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All of a sudden, a car moves along the narrowed pathway coming straight for us.
Hope doesn’t bother making an unnecessary appearance.
I know it’s not Nero.
He wouldn’t announce himself with headlights or creep in directly behind our vehicle while we’re all standing outside.
My man is smarter than that.
Smoother.
He’ll snatch back what belongs to him without leaving a trail or so much as a trace of his presence for his enemies to follow.
Rather than move towards the tiny A-frame cabin in the distance, we wait for the car to park and the individuals to join us. The sight of two thick-necked men in leather jackets and jeans isn’t unsettling, yet the instant my eyes land on their Marshall badges I feel a knot of trepidation expand in my throat.
God, I wish Nero would’ve gotten here before them.
Slaughtering my stepfamily and taking me back home would be easy.
The fuss over losing them non-existent.
Clean up minimal.
However, having these two here complicates things to a brand. New. Level.
Nero can’t just kill them and go on his merry way.
There are huge consequences for murdering men in their position.
I know he knows that.
I just hope he doesn’t get so blinded by rage that he forgets it.
