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At the house, I climb out of the car. Under the constant cover of guards, I rush inside, needing Clay so I can ask, 'What now? Are they still taking the compound? Are they waiting? What did my dad say he wanted?'
I'm halted by Clay's voice, the sound of him so in control easing me slightly, needing that infallible assurance he is going to take care of this. He's going to get Xander back. He'll fix everything.
Within the room, I hear another voice, too. His brothers’—I can't tell which one.
I wander slowly to the closed door of Clay's office, leaning my shoulder against the wood and bating my breath. But soon, Carter and HJ appear beside me, and I glance guiltily at my feet, having been caught eavesdropping.
Carter only indicates for me to slide to the side so he can enter while HJ stands across the room, eyeing me.
"He knows you are home, Miss Harlow. No need to hide," Carter advises as he walks into the office. Even so, I tuck behind the wall until the door closes again. Then I ignore HJ's uncertain stare and press my ear to the wood.
"Good. Carter is here." Clay's voice nestles into my soul. "Iseveryoneback safely? And where they should be?"
"Yes, Boss."
"Let's get this sorted out," Clay orders. "I'll drive into the campsite alone, and Carter will bring Max, Bronson, and our men in through the flames behind Dustin's flank. Undoubtedly, he'll have the Stockyard members there, but they'll be on vehicles. You'll be on foot."
Through the flames?
A voice that I think belongs to Bronson says, "Gonna get myself a new bike on the way out. But it's all lit up in red. How do you know where our yellow brick road is?"
"The marked red isheat. Smoke, mostly," Carter confirms. "But I can get you in at this burnout site here. There is an old service road connected to it that runs around the campground. The trees were cleared for the pipes. It should have created a narrow fire break through the inferno. Not visible from above."
"Should have?" Bronson asks in a quiet, unnerving way. "Can’t have my beautiful brothers burning their faces now. We need to be sure."
"Nothing is for certain with fires, Boss." Carter’s voice carries regret. "But I've seen worse than this fire. I was a smokejumper for two decades before your father hired me. I'm confident I can get you in and out."
Bronson says, “We won’t bump into any fire-fighters out there, then? We don’t want innocent eyes around us.”
“The fire is contained,” Clay states, and his voice still catches my breath every time I hear it. “They have no need to be out there. No resources to put it out. It’s too large. State services are letting it run its course, and it’ll go out by itself come the wet season. I have all the roads blocked off. Services are at the head near homes, nowhere near the campsite.”
“He’s a clever son of a Butcher, isn’t he?” Bronson states, humour laced in his voice that doesn’t seem genuine—they are all on edge.
"And Dustin won't see you coming," Clay states, back to business, assertive and systematic. "You will enter from behind the campsite. Wait for my signal. Take the bikers out. If anything happens, if we don't come back, Aurora will organise a hunting party."
"We bring the girl!" someone states, his voice already tight and uneven with sentiment.
Me? I'm going—
"No, Max," Clay dismisses. "We don’t.”
"We can protect her,” Max grounds out. “But the girl needs to—"
"Fawn," Clay corrects smoothly. "And I saidno—"
Max cuts in. "If Dustin asks to see her, and you don't have her, he'll put a bullet straight into Xander's head."
He's right.
We can't risk it.
I can't—
I can’t risk it.
"This isn't about Fawn." Clay's foregrounding voice leaves no room for emotion. "He doesn't care about her enough to risk his own life—"
"This is about Xander!" Max snaps, and tears slide down my cheeks, followed quickly by more. They are painful now, after having shed so many over the last twenty-four hours. They leak in thick hot rivulets down my face.
