The room went still.
Wolf’s expression darkened instantly.
“How many?” Tate demanded.
Vaughn looked toward me instead.
Still trying to provoke me.
Mistake.
“You know what cartel money buys these days?” he rasped. “Judges. Deputies. Marshals.” His smile turned ugly again. “People like her were worth a fortune alive.”
Behind me, I heard Flick suck in a sharp breath.
That did it.
I grabbed Vaughn by the front of his shirt and slammed him hard into the tavern floor.
The crack echoed through the room.
Ava flinched.
Trigger looked impressed.
Vaughn groaned in pain.
Good.
“Look at me,” I said softly.
He did.
And for the first time since walking into the tavern?—
he looked genuinely terrified.
Because I meant every word that came next.
“You ever talk about her like property again,” I said quietly, “they won’t find enough of you left to identify.”
Dead silence.
Tate rubbed one hand across his mouth slowly.
Wolf muttered, “Damn.”
Vaughn tried to laugh again, but it came out shaky now.
“You think you can protect her?”
Yes.
“You have no idea who’s coming.”
Probably true.
Didn’t matter.
