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“Eventually, however, she would have grown tired of hiding in the stables. She would have insisted they be open with their family and friends.” Rayne reached the driveway to the main house, but she didn’t pull in. Instead, she put the van in Park and turned toward Niko. “The question is, how far would Brooke go to prevent Nat from revealing the truth?”
Removing his seat belt, Niko shoved open his door. “Let’s check out the stables first. I don’t want anyone sneaking up on us from behind. If they’re not there, we’ll work our way toward the house.”
Rayne shut off the engine and exited the van. She joined Niko as he crawled over the fence, easily dropping over the top and into the yard. They stayed away from the paddock where the horses were grazing and passed behind the barn. Then, rounding the corner, they angled across the muddy ground. Rayne kept her gaze turned toward the house. She couldn’t see any movement, but it was lunchtime. That seemed the logical place for the Orwells to be.
It wasn’t until they had reached the long, white stables that she realized she’d miscalculated.
The Orwells weren’t in the house. At least Trent wasn’t. He was currently standing in front of them with a shotgun pointed at her face.
“You’re trespassing on private property,” he warned. “Leave or die.”
* * *
If Niko had the opportunity to consider what he was about to do, he would have warned himself not to be an idiot. Getting himself killed wasn’t going to bring back Nat. But as soon as he saw the shotgun pointed at Rayne, instinct had taken over.
With a curse of fury, Niko launched forward, tackling Trent to the ground with enough force to make the man grunt in pain. At the same time he wrenched the weapon from Trent’s hands. Once he was sure the man was no longer a threat, he rose to his feet, keeping the gun pointed at his attacker, who remained sprawled on the ground.
“No, don’t shoot him,” Brooke commanded as she appeared around the corner of the stables.
“I wasn’t the one who brought a gun to the party,” Niko muttered. “Now all bets are off.”
“We’ve had trouble with thieves and Trent was just—”
“Shut it,” Niko snapped.
Brooke sucked in a shocked breath at the interruption. “How dare you?”
Niko sent her a jaundiced glare. “We spoke to Henri.”
A flicker of fear darkened Brooke’s eyes, but she stood her ground. “So?”
There was the sound of a muffled conversation and the smack of hooves against cement as a couple of trainers moved past them, leading the horses inside the stables.
“I don’t think this is a conversation you want to have with an audience,” Niko warned.
“We don’t want a conversation with you at all,” Trent growled, scrambling to his feet as his face flushed with anger. “Get the hell off our property.”
Niko kept his attention on Brooke. She was far more dangerous than her brother. “Well?”
A muscle clenched in her jaw. “Let’s go into the house.”
“No.” Niko didn’t trust the Orwells as far as he could throw them. “Let’s go in there.” He nodded toward the nearby barn. They would be close enough to the stables that he could call out for help if necessary.
“Fine.” Spinning on her heel, Brooke crossed the narrow space to shove open the sliding door.
Niko waited for both Brooke and Trent to disappear into the shadows before walking next to Rayne as they entered the barn. The place was immaculate, of course. Whatever his opinion of the Orwells, it was obvious they took great pride in their horse farm.
They were standing in the tack room, with stairs on one side that led to the upper loft and stacks of hay on the other side. A quick glance was enough to assure Niko they were alone. Standing close to Rayne, Niko watched as Trent stretched out his hand.
“Give me my gun.”
Niko made a sound of disbelief. “You’ve got to be joking.”
Brooke clicked her tongue. “What do you want, Niko?”
“The truth.” He narrowed his eyes. “Starting with your relationship with my sister.”
“She was my friend.”
