“Lindsey.” Simon directed her attention back. “How did you get away from your husband?”

She wanted Zander’s arms—no, no, she didn’t. She didn’t want him anymore anyway. Not if he could think that. Yet losing him…hurt far more bitterly than losing her ranch, even her life.

As her skin chilled, she wrapped her arms around her waist. She was the sole support and comforter for her own self. Why did she keep forgetting that? “No more questions.”

No more help. No more friends. And now, she had to leave. Run. Start over…again. Another strange city. Buy a different name. Find a new job.

Don’t ever try to find friends or lovers again. The future had turned dark, not from clouds on the horizon but from an engulfing blackness.

Zander wasn’t holding her anymore. He was so distant, he could have been in a whole different county. She pushed to her feet.

Her legs trembled, but she could walk. Their old tracks would lead her back to the lodge.

“Lindsey.” Simon had risen to his feet. “We need to hear the rest and figure out how to fix this.”

She couldn’t keep from looking at Zander. His face was expressionless, his eyes flat and cold, as if he’d never met her before. She wanted to kick him.

To cry.

The deadness inside her grew, a black hole sucking away all warmth. She’d move on again…to nothing. Why hadn’t she just let Ricks kill her? “No need. I’ll be gone within a half hour.”

Zander didn’t speak.

“Hey, deVries, thanks for believing in me.” She burned to say more, to scream at him, but her throat closed with sobs instead, and she walked away.

The trail down kept tripping her as her blurry eyes missed seeing logs and rocks. Eventually she realized footsteps trailed behind her. Hopes rising, she turned.

Not Zander. Logan.

“Go away.”

“Sorry, sugar. I’m walking you down.” He didn’t look as if he’d listen to reason or sentiment. In fact, he looked about as tractable as the granite mountaintop behind him.

Fine. Without speaking, she spun and kept going. At least anger burned the tears away for the moment.


“HEY, DEVRIES, THANKS for believing in me.” The bitterness in her voice was a knife to deVries’s skin. His heart.

Dammit, she’d killed her husband. Whom she’d married for money. DeVries felt as if he had blundered into a firefight. The thunder still hung in the air. He shook his head hard, trying to cast off the fucked-up shit in his skull. Forcing himself to not run after her was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

He had to get his act together first.

He realized Logan had gone with her. That was good. Should have been him. Jesus, someone better shoot him for real. Guilt twisted the blade already stuck in his chest. How could he have fucked her up like that?

He couldn’t hold back any longer; he needed to get to her. He pushed to his feet. His snow-crusted, wet jeans stuck to his skin, hindering his balance for a second. He started after her.

“You leave her alone,” Simon snapped, grabbing deVries’s arm, spinning him around. “You’ve done enough damage.”

DeVries staggered back a step.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Simon shoved him another foot.

“She got me by surprise—and I’m a fucking asshole.” Unwilling to fight, deVries caught the next blow and held.

Eyes black with fury, Simon slapped deVries’s fingers from his wrist. “She needed your support.”

The blade dug deeper into his soul. “I know. I fucked up.” Turning away, deVries unloaded the revolver and tucked it, bullets, and gear into his range bag. “I got to get down there.”

“I’ll bring Logan’s bag. Head out.”

Simon caught up to him a few minutes later on the trail. “Would you mind telling me what happened there?”

DeVries worked his jaw and forced the words out. “My wife dumped me to marry a rich dude. For his money. Hearing Lindsey did the same…”

“You don’t know that. She told us what the bastard said.”

“Simon, I think she did.” The first morning, he’d asked, “What did you do—marry for money?” and her guilt had been obvious. After stepping over a half-buried log, he ducked a snow-covered branch hanging over the trail. “But dammit, money doesn’t mean much to her.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

DeVries sucked in a breath. “I had a brain-dead moment.” From the very beginning, he’d found she didn’t care about getting rich. In fact, rather than conning him out of grocery funds, she’d tried to convince him she loved mac ‘n’ cheese. Had told him the best accommodations came with pets—like the mouse in her kitchen. She hadn’t wanted to accept a lower rent from her friend. Never asked him for anything. Hell, she had more pride than sense sometimes. “If Lindsey married the bastard for money, she had a hell of a good reason—and it probably wasn’t for her.”

“I’m pleased to see you’re not a total moron,” Simon said in a dry voice.

He deserved the reprimand. “Since the killing was self-defense, why’s she running and using a fake name?” Why was she wanted in Texas for murdering a cop?

“Let’s find out.”

“Yeah.”

The trail emerged from the forest and into the lodge clearing. DeVries headed down the winding path leading to the cabin.

They met Logan halfway there. “Here.” He tossed Lindsey’s keys to Simon—rather than deVries.

Ignoring the unspoken insult, deVries asked, “She see you take them?”

“Nope.” Logan gave him a hard look. “Your head on straight yet?”

DeVries suppressed the urge to bury his fist in the man’s gut. He’d earned Logan’s question. “Got bit by shit in the past. I fucked up.”

The muscles in Logan’s jaw eased as he shrugged. “I can’t bust you for something I’ve done myself. Thank fuck women are forgiving creatures.”

“Is she packing?” Simon asked, handing Logan his bag.

“Not yet.” A glimmer of a smile lit Logan’s eyes. “I told her if she didn’t get in the shower and warm up, I’d strip her down and put her there.”

“If you manhandled Lindsey, Becca will poison your supper,” Simon said. “And Rona will help.”

Logan chuckled. “I know. But it made a fine threat.” He led the way back to Lindsey and deVries’s cabin. “Do you want me there or not?”

DeVries considered. “She’s been running for months. You block the door—let her know that’s over. And you’ll be one more ally when she realizes she’s got to stop.” He looked at Simon. “I lead. Step in if I overlook something.”

Both men nodded agreement.

“You want a minute to apologize before we come in?” Simon asked.

He did—but he didn’t deserve it. “I fucked up in front of you; I can man up and grovel there too.”

Logan barked a laugh.

Simon used the keys to open the door and handed them to deVries.

Lindsey stood in the center of the room. Still dressed. Shivering slightly. He’d bet she turned on the shower to fool Logan and never undressed. She saw deVries and took a step back. “Get out!”

He set his range bag down. When he walked forward, the speed with which she retreated hurt his heart. God, he was an asshole.

Her back bumped into the wall. “Go away.”

“No.” He braced his palms on the logs on each side of her shoulders, trapping her and hopefully ensuring she’d listen. “Lindsey, I’m sorry. I fucked up.”

“Get—what?” Her brown eyes flickered up to his before she looked away.

“I heard the ‘married for money’ business, and my own shit buggered my mind. But”—he leaned his forehead against hers, his lips almost touching—“I know you. If you married him for money, you had a fucking good reason.”

Her breathing hitched. “You don’t think I’m a…a whore?”

God, he should be horsewhipped for giving her any cause to believe he wasn’t in her corner. “Not even close. Can you forgive me for taking a minute to get my head out of my ass?”

Tears swam in her brown eyes.

“Fuck, don’t cry.” She was going to bust his heart open.

She swiped her arm over her eyes and huffed. “You’re a sadist. You like tears.”

He kissed her damp cheek, tasting the salt. “Not this kind. Never this kind.” The tightness in his chest loosened when she let him gather her in. He molded her against him, feeling as if he’d climbed out of the fog into the sunlight. Soft and sweet. Logan was right. Thank fucking God good women were forgiving.

Unable to release her for long minutes, he cuddled her. Her breathing hitched a few times as if she held back sobs—tough Texan—and finally, he felt the stiffness ease from her small frame.

With a feeling of loss, he pulled away. Jesus, he didn’t want to do this, to drag her into reliving a nightmare. A man fought to keep his woman from unhappiness. And he couldn’t this time. He inhaled a measured breath and checked his control. “Now, let’s finish this, baby.”

She went stiff, brittle as glass. “I don’t think so.”

Stubborn little submissive. “I do.”

With a shove hard enough to knock him away, she ran, then realized Logan blocked the door. She skidded to a halt. Her eyes widened at the sight of Simon in a chair beside the small wood stove.

She spun to face deVries. “This is none of your business. I won’t talk about it.”

“Yeah, it is. Yeah, you will.” His toy bag was still on the bed, so he took out two short lengths of rope. When he walked toward her, she retreated…right into Simon.

Simon pulled her onto his lap and held her forearms out to deVries.

“No!” She struggled…halfheartedly. Her fear was obvious, but she needed help and deep down, she knew it.

“No more running, pet. That option is gone,” he said gently. With one segment of rope, he tied her wrists together and used the second length on her ankles. The ropes would drive home that escape wasn’t possible. “You’re going to let us help you.”

He scooped her up, holding her firmly. Mercilessly.

Surrounded by Doms, restrained, choices gone. Showing her subconscious had surrendered, she sagged against him. Right where he wanted her.

Cradling her gently, he sat on the low bed. “He—Victor—was going to kill you. What happened?”

Her level gaze met his. She’d lived a nightmare but wasn’t trapped in it now.

“I’ve got you, baby. Share with me.” Trust me. Please.

When she started to speak, he felt his eyes burn with tears. He’d stretched the bond between them, and yet it hadn’t broken.

“Victor took a step forward, and the boy kind of rolled into him.” She looked down at her bound wrists. “I don’t know why—trying to save me or panicking. Victor stumbled back into the crates and dropped the pistol, and it slid a little ways. I was still on the floor, and I jumped for it.”

Her hands fisted. “I grabbed the gun and rolled over. Victor lunged too, and he hit my foot and landed on me.”

Her face drained of color.


“THE GUN WENT off.” Her finger had been on the trigger, and Lindsey bit her lip at the memory, feeling the sickness return. The recoil of the pistol and the jerk of Victor’s chest had been almost simultaneous. The blood splattered on her, even her face. His body had been half on top of hers, pinning her down. She shuddered.

Zander clasped her tighter. God, she loved him.

“I—” She regulated her breathing and found a smidgen of courage when her gaze met Simon’s compassionate eyes.

“It was an accident,” she whispered, “but…even if it hadn’t been, I think I would have shot him anyway.”

“Good to know you’re not an idiot,” Zander muttered.

Her gaze went to him. “What?”

“He’d have killed you and the boy. What part of that didn’t you understand?”

“I—yes.” His matter-of-fact statement smoothed the jagged edges of guilt. “I called 9-1-1.”

“So far, so good. And?”

“I untied the boy, and we…we kind of had hysterics together. Finally the police came—well, one. He’d been in high school with me. After checking things, Craig believed us. He let me go up to the house because I…needed…to clean up.” Victor’s blood had covered her face, her clothes. She swallowed hard.

“Easy, babe. I’m here.” Her fingernails were digging into her palms. Zander uncurled her fingers and wrapped them around his.

“Okay.” She concentrated. “I was cleaning up when I heard the chief of police talking outside the bathroom window. Victor is—was—Chief Parnell’s brother. Travis had been to the shed and seen Victor’s body. He was crazy mad. Wanted to kill me—to cut me up, he said.” She felt the cold slide up her spine. “…cut her so bad that even in hell, Victor will hear her screams. I’ll see how many pieces I can chop off before she dies.”