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Panic built in my chest. Slowly. It had grown with each word Mallory Christening said, and now I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.
I could only think of one word.
Run.
I tore myself away from Brett. “I’m not giving consent. I don’t give a shit what they say.”
Mallory frowned. “Willow—”
“Do whatever you need to do. Send me the bill, but I’m not giving my DNA, and they need to get the fuck off this land. It’s private property. They no longer have permission to be here.” I swung around, blinded by my need to get away.
I started for Brett’s vehicle but stopped just as quickly because coming over the hill, red and blue lights flashing, was a caravan of cops.
The first was a black truck, one that I recognized.
I was aware in the back of my mind of the screen door opening and people coming outside, but I was locked on the first truck’s driver as he parked and got out.
Travis.
His badge hung from his neck.
His face was grim.
He was here on official business.
29
BRETT
“Who died?”
Billie was the first to ask, and her voice was hoarse. She was standing by herself now, and my God, the sight of her, facing the onslaught of law enforcement vehicles. Tiny. Petite. Those lights swallowed her whole.
But she stood there. Fierce and firm, except for a slight tremble in one of her arms.
She tucked it behind her and raised her chin, as if she could defy whatever bad news was coming.
I was punched in the gut. This woman was mine and was going to be mine for the rest of forever. She is mine.
A wave of possessiveness and protection surged up in me. I moved to her as Detective Dickhead approached. I’d been fine standing behind her earlier, but this shit was different.
He stopped just short of her and looked her over, a bleakness on his face before he blinked and it was gone. His gaze moved to Vicky, who had migrated forward. Howard now stood behind her, a hand resting on her shoulder. She covered his hand with hers. They were both there, as a unit, for Billie.
Billie knew it. She pulled in a breath like she was reaching out to them, drawing some of their strength.
My fingers curled around her arm before falling to her wrist, then sliding to her hand. She laced our fingers and moved to my side, her forehead resting against my bicep.
I still felt a slight tremble from her, and I squeezed her hand gently. She drew in another breath, her mouth moving so her lips could graze my skin.
My bicep flexed, all by itself, among other body parts. He liked that touch.
I liked that touch.
She burrowed closer to me.
“Travis?” Vicky spoke up, alarmed. “Not Lo?”
He blinked, startled. “No! God, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d jump there.” He spoke to her, but his gaze kept going to Billie.
