Page 60 of The Scout

My stomach plummeted.

Matt Ralston.

His voice was too smug, his stance too relaxed for someone who had just stumbled upon an accident. No—he had been waiting.

I turned my head, heart slamming against my ribs, and spotted five other men standing behind Matt. Citadel cadets. Or at least, that’s what they looked like.

My stomach twisted.

I recognized some of them—not from the hotel where I’d met Matt, but from The Sound Barn. They had been there last night, laughing, drinking, flirting. One had even danced with me. But Matt hadn’t been there.

Had he?

My mind scrambled for a reasonable explanation, for some normal way this could all make sense. How many cadets went to The Citadel? Did they all know each other? Was it possible that this was some twisted coincidence—that the guys I had met at The Sound Barn just happened to know Matt? Just happened to be nearby when the accident happened?

I wanted to believe that.

But Ryker’s body was coiled like a predator’s, and the look in Matt’s eyes told me everything I didn’t want to admit.

Not a coincidence. Not a mistake. They had come for us.

A chill crawled up my spine, an instinctive warning that this was more than just payback for the beating Ryker had given Matt. This wasn’t about bruised egos or getting even.

They weren’t here for a fight. They were here for us.

Ryker’s hold on me didn’t waver, his body taut as a wire, every muscle locked down in controlled tension. His breathing was even, but I could feel it—the slow, deadly rage simmering beneath his skin.

Matt’s smirk widened as he took another slow step forward, his hands loose at his sides, but his posture was calculated. His friends—no, his backups—held their positions, waiting.

“You don’t look too good either, Ralston,” Ryker said, his voice low and smooth, but razor-edged. “Didn’t learn your lesson the first time?” There was blood running down the side of his face from a cut above his eye.

Matt chuckled. “Oh, I learned plenty.” His gaze slid to me, dragging over my face, my body, still pressed against Ryker’s chest. His smirk turned knowing. Filthy.

My stomach twisted.

Ryker’s arm flexed around me. “You got three seconds to back the fuck up before I put another dent in that smug face of yours.”

Matt ignored him.

“This wasn’t exactly how I planned on seeing you again, Isabel.”

I stiffened at the sound of my name coming from his mouth. It felt wrong. Dirty.

Ryker’s hand twitched against the trigger.

Matt’s voice was too smooth, too confident, laced with something ugly. His gaze dragged over me, slow and deliberate, lingering on the way my loose sweater dipped off one shoulder, the way my joggers clung to my hips.

“But I won’t complain,” Matt murmured, his smirk darkening. “I was hoping to get my hands on you eventually … maybe see just how soft you really are. Peel you out of those sweats, slow. Take my time.” His eyes gleamed as he tilted his head. “Make you beg.”

“Say her name again, and I’ll cave in your skull,” Ryker growled. “You won’t touch her. You won’t even fucking look at her. Because if you do, Ralston, I won’t just kill you. I’ll make sure you suffer first.”

Matt laughed. Actually laughed.

“You’re protective,” he mused. “But see, here’s the thing, Dane—you don’t own her.” His head tilted, the smirk returning.

The air between us went still.

A heartbeat of silence.

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