I glance at him, surprised. “Coming from you, that’s rich.”
He smirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just making sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I can handle myself,” I say, though the words feel hollow.
“Sure you can,” he mutters, his tone making it clear he doesn’t believe me.
The station comes into view, its dim light the only beacon in the darkness. But as we approach, Ridge tenses, his hand moving to the knife strapped to his belt.
“Stay behind me,” he says, his voice low.
“What is it?” I whisper, my heart pounding.
He doesn’t answer, his focus trained on the shadows near the building. Then I see it—a figure darting between the trees, too fast to be a trick of the light.
“Inside,” he orders, shoving me toward the door. “Now.”
I don’t argue, fumbling with the keys as fear claws at my chest. Ridge stays outside, his silhouette framed by the dim light, a sentry against whatever—or whoever—is out there.
When he finally joins me inside, his expression is grim. “Whoever it was, they’re gone now. But they’ll be back.”
I nod, my hands shaking as I pack up the rest of my files. “What do we do?”
“We fight,” he says simply, his voice like steel.
I meet his gaze, my chest tightening at the intensity in his eyes. “You really think we can win?”
He steps closer, his hand brushing against mine. “With you? I’d take on the whole damn world.”
Chapter Nine
Ridge
The night air is sharp, biting against my skin as I step out onto the cabin’s porch. The stars are out, blazing bright like they always do this high up the mountain, but for once, they’re not what’s got my attention.
Quinn.
She’s inside, curled up on the couch with a blanket, her laptop open as she pours over those damn constellations. Determined. Brilliant. And completely unaware of the way she’s taken over every corner of my mind.
"You’re pacing again," Zane calls from the porch steps where he’s nursing a beer. His grin is smug, and I want to wipe it off his face. "Thinking about Quinn, huh?"
"Shut it, Zane," I growl, though the words lack their usual bite.
“That didn’t take long,” my brother smirks.
“What?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. "You’re whipped, Ridge. Just admit it already."
I glare at him, but before I can snap back, the sound of boots crunching on gravel cuts through the quiet. Grady’s here, his broad frame silhouetted against the dark.
"Great," I mutter. "The last person I need advice from."
Grady climbs the steps, his eyes narrowing as he looks between me and Zane. "Came to check on my sister. What’s going on?"
"Ridge is having a crisis of the heart," Zane supplies helpfully, smirking over the top of his beer. "Your little sister has him all tied up in knots."
Grady’s jaw tightens. He folds his arms, staring me down like he’s assessing a threat. "You better not be messing with her, Ridge. She’s been through enough."
