Page 48 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

Coy burst into laughter. “Then why the hard time?”

“I don’t know. Testing him, maybe? Make sure he knows around here he’s just one of us and not above us.”

“A hazing. You were hazing the President of the United States.”

“More or less. Look, Dillon’s happy. Happier than I’ve ever known her to be. He’s good for her, and she’s good for him. Thought I’d break him in a little since they’ll be spending more time around here once his term is up.”

“Ah, so you’re doing him a favor.”

“No one in Coyote Creek is ever going to roll out the red carpet for him. They’re going to expect him to show up for branding season just like the rest of the town, even if he’s followed by all that muscle everywhere he goes.”

“That’s true. I guess that’s the beauty of this place. Everyone is treated equally and with respect so long as you do the same. Makes life easier here.”

“You thinking of coming back, too?”

“I don’t know. Hadn’t really thought about it. The branch of my company that I’m working for, Safe Haven, is headquartered in a little mountain town off the beaten path, hidden in plain sight –– for a reason –– but each case takes me somewhere else, so I could land just about anywhere and still do the job. The road’s pretty much been home for me, though.”

“So, sticking to the road?” She pulled her hand away, realizing they were still in each other's grip.

“Probably. Until I have a reason to settle somewhere, I guess.” He paused, tapping on the armrest on his car door. “I’m here for now, though, settling Mama’s estate with the others, which shouldn’t be too difficult, and making sure the ranch is fine. Got a new little one joining the family soon, may as well stick around for that.”

“So here we are. Back where we started.” She tossed her hands in the air and slouched in her seat.

“Before different branches of military broke us up all those years ago and the world swallowed us whole.”

She looked at him. “A broken mess. Together.”

“Yeah.” Coy looked out his window and something, or rather, someone, caught his attention. “Kenz?”

“Hmm?” His suddenly stern tone caught her attention, and she followed his stare.

“I think I know what you mean by how those guys dress.” Coy pointed in the direction of the local bar where a couple of well-dressed men were entering, along with a few who were better at blending in.

She grabbed her camera while he grabbed his phone and each began snapping pictures.

“Told you they stood out and today was the day. Those are the guys we’ve been waiting on.”

Coy’s phone began to ring. “Damn it. It’s Cut.”

“It’s okay, I’m gettin’ them. Answer it.”

Coy tapped his screen and answered on speakerphone. “Yeah? This better be good.”

Cut’s voice was filled with something that sounded like anger and equally fear. “Coy… You better get here quick. Bring Kenzie.”

* * *

A trail of blood surrounding Devyn’s car immediately caught Coy’s attention as he stepped out of Kenzie’s vehicle, then the bullet holes in her windshield and one lodged in the side of the vehicle. Coy pulled that bullet casing from the fender of the car and studied it.

“What the hell happened here?” Kenzie asked, standing at his side. She looked inside the vehicle. “There’s blood everywhere.”

Coy rushed up the steps to the house and through the front door to find only what could be described as organized chaos –– and his worst nightmare. Something had found him again. Came for his family. A past that wouldn’t stay dead. A past that wouldn’t stop chasing him until he submitted to it or… he was dead.

Nora was lying on the couch with Cut at her side trying to comfort her despite the seething glares he was directing at Nash. Cut was worried. It was written all over his face. They all were.

Some rowdy children could be heard in the distance, obviously sent off somewhere away from the blood bath that was their family's living room and kitchen. Devyn frantically paced between the two rooms, covered in blood, while Dillon leaned against the kitchen counter and watched her sister pace –– her expression etched in worry.

Near the kitchen table, Nash handed Ransom first aid supplies as he tended to the bleeding individual seated there, creating a makeshift triage setup. Coy wasn’t sure where to start or what to say, torn between the two open spaces his family filled. When Ransom turned to look over his shoulder, he revealed the bloodied victim was one of his agents who sat, shirt cut off of him, sweat beaded at his brow, and his jaw so tight you could nearly feel the pain it represented.

“Start talking,” Coy said coolly to whoever was listening. But no one spoke. They all wore looks of shock and horror as if waiting for someone else to answer. They were speechless.

“That’s a lot of fucking blood,” Kenzie said, reaching for her phone. “I’m calling this in. We need an ambulance, and?—”

“Put your phone away,” Ransom said calmly. “No need. We got this.”

“I’m only asking one more time. What. The hell. Happened here?” Coy seethed through gritted teeth.

“We were sh-shot at,” Devyn stammered. “Someone tried to k-kill us.”

* * *

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