Page 90 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

Suddenly, the sharp sound of sirens cuts through the air, distant at first but growing louder. I glance over my shoulder, the faint blue and red lights flashing through the trees. The police—finally.

When poacher sees them, his bravado fades as the reality of his situation sinks in. “You can’t stop this,” he spits, his voice laced with desperation now. “We’re not the only ones. There’s more of us. We own this land, one way or another.”

JT’s face twists with disgust, and he lets go, shoving the poacher back onto the ground. “You’re done. All of you.”

The sirens grow louder, police cruisers start breaking through the trees, flashlights cutting through the dark. Officers swarm the clearing, weapons drawn, and I step back, watching as they take over, cuffing the poachers and pulling them to their feet.

The relief that washes over me is sudden and overwhelming, my legs nearly buckle under the weight of it. I catch myself on a tree, my breath coming in shaky bursts as I watch the poachers being led away. It’s over. Finally over.

They’re caught. And Luke Truitt’s death… it wasn’t an accident. He wasn’t the bad guy after all.

JT stands still, his eyes following the poachers as they’re dragged toward the waiting vehicles.

“It’s over,” Hank says, walking over to us, “aside from all the questions we’re going to have to answer.” He pinches his nose. “Jesus Christ.”

“Everyone alright?” Ben asks, inspecting me for a moment.

“Define alright,” JT mumbles. “I’m alive if that counts.”

“And now these fuckers are going to rot away in prison. I’ll be sure to see to that personally,” Hank says, folding his arms over his broad chest.

I take a step closer. “JT...” I ask softly.

He doesn’t turn to look at me, just stares straight ahead, his jaw clenched tight.

“They killed him. He died because of them.”

I don’t know what to say. What can I say? The truth is brutal, raw, and cuts deeper than anything I could’ve imagined. I reach out, resting a hand gently on his arm. “You didn’t know.”

For a long moment, he says nothing. Then, finally, he nods, his voice a whisper, barely audible over the chaos around us. “But now I do.”

The flashingred and blue lights cast an eerie glow over the clearing, illuminating the tall pines and the scattering of fallen leaves. It all looks like something out of a bad dream.

The officers work quickly, their movements precise and professional, cuffing the men, reading them their rights. The poachers don’t say much now, their bravado has drained, replaced by grim resignation. One of them shoots a dark glare towards JT, but it doesn’t last long as he’s shoved into the back of a police cruiser.

Ben, Hank, JT, and I stand off to the side, watching as the nightmare we’ve been living in for the past few weeks finally starts to unravel. The truth is out. The poachers are caught. But that doesn’t mean the wounds have healed. Far from it.

The last poacher is led into the back of the squad car, and the officer in charge nods to us. “We’ll take them back to the station. You’ve done good work here.”

I manage a tight nod, but the words feel hollow. The good work we’ve done? It came at such a high cost. I can’t even bring myself to feel relieved. Not yet.

As the last of the squad cars pull away, the clearing falls into silence again, the hum of the engines fade into the distance. The four of us are left standing in the cool evening air, the weight of everything we’ve been through finally settles around us.

For a moment, none of us says anything.

The forest is still, the night sky above us dark and endless, and all I can feel is the exhaustion tugging at my bones, the ache of everything we’ve fought for finally hitting me.

I glance at Ben. He’s standing beside Hank, his expression somber but resolute. He catches my eye and gives me a small nod, as if to say,we made it through.

Then, without warning, JT turns to us, and his eyes lock onto mine. There’s something raw there, something that makes my breath catch in my throat. He doesn’t say anything, but the tension in his shoulder eases, and before I can fully process it, he steps forward, pulling me into a tight embrace.

I freeze for a moment, surprised by the suddenness of it, but then I wrap my arms around him, holding on just as tightly. His body is warm, solid, and the weight of everything seems to fade just a little.

I feel like I can breathe again.

Hank’s hand comes down on my shoulder, firm but gentle, while Ben rests a hand on JT’s back.

We stand there, all four of us, tangled in a quiet embrace that says everything words can’t. We’ve been through hell—each of us in our own way—but somehow, we’ve come out on the other side. Bruised, broken in places, but still standing with one another.

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