Chapter 14

 

WE TOOK a turn off Wilderness Road and drove straight up into the hills. The town of Bowman was nestled close to Cumberland Gap National Historical Park, but not close enough to reap any benefits of tourists. Rockslides and landslides were prevalent, and apparently the town could be cut off at times because of those kinds of disasters. Presently, it was covered under a layer of fluffy white snow.

Driving through town, we passed huge stretches of private land. Interestingly, on one side of the four-lane road stood many houses, on the other, rolling hills, ponds, creeks running at the bottom of ravines, and huge homes. I pointed out the country club when we passed its long driveway.

“Of course that’s plowed, but not all the side streets.”

Ian chuckled.

“The rich people live over here on the right,” I said playfully, “and the poor people are all clustered on the left.”

“Yeah. It’s not the wrong side of the tracks in this town; it’s the wrong side of the road.”

I snorted out a laugh. “Okay, coming up on your left—big surprise—is Willow, and that’s the road the police station is on.”

It took only minutes to reach it, and then we were both out, stretching in the below-freezing air, tugging on our coats before we darted into the building. We encountered a long polished oak counter and two men sitting at desks on the other side.

“Good afternoon,” I called out, reaching the counter and smiling. “May I speak to the officer in charge, please?”

One of the men, the bigger of the two, got up and walked to the counter. He didn’t move particularly fast, but he wasn’t being deliberately slow either. I hated it when everything was a pissing contest and hoped that wasn’t what my day was going to turn into.

“May I help you?”

“I hope so,” I said when he put his hands on the counter. I pulled my ID wallet from the breast pocket of my coat and snapped it open for him. “I’m Deputy US Marshal Miro Jones, and this is my partner, Deputy US Marshal Ian Doyle. We have a federal warrant for Drake Ford and need him produced right now so that we can take him into custody.”

He looked stunned.

The other officer rose and joined us at the counter.

“What makes you think he’s here, Marshal?”

I read his name off the tag. “Because, Officer Breen, the chief deputy in Carter County explained that he was released to your department yesterday afternoon,” I said flatly. “Produce my witness or I’ll notify the state police and my boss will call your governor.”

Ian glowered, which was making the second guy, Gilman, edgy. I tried not to appear bored. I needed something to drink and, honestly, a nap.

“Would you wait right here, please.”

“You have ten minutes,” I informed him.

Both men walked to the far side of the room and a glass door with the police chief’s name stenciled on it, and Gilman knocked as Breen waited. Moments later, the sharply yelled order to enter was audible even from where I was. Both officers went in as Ian moved up beside me.

“Did you bring your spare, too, or only your primary?”

“For the hundredth time,” I said, turning to him. “I don’t own a secondary weapon. I only have one gun, no spare.”

His brows furrowed.

“How can you not remember that? It’s not that hard.”

“You need another gun, M. Glock has that new 42. Maybe we’ll get you one of those.”

“You pack enough firepower for both of us.”

“I—”

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

The chief of police, Edward Holley—it said so on his door—greeted us as he strode across the floor. If I had to guess, I would have thought him in his midfifties. He was tall, with brown hair graying at the temples. He was very handsome, with deep laugh lines at the corners of his hunter green eyes and creases on his forehead that probably came from scowling as much as smiling. He had a warmth about him that came through as he stopped in front of us, the curl of his lip daring me to dazzle him.

“Marshals?”

I nodded, passing him my wallet so he could check both the ID and the credentials underneath. “Badge is on my belt.”

Holley tipped his head at me. “Let’s see.”

Turning a little, I lifted my sweater and the T-shirt underneath.

“Miroslav Jones?” he asked, clearly amused, grinning at me.

“Long story.”

“Since you and your partner are not getting out of here tonight, I’ll hear it over dinner.”

“Actually,” Ian broke in, stepping up to the counter and taking my ID out of the man’s hand. “We plan to be on the road as soon as you transfer custody. Where is our witness?”

Holley squinted at us. “I don’t understand. I thought you were putting someone in our jail for the night.”

“No,” Ian said curtly. “We need you to turn over Drake Ford.”

The chief looked annoyed. “Drake Ford is at the Carter County Sheriff’s Office awaiting federal… and that’s you and… shit.” He groaned suddenly, turning to Gilman and Breen. “Get Lautner up here now, find out where Colby and Fann are, and do we know, is Kershaw getting ready to teach the self-defense class at the high school?”

“Yes, Chief,” Breen said, wincing.

“Well, get his ass back here. You, me, and Breen need to go out to the Jenner place with the marshals and fetch Drake Ford.”

The officers moved quickly, and Holley raked his fingers through his thick hair as he regarded me and Ian.

“Gentlemen—”

“Ian and Miro,” I corrected.

He smiled at me as he sighed deeply. “Three months ago, I fired Dalton Abernathy from this department because he didn’t really work for me. He worked for Franklin Jenner, who just so happens to be the richest man in this town, as well as three counties. You probably saw his land when you drove in: it was everything that ran along the hills on your right.”

“We did.”

“Well, it turned out that it was Dalton’s job to keep Drake Ford away from Franklin’s son, Cabot Jenner.”

“Oh,” I grunted. “So you think that maybe your fired officer Abernathy still has his uniform and he went with some of Jenner’s men and got them to release Ford to them.”

“I do.”

“And so what?” Ian asked irritably. “Ford is on Jenner’s land, having the shit beat out of him?”

“I hope so,” Holley said with a grimace. “I hope they didn’t just shoot him.”

My jaw dropped. I was appalled and I knew it was all over my face.

“Franklin Jenner owns a lot of land, and his mortgage company, Derby Securities, owns the notes on many of the homes in this town. No one would convict him of anything.”

“But you’re not afraid of him?” Ian asked with a smirk.

“I’m blaming it all on you two,” Holley answered before another man came charging into the building and across the floor.

Five minutes later, we were in Holley’s Dodge Durango, followed by two patrol cars, heading back the way we came, across the highway and up the hill onto the Jenner property, driving toward the house.

“Why didn’t Mr. Jenner simply go to Drake Ford’s family and tell them to keep their son away from his?”

“Drake Ford lives with his mother, but she’s hardly ever in town let alone home. They have a trailer down toward the highway that he pays the rent on by working at the supermarket as a checker every day after school.”

“He sounds like a good kid, self-sufficient,” Ian offered.

“He’s a mess and a pain in the ass, but the only trouble he ever got in suddenly started when Cabot came home from boarding school last year.”

“And what happened?”

“They met and that was it. Cabot told me the last time I was putting Drake in cuffs—running him off his father’s property—that nothing would keep him away from Drake, not even his father’s puppet.”

“Oh, you’re a puppet,” I teased.

“Apparently so,” Holley grumbled. “Let’s forget the fact that the little shit was trespassing, and that the last time they stole one of Mr. Jenner’s cars, and the time before that he caught them smoking pot in the stables.”

“That’s fantastic,” I said, chuckling.

“Oh, they should be on posters of ‘what not to let your kids do.’”

“But? I hear a but?”

He laughed softly. “The parents are both absent in all of this. Drake Ford has no one, and Cabot Jenner has a father more interested in his investment portfolio than in his own kid.”

“Where’s Cabot’s mother?”

“Rehab. Again.”

“Okay, you win. It’s fucked up.”

He turned his head to smile at me. “How old are you, Marshal?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Holley’s smile was wicked, and I liked it quite a bit. “You seem a little young to be a marshal.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m guessing what, twenty-five?”

“He’s thirty-one,” Ian broke in, his hand snaking around the right side of the front seat where I was sitting to clench on my shoulder. “Pay attention.”

What?

I pivoted in my seat to look at him. “Are you all right?”

“I would have never guessed that,” Holley said softly, returning my attention to him.

After passing through the outer gate, we continued up the long snow-covered driveway, passing a half mile of low wood fence before it turned into paved road that was freshly plowed. Coming over a low hill, we saw the house, tennis courts, stables, and a lot of expensive glittering cars dusted in white. It looked like Jenner had company.

We had left only Officer Lautner back at the station—Kershaw would meet him there—so that meant Holley, Gilman, Breen, Colby, and Fann accompanied me and Ian to the Jenner home. Not that I was worried. Ian and I could have gone alone, but Holley was afraid there would be trouble. I tried to tell him that Ian ate trouble, but he wouldn’t hear it.

As soon as we parked and got out of the car, six men came walking out the front door of the enormous two-story log cabin with a wraparound porch. They lined the porch as the final man stepped out and came down the stairs toward us. No one moved but him.

“Chief,” he addressed him. “Something you need?”

“I need Drake Ford, Mr. Jenner,” Holley said quickly. “Now.”

“He’s not here,” Jenner said, glancing at me and Ian and then back to Holley.

“Well, we need to take a look around to confirm that.”

“You don’t have a warrant to do that,” Jenner stated, stopping in front of Ian and me.

“I do.” I interrupted their exchange, stepping forward, pulling my ID out for the man. “I’m a US marshal. Drake Ford is a federal witness and as such I have the authority to search your home for him.”

“You—”

“There are exigent circumstances here, sir, as I have no idea what shape my witness is in. I suggest you step aside and let me conduct my search.”

“I need to see badges!”

I turned and lifted my sweater, and Ian moved his coat so the man could spot the silver stars on both of us. “It would be better if you simply brought him out here to us, because it’s getting late and I’m feeling hesitant to do this alone.”

“Which means,” Ian explained, taking over from me, “that you will sit out here, on your knees in handcuffs until either the state police or marshals from the field office in West Virginia respond, whoever makes it here first.”

Jenner had a fox’s face, the vulpine features made even more noticeable by a widow’s peak and the small eyes. If his son was at all pretty, he owed that to his mother.

Turning, he called to one of his men to bring up Drake.

“Up?” Ian asked.

“From the wine cellar.”

It could not have been good.

“I need to see your son as well,” I added.

“Oh no,” Jenner barked, spinning around to face me, closing the gap between us fast and shoving me backward.

Or, more precisely, trying to shove me backward. I didn’t move an iota.

“You don’t get to see my son!” Jenner shouted in my face. “I know my rights!”

“If you did,” I said casually, grabbing his wrist, twisting it up sharply so that he gasped in surprise and pain as I put him on the ground on his knees. “You would not have assaulted a federal marshal.”

“What?” Jenner choked out as Ian wrenched his other arm behind him, then took the one I held and cuffed him. “You can’t do this!”

“Oh, I can,” I informed him, noting that not one of the men who had come out of the house with Jenner rushed over to help their boss. It was probably the whole US marshal thing that held them in check. “And I will.”

“Bring both boys out now!” Ian yelled toward the house. “Or you’ll all be placed under arrest for obstruction.”

No one moved.

“That’s it,” Ian said flatly, looking up at me. “Call our boss and tell him we need the state police out here or more marshals, whoever.”

I pulled out my phone and held it to my ear.

“Franklin,” Holley uttered the richest man in town’s first name.

“Bring both boys out!” Jenner shouted at his men.

They moved, so I ended the call which I was thankful for. It was a pain in the ass when the state police got involved. Herding cats was easier than coordinating large numbers of troopers who weren’t sure who they were supposed to be listening to. Kage was good at it, but Ian had too short a fuse, and I would rather do everything myself. I had always thought directing people was easy, that being in charge was merely an opportunity to be lazy, until I actually took a stab at supervising our department baseball team. I had tried to be everyone’s friend, to be understanding of schedules and times, and practice ended up being at ten at night on a Thursday because that was the most convenient time for everyone. It was ridiculous.

Being in charge meant you were not beloved, but feared, a little, and respected a lot. That was how Kage was. He wasn’t my favorite person. I could never see myself sitting on his couch with his family. But he would get us our backup, and when he arrived—and he would arrive, bringing hell with him—everyone would be really sorry they questioned either Ian’s or my authority.

“Oh shit,” Ian groaned.

I snapped my head up, and there, being helped down the stairs, was Drake Ford. I knew it was him without asking; he was smiling even though his left eye was swollen shut because Cabot Jenner had his arm around him, leading him. So even though blood stained the collar of his T-shirt, various cuts and contusions littered his face, and he was holding his side as if in pain, he was in heaven. He beamed at the smaller boy, who was slender, graceful, and simply radiant. They were night and day, and I understood the attraction right then and there.

Drake was all tight muscles on a swimmer’s frame. He was handsome, but there was nothing extraordinary about the brown hair and brown eyes unless you counted the way he was gazing with great longing at Cabot Jenner. Dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt and the bloody T-shirt, he could have been any boy in any small town. His boyfriend was another story.

Cabot was all boneless sensual movement, with light blond hair and big green eyes framed in long, thick gold lashes. His skin was flawless; he had delicate, sharp features with a short upturned nose and small bow lips. If I was eighteen, he would have been all I wanted too.

“Come here,” I said, gesturing to them.

They moved as quickly as they could, reached me, and waited. I put my hands on Drake, checking him over. “Who hit you?”

He didn’t answer.

“My father and his men,” Cabot whispered for him, and when his eyes flicked to mine, I saw the tears in them.

“I need you to go upstairs and pack a bag,” I directed. “Everything you want to take that you can’t live without. No electronics go with us, so reset your phone, laptop, and anything else. You’re walking out of your life right this second.”

“What?” Jenner gasped from where he knelt in the dirt.

“Wait, now,” Holley said, moving up beside me, grabbing Jenner by the bicep and hauling him to his feet. “You have no call to removing Cabot from his father’s—”

“He was with Mr. Ford the night he encountered Christopher Fisher. Until Mr. Jenner is questioned, I have no way of determining what precisely was said or inferred to him by Mr. Ford. I cannot, in good conscience, leave Cabot Jenner here since he, too, is a potential secondhand witness,” I explained logically. “Also, if I were to leave the younger Mr. Jenner here, and if the men looking for Mr. Ford were to show up and appropriate him, he could be used to coerce Mr. Ford.”

“You—” Jenner began.

“Therefore,” Ian continued my train of thought, “we have no choice but to include him in the provision for Mr. Ford.”

“What?” Jenner yelled.

“We’re taking your son,” Ian translated, his focus on Cabot as he took hold of Drake’s bicep, easing him free of his boyfriend’s grip. “Go get your shit, kid. One bag only. Do it now.”

He ran.

“Wow.” Drake smiled at me with his split lip, his closed left eye, and blood-filled right. “I’ve never seen him move that fast.”

“I suspect he wants to go with you,” Ian surmised.

“I will get my son back,” Jenner promised sternly.

Stepping around in front of him, I met his gaze. “This will be the last time you see your son, sir, unless the threat against him and Mr. Ford is eliminated. I don’t think you fully grasp what you’ve done here, but removing a federal witness is a very serious crime.”

Both Jenner and Holley stared at me in confusion.

“Have you not heard of the Malloy crime family?” Ian asked.

I got an e-mail alert and stepped back so Ian could talk while I checked my phone. The message was from Kage, and he explained he would expect status in another two hours when we would report either spending the night in Bowman or leaving with Ford. After I texted him, he sent one back, agreeing with my decision to remove Cabot as well. He would have the federal protection order changed. I tried to send him back a quick thank you, but my text didn’t send. I tried e-mailing as well, but suddenly I had no connection.

“Hey,” I said to Ian. “You have Internet on your phone?”

Pulling it out, he looked at it a second. “No, I got nothing.”

“Chief?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“You have any bars on your phone?”

Holley checked, and when he lifted his head, he was scowling. “I don’t even have emergency service. My phone’s dead.”

Jenner’s phone, when we pulled it from his pocket, was in the same condition.

“Marshal!”

We all turned toward the house where one of Jenner’s men was coming down the stairs, moving fast. When he reached us, it was like his boss wasn’t there: all his focus on Ian.

“There’s no electricity in the house or anywhere on the property. All we have is the backup generator.”

“That’s not possible,” Jenner snapped quickly.

“The land line is gone as well, and we seem to have a dead zone with cell service.”

“Inside!” Ian barked out the order. “Now!”

I swatted Drake’s arm. “Run up to your boyfriend’s room, kid, and bring him downstairs to the first floor.”

He bolted, and I turned and fisted my hand in the front of Ian’s sweater.

“Right behind you,” he promised, giving me a trace of a smile before I let go and sprinted toward the house.

“Everybody inside!” Ian shouted. “Take cover now!”

Gilman was hurled backward as I ran by him, dead before he hit the ground.

How much clearer was Ian supposed to be?

Breen died beside his car, Fann died in front of it; both of them shot in the head. I shouted at Colby to run, but he was frozen where he stood. He died seconds later.

Jenner’s man who had come from the house was running beside me but went down, hit in the back. The caliber on the bullets had to be huge—the blood spray was big. After diving toward the stairs with Ian beside me, we scrambled up and onto the porch.

“If there are any guns here,” Ian yelled at the men taking cover on the porch. “You need to get them!”

A man opened his mouth to say something but dropped to the ground, sliding down the exposed log wall leaving a trail of blood on all the rounded joints.

“Shit,” Ian roared, shoving me inside the open front door and down onto the polished wooden floor. I was pinned under him, his lips against my ear. “Do not get up. I’ll go get the boys and bring them here. We gotta get out of this house.”

“But we’re safe in the house,” I argued.

“We’re so not safe in the house, M,” he assured me. “It’s gonna be torched.”

I didn’t question him, just stayed where I was as he rose and moved in a crouching run toward the kitchen.

Outside, people were shouting, and suddenly Holley and Jenner flew through the front door.

“I need these cuffs off him!” Holley yelled at me.

Clambering over to them, I used Ian’s spare key that I had on the ring with mine and got the cuffs off. Another man was hit outside the doorway, and arterial spray splattered the window when he was shot in the throat.

“What the hell is going on?” Jenner screamed, terrified and unhinged.

“You removed a federal witness,” I answered flatly as he and Holley joined me low on the floor. “When you did, you made what was invisible, visible. Orson Malloy sent a sniper and God knows who else to kill Drake Ford. This is all on you.”

Holley turned to me, his eyes frantic with fear.

“They have us pinned down, we can’t call out since they’re using some kind of jammer, we’re too far back from the road for anyone to notice anything amiss, and they’ve already cut the power and the landline.” I looked at Jenner. “Do you have guns here?”

“I have a couple of hunting rifles and a shotgun, but nothing high-powered or semiautomatic.”

“Okay,” I said as Ian and the boys ran into the room and dived down onto the floor beside us as an explosion rocked the house.

“What the hell was that?” Jenner cried out.

“That was an RPG,” Ian answered, rolling onto his back so he could talk. “You have your bag, Cabot?”

“Yessir.”

“Okay. Now I need you to grab three more, hiking packs if you have any, but if not, whatever. I need bottled water, rope, a box of matches, any pairs of snow boots in the house, the heaviest jackets and gloves you and your father have, the sharpest knife you got, a hatchet, a tarp or tent, and as many flashlights as you can find.”

“We have a flare gun.”

“I’ll take that as well as any road flares, the rifles, and all the ammunition you have.”

“Okay,” he said but didn’t move, looking to Drake.

“Drake, help him and do it as fast as you can.”

“Yessir. Let’s go,” Drake prompted Cabot.

They crawled quickly from the great room to the kitchen and then when they got there, stood up and ran.

“What are you doing?” Holley asked Ian.

He looked Holley directly in the eye, his voice dropping low. “They’re gonna come in soon, from the road because that’s the point of origin on all the fire we’re taking, and when they do, we’re dead. So the six of us are going out the back and up and over that hill.”

“You’re nuts!” Jenner yelled loudly, sounding horrified at the suggestion. “It’s a lot rougher climb than it looks, Marshal. Those hills are covered in thick brush and loose rock and streams and it’s going to be dark in another half an hour, so—”

“It beats being shot with a rocket-propelled grenade,” Holley apprised him. “These men are trying to kill us, Jenner!”

“Why don’t we hand Ford over?”

“Because at this point, Malloy’s not going to let anyone else live, even if we would ever consider that,” Ian said bluntly, taking hold of my shoulder. “I was thinking of taking the horses, trying for the road, but I think it’s too risky.”

“Agreed. The sniper, he’s good, right?”

“He’s hit everything he’s aimed at,” Ian said, meeting my gaze. “And he’s using a big-ass gun with API rounds. The hole it left in the car was an inch wide.”

“So you think we have military guys out there?”

“I dunno. So far there’s only one shooter, but either way, we’re pinned down.”

“Okay, so, out the back like you said.”

“Yeah. At least that way, the house will provide us some cover. The shooter’s out front—that’s what the trajectory tells me—and we’ve taken no fire from the woods. We have a small jump on them as far as timing, but that’s it. We need to move.”

I nodded.

He tugged me toward him. “We need to get our packs out of the chief’s car first, though. I have ammo in there.”

“We just got through talking about the deadly accuracy of the man—or woman—shooting at us,” I said flatly. “Neither one of us is going out there.”

“Miro,” he began softly. “We need the bullets.”

“We have Jenner’s rifles and our guns, but getting more ammunition for your Glock, which won’t do shit against the fuckin’ sniper, is stupid.”

“We need—”

“No,” I snarled, staring into his pale blue eyes. Funny that they had lightened during our trip, and even this, imminent death, was not darkening them. Sex had, but not this. “I will not allow you to go out there. Do you understand?”

He shrugged, giving up as the boys called from the kitchen.

“Marshal, we got most of the stuff.”

“We’re all out in five,” Ian directed.

I nodded before he scuttled away.

Lifting up on my elbows, I focused on the two men close to me. Outside, I could hear the men on the porch returning fire. “Chief? Mr. Jenner? Are you coming with us or staying here?”

“I’m with you,” Holley said, grabbing hold of my shoulder. “But are you certain this is the best course?”

“They have a grenade launcher. Maybe the rocket one is up next. They can torch the house and then we’ll fry. We need to move.”

I heard a yell from outside and then glass shattering, then watched Ian race across the room, lean out the front door for a second, and then charge back to where the boys huddled together.

“I don’t think you have any idea about the terrain you’re headed into,” Jenner said, his voice cracking. “It’s very dangerous.”

“We’ll be fine,” I placated him. “Are you coming or not?”

“Yes,” he snapped.

We all rushed across the room after Ian, and when we were in the hallway beside the kitchen, I noticed that I couldn’t hear anymore gunfire.

“Because everyone outside is dead, at least from what I could see.” Ian said frankly, shoving a heavy parka at me. “Put this on.”

It was too big—all Jenner’s coats were—but we all pulled one on, along with knit hats, scarves, and gloves. Ian kept his military boots, I kept my hiking boots, Holley was okay as well, but Jenner and Drake both changed. Cabot had on Ugg boots, but they were going to have to do. He had a heavy fur-lined parka as well.

I was a good shot with my Glock, but I was not as good a marksman with a rifle. Looking at the two hunting rifles on the table, I made a decision. “How you feel about carrying the second rifle, Chief?” I asked, glancing over at Holley.

He agreed, and I picked up the gun and passed it to him, as well as the two boxes of bullets. Ian had the other of the two Remingtons, both 700 models. Shouldering the backpack, Ian stuffed two boxes of shells in another bag before putting the rifle under his arm.

“Let’s go,” he ordered.

I put on my pack, and so did Drake. Jenner wrenched the one that Cabot was going to carry out of his son’s hands.

“It’s too heavy,” he barked, and I saw Cabot wince and cringe. Hard to miss that he’d been abused, probably for years. The shrinking recoil was a dead giveaway.

“Follow him,” I directed Cabot, gesturing to Ian, and when Jenner tried to go after his son, I grabbed his arm, holding tight, and directed Drake to watch over Cabot.

“I will,” Drake said, smiling at me and then trailing after Cabot.

Jenner wrenched his arm free but fell into line, with Holley next.

We moved silently though the house, Ian leading, me bringing up the rear, and once we were all outside, Ian ordered everyone to wait as he darted back to me.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t lose me,” he ordered. “Whatever you do.”

“I won’t.”

He grabbed the back of my neck and took a breath.

“It’s gonna be all right,” I soothed.

“Yeah, I know, just stay close.”

“Please, buddy, I’ve got your back.”

He nodded fast and then rushed to the front and led us down the back stairs from the deck and away from the house. It was dusk, the perfect time to try to escape, and I really hoped we’d be lucky. I wasn’t ready to lose Ian or have him be without me. My life was just getting started—having it end was not in my plans.

 

 

WE JOGGED until we reached the tree line and then, because there was a six-foot incline, slowed as we all scaled the snow-covered slope.

Drake held Cabot’s hand, walking in front of him, making sure he didn’t fall, and telling him, over and over, how great he was doing.

“Mr. Jenner!”

We all turned to see one of his men—who had managed to live after all—come running after us, rifle in hand. “We need to hand Drake over!”

I drew my gun and leveled it at him.

“Abernathy,” Holley snarled. “This is all your—”

“Now, Jenner!” the ex-deputy ordered, raising his weapon.

“Drop it!” I demanded.

It was like he was so focused on Jenner that he didn’t hear me, even from so close.

“Drop your weapon!” I shouted again when Abernathy didn’t obey.

The second floor of the Jenner cabin suddenly exploded into flying wood and glass and steel, and only the fact that we were a good hundred yards away saved us from getting hit with flying debris.

It was a big yes on the rocket launcher.

The blast startled Dalton Abernathy, and in his confusion, I bolted forward, grabbed the muzzle of his gun, wrenched it from his hands, and used the butt of the rifle to hit him in the face. He fell back into the snow, out cold.

The crappy rifle Abernathy was using had an attached strap, so I slung that over my shoulder. I ran past Holley to stop at the top of the slope and waited for him and Jenner to climb down ahead of me. Once they were safe, I holstered my Glock and checked around, not wanting to turn my back on any more men.

Ian stood below us in a ravine, on a fallen tree in the middle of a shallow creek. “Hurry the fuck up!” he bellowed, and I could hear the frustration and anger in his voice.

“Go!” I called out.

He turned and ran with Cabot following, then Drake, Jenner, Holley, and finally me. A succession of explosions boomed through the woods as we scrambled over loose rocks, dirt, and ice, to climb the embankment. Once we got out of the ravine, the terrain changed. There was no gradual slope and no place to simply stand. The ground underneath me was solid with no give at all, and when I punched through the frozen soil, my boots kept slipping. It was slow going as we trudged through snow that was calf deep, with no open space, just pine trees growing one on top of another.

“Why didn’t your fucking partner ask me if there are any ATV paths or—”

“Because we don’t want anything they can move fast on,” I took the time to explain. “We need to make it difficult for them to reach us.”

We went silent after that, zigzagging our way up the side of the steep hill, slogging through, the men between Ian and me grunting and puffing with exertion. I was in better shape, but my jeans were soaking wet and doing nothing for the cold.

The sun had set, and between that and the higher elevation, the temperature fell even more. When the freezing rain started, Ian stopped and had everyone huddle together as he climbed one of the trees to look down at the house from our new vantage point.

“When will the missus start missing you, Chief?” I asked Holley.

He shook his head. “Divorced.”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “What about wives or girlfriends of your people down there?”

“It’s Kershaw and Lautner back at base,” he told me. “They’ll start wondering where we are in another hour.”

“Okay,” I said gently, taking hold of his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your men.”

He covered my hand with his. “Thank you.”

“There was nothing you could have done.”

“M!” Ian said sharply.

Moving over directly under him, I peered up through the branches.

“There’s a lot of lights moving around down there.”

Meaning men with flashlights. “Shit.”

He looked down at me. “We’ve got, what, another forty minutes or so before our two hours is up and we’re supposed to check in?”

Kage. “Yeah.”

“Okay, so once we miss it and he can’t get us on either of our phones, we’ll have state troopers here in another hour.”

“Let’s say two to be safe.” I stepped back as he jumped down, landing in front of me. “And then how many will come? Like how many cars?”

“I dunno,” he huffed, and I couldn’t miss the worry on him: the crumpled brows, pursed lips, corded muscles in his neck all spoke to his concern over our present situation. “More than one, because it’ll be reported as an emergency.”

“All right, two at the least, maybe up to four.”

“And then it’ll take them another few hours to get backup out here, search chopper and everything else.”

“We’ve got the whole night up here,” I surmised. “We need to find cover.”

“Unless they have night-vision goggles and dogs, we’re okay as long as we use no light and stay quiet.”

“We have to use the flashlights or we’ll walk off the side of this hill.”

“No, we—”

“Missy Frain,” Jenner said suddenly.

I turned to him. “Sorry?”

“Missy Frain,” he repeated. “Her family has a cabin halfway down the other side. It’s right on Kingman Creek that runs through the hills.”

“Which is how far?”

“Up to the top of this and down the other side,” Jenner replied. “Three hours easily, though I can’t vouch for the state of the cabin. It’s been years since I’ve been there.”

“It’s as good a plan as any,” Ian agreed. “Cabot, did you find rope?”

“Yeah.”

“Give it to me.”

So we all had water, Ian and Holley checked the rifles—I didn’t bother with the one I was carrying—and then all tied together, with my partner leading, we continued to scale the side of the hill as light rain became a deluge.

Never had I been so cold, and when I realized the clicking noise I was hearing was actually my teeth, I started chuckling like a crazy person.

“Marshal?” Holley asked.

“Sorry,” I said cheerfully, nearly walking into a tree, branches scratching my face. “I can’t feel my feet anymore, and this rain—I feel like we should be looking out for an ark.”

I got a quick pat of encouragement as we trekked on.

Thankfully, the cabin was nowhere near as far down the other side as we were led to believe, and really, descending was so much easier than ascending that I couldn’t stop smiling. The rain let up as well, changing from a raging downpour to a shower to a drizzle and finally to a gentle fluttery snow that was actually really pretty in the sky when the moon came out from behind the clouds.

Ian was amazing. Between the moonlight and keeping the flashlight beam down at his feet, he was still able to lead us without incident to the small clearing where the Frain cabin was. Or, more correctly, to the scene of what looked like had probably been a fire.

It turned out Jenner had been really generous with his use of the word “cabin.”

Since all four walls were no longer intact, the cabin didn’t really qualify as a structure anymore, but as most of the roof was still on, it would keep some of the rain and snow off us.

Ian untied everyone one by one, and when he reached me, he stepped close, leaning into my space.

“You all right?”

“Aren’t you cold?” I croaked.

“We’ll get a fire going,” he promised.

“How?”

“We just needed to get away from those guys, and there was only one way to go.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, coughing.

“I mean, we didn’t have enough guns to repel any real numbers, and not knowing how many they had and since our first priority was to secure our witness—”

“We had to go up, I get it.”

He crowded in, his lips against my ear, the warm puffs of air down the side of my neck making me shiver. “But by now, there are probably troopers on site, and I saw no evidence of anyone coming after us. There have been no lights on the side of the hill, so I’m pretty sure we’re clear.” I opened my mouth to say something, but he fisted his hand in my jacket. “If I’m wrong and there’s guys in cold-weather gear coming up behind us with night-vision goggles and machine guns—I’ll deal with it. But I’m gonna build a fire so you don’t freeze to death.”

I smiled. “Damn nice of you.”

His grin was wide and his hand slid around the side of my neck. “Stay—”

“—right by you,” I finished for him.

“Yeah.” He clipped the word before turning around.

“This is so cra-creeepy,” Cabot stuttered, having trouble walking, as wet and cold as he was. “Can I have a gun too?”

Drake picked him up, slung him over his shoulder, and walked toward what was left of the dilapidated cottage.

Ian went first, testing the strength of the rotting boards, and once he was confident the floor wouldn’t give, we all followed him up the four steps into what had once been the great room. The stone fireplace was all that remained on one side, with the stone chimney and large pieces of what had been a roof.

“I bet this was a great little cabin,” Ian said as he gathered pieces of wood into a pile.

I got up to help, but a cramp in my right calf made me sit back down hard. Ian was there beside me, fast.

“What?” he asked.

“My muscles are clenching up. I’m fine.”

He barked at Holley and Drake to help him and then pulled the matches from his pack. Bending over, he did the blowing and cupping his hands around the flame and tried to get something going, but the wood was too wet.

“Maybe there’s some dryer wood under the debris piles,” Drake suggested.

“Not with the rain,” Holley assured him.

“I’m so cold,” Cabot whispered.

“Drake, you need to get his jacket off and get him in yours with you.”

“I can do that,” Jenner barked at Ian.

“No,” he snapped back. “I want them wrapped around each other. The temperature is dropping fast, and even though it won’t drop much below 25, we’re all wet and it’s windy and we could all get hypothermia.”

I noticed Cabot was just sort of watching Drake.

“Oh crap,” Ian grumbled, getting up and going over to Cabot. He stripped him out of his jacket and then shoved him at Drake, who grabbed Cabot and tucked him against his chest, wrapping his arms and jacket around him.

“Hold on to him,” Ian ordered, grabbing both sides of the parka and zipping them up together. “Keep him as warm as you can.”

“Absolutely,” Drake promised, leaning his head on top of Cabot’s.

“That’s disgusting,” Jenner spat. “How can you let my boy be touched by that pervert?”

“I see two kids in love, you homophobic prick,” Ian snarled. “And if you don’t want to look, go over on the other side of the cabin. Hope you don’t fuckin’ freeze to death.”

“I’m going to have your—”

“Miro,” Ian said suddenly, rounding on me. “Are the road flares in your bag?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Get them out,” he directed. He turned to Holley. “I need kindling, small branches off the trees, pull them off, like you’re making a Christmas wreath.”

“Yes,” Holley said, letting Ian know he was listening.

“Keep watch,” Ian told me before he took the stairs and left.

I found the flares in my bag and waited, listening to Cabot whimper, watching Jenner glare at the two younger men, and keeping vigil.

When Ian returned, he ignited two of the four flares and stacked the branches and the smaller pieces with the needles on top of them. It seemed like it took forever, but in reality, probably only thirty minutes, give or take. Once the branches underneath caught fire, the twigs ignited, and the flames got bigger and bigger as Ian added more and more wood.

“Road flare,” I said, clapping him on the back.

“Forgot my training for a second there,” he rumbled, his voice brittle as his eyes flicked to mine.

“Which is very human.” I sighed, leaning against him, the warmth from the fire almost orgasmic. “Holy fuck, make it bigger.”

He laughed softly as Drake and Cabot got close, thanking him over and over. They were able to unzip the parka, and Cabot sat between Drake’s legs as they faced the fire. Ian got up and he and Holley went to fetch more branches, this time taking the hatchet Drake had carried in his bag.

I was surprised at how quickly my jeans dried out as I sat cross-legged beside the fire, and between that and the water, I felt okay. Starving, but I’d live. When Ian returned, his gloves covered in sap and smelling like pine, I took his hat off and put it on the ground beside me before taking off mine and shoving it down on his head.

“What’re you doing?”

“That one’s wet and covered in crap. Wear mine until you warm up. I’ll go cut branches next time.”

“You’ll chop your hand off, I know it.”

I arched an eyebrow in warning. “Your faith in me is heartwarming.”

“Shut up.”

It was nice. The fire was really warm, and after a while, Cabot turned, curling up in Drake’s arms, and fell asleep after thanking Ian for the fire again. Drake wasn’t far behind. Jenner said he was only going to rest, but he was out as well, minutes later.

“I can feed the fire,” I insisted. “Why don’t you try and sleep a little. If I need you, I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” Ian agreed, lying down with his head in my lap. He was out in seconds.

“So,” Holley said, jolting me, which was good because I was dozing. “Tell me about being a marshal.”

“Tell me why you’re divorced?”

He smiled. “I think you can figure it out.”

I studied him.

“I really wanted to take you to dinner.”

“I’m very flattered, Chief, thank you.”

He grunted. “Though I would not have even entertained the thought had I known you were involved with your partner.”

It didn’t occur to me to deny it, to deny Ian. “It’s that obvious?”

“It wasn’t at first,” he mused, glancing at Ian with his head in my lap and my arm across his shoulder. “But once we got here, how protective he is, how gentle you are with him—it became apparent. And,” he said with a chuckle, “frankly he’s a bit too comfortable in your personal space.”

He always had been.

“You’re very well suited.”

“Thank you,” I said honestly, because I would take that observation all day long. “You should try and sleep too.”

“Thank you for saving my life, Marshal.”

“Sorry to have dragged you and your men into our mess.”

“It’s Mr. Jenner’s mess, Marshal, and everyone will know that come morning.”

When Holley, too, was asleep, I put some more wood on the fire to make sure we all stayed warm and toasty throughout the cold, dark night. I tried not to get used to having my partner sleeping on me, but I had a sneaking suspicion the damage was already done.