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Craddock gapes at me, a desperate look crossing his face. He knows I’m right. He’ll lose everything if this comes out. If he’s implicated in sex tapes, underage girls, murder. Craddock may be a crooked small-town cop, but this life is all he has.

“Prison isn’t exactly a walk in the park.” River’s voice is a taunt as he looks over Craddock. “Trust me, I know.”

Paling, Craddock bows his head and stares at the floor like he’s looking for the solution to all his troubles. His hard swallow is audible in the quiet. “So this is what? Blackmail?”

“You’re getting off easy,” I snarl. “I should rip your fucking dick off and shove it down your throat and let you bleed out.” Most preferably, with Delilah standing over him watching.

“Sounds like you’re fucked,” River offers helpfully.

“What do you want?” Craddock looks the three of us over with disdain.

“I want our parents’ cold case file.”

“Hale has it.” His chest rises and falls with desperation. He’s turned so fast it’s almost embarrassing.

“Then get it.” Warren’s gaze is stony.

“Forget Hale,” I tell Craddock. “You work for us now. You’re in our fucking pocket. Our boot is on your fat neck until we say it’s off.”

Craddock blinks rapidly, nodding, his desperate gaze ricocheting to the exit. At my nod, River empties Craddock’s gun of its bullets, then hands it over.

He takes a step toward the door, stopping when I say, “And if you so much as look in Delilah’s direction again, I won’t hesitate to cut out your eyes.”

Swallowing thickly, he gives a curt bob of his head before leaving the tasting room without a word.

“You think he’ll talk?” River’s doubtful voice cuts the silence.

“Can’t be sure.” I swing my gaze to Warren. “But he’d be a fool to. He’s got too much to lose.”

We know better than to let our guard down. But we have the upper hand now.

Let’s hope Tempest keeps it that way.

52 Delilah

“You better be in bed when I walk through that door.” Cole’s deep boom of warning rings out.

“Shit.” I drop the feed bucket and rush to the couch, tossing myself onto the pillows right before the back screen door bangs open. I try to look pathetic as Cole walks in, boots stomping over the hardwood floors.

I slam my eyes shut right as his big form steps inside the living room, fists clenched at his side.

“Delilah.”

I yawn and pretend to stretch.

Boot stomps.

“I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, darlin’. There’s a trail of feed from the back door to here.”

I crack an eye and give him my flirtiest smile. “I wanted to feed Waffle.”

“Waffle is fed. More than enough.” Smirking, he shakes his head. “She’s plumped up since she got here.”

I gasp even as a little laugh bubbles out of me. “Take it back.”

“You pull a stitch, and I will tie you to that couch.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, cowboy.”