Page 87 of Barbed Wire Hearts

One of the Crows fires without warning and I scream. Dakota doesn’t even move, the bullet missing him to instead tink off the front of the cattle guard on his truck.

“Get down!” Wiley growls, shoving me down just as I see Dakota pull his gun.

More gunshots ring out around us, six of them in quick succession. And then there are no sounds at all. My ears are ringing, but I jerk upright.

“Dakota!” I shout, worried, but I realize quickly he’s still standing.

He’s staring down at the messenger where he covers his head and cowers on the ground.

“Send a message to your boss,” he growls at the messenger. “If he wants her, then he can come and take her himself.”

He kicks the messenger back with his boot, sending him sprawling. He’s panicked, and it shows. His eyes flicker over the now six dead men around him as he scrambles away, forgetting for a moment that he has a Suburban and just running off down the road. He never looks back, never remembers, just leaving the car right there where he parked it.

Dakota strolls back to the truck without a care as he holsters his revolver again.

“You didn’t shoot him?” Wiley growls. “He deserved it.”

“Never shoot the messenger when you’ve got a message to send,” Dakota says as he climbs in. “John coming?”

“Yep,” Wiley answers.

He nods. “Then we wait.”

We fall into silence, but my eyes focus on the dead bodies before us. Six of them. And Dakota isn’t fazed. Not one bit. In fact, I swear I see him smile out the corner of my eyes.

What the actual fuck?

ChapterFifty-Three

DAKOTA

John gets here faster than I expect, but I suppose when someone calls and reports that I’m probably gonna shoot someone, they send them out real quick. As the Sheriff, John handles most crime around us. He’s about the only law enforcement I trust to never be corrupted. His morals would never allow it.

Unfortunately for me, it makes him cast a harsh eye on my own actions. I clearly don’t have the same morals.

“What kind of trouble you three get yourselves into now?” he asks, shaking his head. “I ain’t seen nothin’ like this up here in a long time.”

“I told you about the death threats,” I point out, hopin’ that’s all it takes. We don’t need anyone sniffing around at Steele Mountain, not when we’ve got it covered.

John eyes me. “Yeah, I know what you said.” He gestures for me to follow him over to the Suburban where the back is now open as other officers take photos of everything. As we round the end of the car, I take in the sheer number of guns in the back. Guns, ammo, tools, handcuffs, and a folder full of information I have no doubt shows Kate. John reaches in and pulls open a duffel bag to show me the bands of cash inside. “This is gang shit, Dakota.”

I meet his eyes. “Whatcha sayin’, John?”

He lets go of the bag and crosses his arms as he levels me with his gaze. “You involved in anything illegal?”

“No,” I respond. “And you can search the ranch if it’ll make you feel better.”

John narrows his eyes before leaning around me to take in where Kate stands with Wiley and Levi, answering questions like a fucking actress. I was worried, but I shouldn’t have been. “Seems like a lot of trouble followed that woman into town, didn’t it?”

“Oh, can your superstition,” I deadpan. “It’s twenty twenty-four, John. This ain’t the time for outsider nonsense.”

John raises his brow. “So you’re telling me this folder doesn’t contain photos of that woman there?”

My eyes flicker to the folder. “I don’t know what it contains, and that’s the truth.”

John picks it up and flips it open. “Well, it does.” Photos appear of Kate out at the ranch, Kate at the coffee shop, in town. Kate back in a city, standing in line at a restaurant with someone I don’t recognize, a man. “It’s got all her information in here. Even her damn social security number and her coffee order.”

My face hardens. “What are you suggesting?”

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