Page 128 of The Rancher's Secret Relationship

Please, God.

Because Dantes was getting ready to strike the face of his beloved angel again.

Please.

And that was when His wisdom settled in his soul, and Flint heard himself say, “You win.”

Dantes’ arm lowered, and relief blazed through Flint as the other man whirled to face him, his face contorted with confusion and rage.

Thank You.

Because Flint knew this time that it was God, not him, who had saved Elizabeth from being hurt.

“Why the fuck do you have to say what’s obvious?” Dantes snarled, his words slurred and uneven. His bloodshot eyes struggled to focus, darting wildly between Flint and Elizabeth. His hands trembled, and he kept blinking rapidly as if trying to clear the fog of drugs clouding his mind.

Flint’s gaze shifted to Elizabeth. Her face was streaked with tears, her gray eyes wide and pleading. She looked so small, so fragile, kneeling there with blood trickling from her split lip. Their eyes met, and the world seemed to stop.

He could see the fear in her gaze, but also something else—trust. She was trusting him to get them out of this, even when he felt like he was failing her.

“You said it yourself,” Flint said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “I don’t give up. So do you truly believe I didn’t take steps to have someone kill you if you manage to kill me first?”

Dantes whitened."Damn you."He turned away from Flint, his movements violently erratic. One moment he was facing the windows. Another moment, he had his back to all of them. It was as if he was desperately searching for a way out...even though it was Flint and Elizabeth who were his prisoners.

“Are you familiar with the name STRAKH?"

Dantes swayed at Flint's question, and his hand slammed against the van's steel-plated wall for balance.

STRAKH was a powerful organization of vigilantes, and the way his angel jerked at hearing their name spoke volumes. There was only one thing the whole world knew about them, and it was that they were not to be messed with.

"Why the fuck are we talking about them?" Dantes sneered with false bravado. "They have nothing to do—"

"I just want to ask if you trust them."

“You think I’m crazy enough to answer ‘no’?" Dantes was sweating now, his face pale despite the drugs coursing through his veins. "You think I don’t know this is a fucking trap—”

“Call them,” Flint said calmly.

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because I want to make a deal with you—”

Dantes started biting his nails.

“And STRAKH will strike down whichever of us breaks it.”

“Fuck you, Har—”

“I’ll quit my job at the bureau.”

Dantes’ words died at Flint’s declaration.

“You also have my word that I won’t go after you—”

“And the people you asked to kill me if you’re dead?”

“They'll still get their paycheck, STRAKH will confirm to you that my orders have been canceled, and everyone goes home happy."

Dantes looked at him suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. “This sounds too fucking good to be true.”

---