The back door exploded inward. Wood slammed against the wall, rattling the frame. Two men in black rushed the kitchen, boots heavy, faces blank and wrong.
Oh, shit.
Masks. They were wearing black masks.
Instinct screamed,Move!
She ducked, knife raised, but the first man was faster. Something silver arced through the air—a stun gun, prongs glinting—and pain tore up her spine, white-hot and savage. Every muscle locked. The knife hit the floor with a useless clatter.
She tried to curse, tried to spit defiance, but her jaw wouldn’t work. Another jolt hit, doubling her over. Her legs crumpled. She hit the ground hard and tasted blood.
The last thing she saw was the black boots of her attacker, too close, and the spike of a needle heading for her neck.
Then nothing.
eighteen
“You should apologize to Jax.”
Those words had bounced around in Ghost’s head since Naomi murmured them that morning, and by afternoon, they’d wormed in so deep he couldn’t scrub them out, and that pissed him off. He didn’t owe anyone apologies. Not Jax. Not Naomi.
“If you keep pushing everybody away, you’re going to have a very lonely life.”
Yeah. Like that was news.
He was fine with being alone.
Lonely was what he deserved.
Lonely was safe.
Hadn’t he proved, over and over, that letting anyone close was just begging for trouble?
He kept telling himself that, but the words scraped in his skull all afternoon. While he took Coyote out to check the perimeter. While he avoided Boone and Jax and everyone else at the ranch. While he made a fresh pot of coffee and poured it into a white mug that felt wrong in his hand. While he checked and double-checked every system he had in place at the ranch, at Nessie’s bakery, and at Naomi’s house, which she would kill himfor if she knew about it. And while he watched that feed a little longer than usual this afternoon, hoping to get a glimpse of her.
“If you keep pushing everybody away, you’re going to have a very lonely life.”
By evening, he found himself staring out the Hub’s window at Jax’s cabin. He watched Nessie arrive home from the bakery. A short time later, Oliver came flying up the driveway from the school bus, his backpack thumping on his back, and Echo trailing behind him. Jax returned from working with the rescue dogs the ranch took in, his new hat pulled low to keep the rain out of his eyes, and disappeared inside the cabin. Smoke curled from the chimney, a thin gray ribbon against the darkening sky. Inside would be warmth, love, family…
An ache bloomed in the center of Ghost’s chest.
Cinder whined softly and bumped her head against his leg, startling him. He dropped the blind and strode over to his desk. “I’m not doing it.”
He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.
Cinder padded over to the door and sat there, staring at him with steady brown amber eyes, daring him.
“No.”
She huffed and pawed at the door.
He held her stare for a solid five seconds, refusing to budge. Cinder didn’t even blink. She just gave another pointed whine and pawed the door again, harder this time. If a dog could call a man’s bluff, she was doing it now.
He swore under his breath and yanked on his favorite jacket.
Fine. If it would get her off his back, he’d walk over there, say something civil to Jax, and be done with it. He could gut out five minutes of social bullshit. Then he could be alone again.
When he yanked open the door and stepped outside, Cinder trotted past, her feathered tail held high, swishing softly with each step.
