Page 78 of Without Fail

Maybe the answer was staring him in the face. When he gazed at Hailey, she walked over and took both of his hands. They had been okay once, maybe they could be again. He noted the tight strain on her lovely face and suspected that she was being coerced.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his name thundered through the room.

“Ryker.”

Shock turned his insides to stone at the sound of Marshal growling his name from the doorway and he yanked his hands from Hailey’s grip.

“Who let him in here?” Harold snapped.

“Sorry, sir.” one of the guards mumbled as Marshal—wearing a black cowboy hat and looking all-powerful—stalked through the door of Harold Baldwin’s study.

The asshole could have been a model for the cover of Western Horseman.

“You don’t have to marry Hailey,” Marshal told him, stopping several feet from approaching when Brandon’s arm snapped out.

“Back the fuck off.” Brandon’s words carried menace, and a muscle ticked in Marshal’s jaw before the man leveled those piercing blue eyes on him from beneath the brim of his hat.

Ryker glared at Marshal even though he wanted to burst into tears.

Marshal had betrayed him and now what?

Wanted to show up eleven days later?

Wanted to help him?

Fat fucking chance of that.

“Ryker, we are your only way out of this,” Harold said, cutting in and then turning on Marshal. “And you stay the hell out of our business. You’re nothing but a hired gun who turned on a family that took you in.”

“Get out of my way,” Marshal growled, the tone so low that it sounded all the more lethal.

“Do you know who I am?” Hailey’s brother snarled, getting in Marshal’s face.

“You’re the guy with a broken jaw if you don’t shut your fucking mouth,” Marshal growled.

Harold’s throat bobbed with a hard swallow, and Ryker fought back hysterical laugher, but it bubbled to the surface for a split second. The sound rang loudly in the room.

“Ryker…come with me.”

He stared at Marshal through burning eyes. “Why should I?”

“I can keep you safe.”

“Everything out of your mouth is a fucking lie.”

“Please, baby.”

Ryker felt bile rise in his throat. “You have some fucking nerve.”

“You heard him,” Harold cut in. “Get out, you’re not wanted here.”

Things happened almost too fast for Ryker to process.

Marshal’s fist connected to Harold’s face and when the man dropped to the ground, Brandon charged forward.

Marshal took out Brandon’s feet from beneath him and the bodyguard hit the floor hard. Stalking toward him, Marshal was a force and Ryker backed up against the wall.

Not that he was scared.

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