Hersh ignored all of them.
His eyes stayed locked on Vaughn.
“Who sent the sedan?”
Vaughn stayed quiet.
Hersh nodded once slowly like he expected that.
Then casually reached down?—
—and yanked the chair leg sideways hard enough to slamVaughn face-first into the floor.
The crack echoed through the tavern.
I gasped softly.
Isabel looked horrified.
Trigger looked impressed again.
“Blaze,” Ava snapped.
“What?” he asked calmly. “He slipped.”
Wolf turned away immediately because he was absolutely hiding laughter.
Tate rubbed both hands over his face.
“I’m losing control of this entire town.”
“You never had control,” Trigger pointed out helpfully.
Vaughn groaned against the floor.
Blood smeared across the wood beneath him now.
Hersh crouched beside him again.
Still calm.
Still horrifying.
“Try again.”
Vaughn spit blood toward the floor.
“You think protecting her matters?” he rasped. “You’re already too late.”
Fear stabbed through me instantly.
Hersh noticed immediately.
Always immediately.
His head turned slightly toward me.
Just enough.
