’s into hasn’t impacted the Black Crowns since you’ve never hired his company, and he’s smart enough not to fuck with anything you own.”
“You know I like to be aware of what’s happening in my town,” Stryker growled.
“I do.” The sheriff tapped the badge pinned to his shirt. “But I didn’t have anything solid enough to make an arrest.”
“Now you do.” Stryker jerked his chin toward the men the deputies were tugging off the ground. “But it might’ve been sooner if you had brought us in.”
The sheriff quickly explained the local theft ring while his deputies cuffed the men. They targeted equipment, trailers, ATVs, expensive tools—anything valuable that could be moved fast. They’d strip decals and tracking devices, alter serial numbers and plates, then haul everything out of the area to private buyers, using Kessler Hauling & Recovery as the perfect cover.
“Looks like they already started on the identification plates here,” Bex’s dad noted, crouching to inspect the loader. “Altered serials will slow us down, but we’ve got them on trespassing and attempted assault at the very least.”
I shivered a little, and Stryker stepped closer to me. “The charges better stick.”
“That’s Trent Kessler, Wade’s son. He’s not going to be happy.” The sheriff tipped his chin at the blond guy being loaded into the back of a squad car before warning, “Odds are he’ll push for bail, and he’ll be able to pay it.”
My shoulders slumped as I realized the danger hadn’t passed with their arrests. Stryker leaned in, his breath hot against my ear as he promised, “Nobody is gonna hurt you.”
Approval gleamed in the sheriff’s eyes, and it made me think the unspoken truce between him and the Black Crowns went even deeper than I realized. He hadn’t even asked about the man whose arm was bent at a painful angle. And Stryker never offered an explanation.
“They’re not going to scare me off this ranch, either,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest with a slight wince. “And I’m not selling to that Brogan Rourke guy. My grandpa left it to me because he knew I’d be able to make my dream come true out here on land that’s been in my family for generations.”
Judge coughed, but it almost sounded like he was trying to cover a laugh.
“What’s your dream?” Stryker asked, drawing my attention back to him.
My voice came out softer than I wanted as I explained, “I’m going to offer horse rehabilitation and boarding on part of the ranch. The zoning allows for it already, and I have plenty of acreage.”