And he knew it now.
His hands slid gently against my rain-soaked hair.
“You know what he’s doing?”
“Yes.” My voice shook. “He wants me terrified.”
Hersh shook his head slowly.
“No.”
His eyes darkened toward Shepherd standing out near the fence.
“He wants me reckless.”
That realization hit like ice water.
Because Shepherd wasn’t targeting me anymore.
Not really.
He was trying to force Hersh into making mistakes.
Trying to pull him emotionally off balance.
Trying to weaponize love.
Shepherd slowly started walking closer through the rain.
Not fast.
Not hiding.
Just approaching the ranch like death itself had decided to come knocking.
Wolf stepped onto the porch behind us.
“Blaze.”
“I see him.”
The sheriff cursed behind us. “He’s armed.”
Of course he was.
But Hersh never looked away from Shepherd.
Neither man breaking eye contact now.
Years of hatred sitting between them in the storm.
And suddenly?—
Shepherd smiled again.
Then spoke loud enough for all of us to hear.
“She still sleeps with the light on.”
