Page 4 of Hard Rain

He hated seeing her cry.

A firm knock sounded on the door, and he lifted his gun. Careful to keep it trained on the floor.

“Move,” he ordered.

“No!” she replied.

“May? Axel? Open the fucking door right the fuck now,” a deep growling voice ordered.

“You called Whip?” He stared at her, open-mouthed.

“He’s the only one you’ll listen to.” May yanked open the door.

Hell…she wasn’t wrong.

Shit.

U.S. Marshal Whiplash Tauber stepped inside like he owned the room, all lean muscle, wild hair, bringing the outdoors with him.

When May ran from the room, ran from him, Whip did the opposite. He moved in, took the gun from his hand, and tucked it into the back of his jeans. Then the marshal snatched up a backpack from his closet and shoved his clothes and bathroom stuff into it.

“Come on,” Whip ordered.

Axel went to argue, but Whip growled. “Get the fuck up.”

Axel charged to his feet.

The next thing he knew, Whip had a grip on his arm and was dragging him down the stairs past a scared May and her new boyfriend and out the front door.

Axel yanked free the second they hit the driveway.

He stalked to the truck, jerked the passenger door open, and slammed it hard enough to rattle the windows.

He barely noticed the drive until the second turn looked familiar.

“Why here?” he asked gruffly when the truck parked in the driveway of Whip’s two-story home not far from his own.

Whip sighed, got out, and Axel followed.

The Fern, Oregon, neighborhood was quiet. Homes were spaced far apart for privacy and surrounded by trees.

“You can stay in my spare room until you figure out what you want to do with the house.”

“I don’t want any of it.” He followed Whip inside and headed straight to the spare room. Dumping his bag on the floor, he stretched out on the queen bed, his feet hanging over the edge.

“I’m sure you’ll want some of it once you’ve come to terms with things.” Whip leaned against the door jamb, arms crossed.

“How long have you known?” Anger suddenly swept through him, and he scowled at Whip.

“A few days is all, May called me last week.”

She told his partner before him.

Jesus, what a fucking mess.

“Fuck off,” he snarled.

“Nice.” Whip’s mouth pressed flat.