Page 102 of Hell or High Water

She placed a hand on my chest. “You…you want me?” she asked.

“Yeah, and so do most of the single men you come in contact with. But they won’t get their chance. You’re mine.”

A smile spread across her face, and a laugh bubbled out of her, and then it fell just as quickly.

“Jericho,” she said. “I can’t. They won’t let you.”

I was aware, but I was choosing to not think about that right now. “I’m going to figure that out. You don’t worry about it,” I said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Linc will send me away.”

I’d go with her if he tried.

“Come back to the cabin with me. I’ll handle that. But I swear to you that no one is keeping me from you.”

Her eyes glistened with tears. I could see that she didn’t believe me, but she wanted to. I cupped her face with both of my hands.

“I love you, Montana. You walked into my life, and in two weeks, you changed everything. Me. What I want in life. You own me.”

She sniffled, then smiled. “I love you too.”

I had known that, but, damn, hearing her say it was as magical as her pussy.

“Let’s go inside,” I told her. “I like it when you wear less clothing.”

Her laughter, in all its musical perfection, warmed my chest.

But Ransom stalking out of the house, slamming the door, interrupted the moment.

Why was he still here?Go the fuck home.

“Get in the truck. Take her to Linc’s!” he barked, heading for his truck.

If they were about to try and take her away from me again, shit was going to get ugly.

“Why?!” I shot back at him. “I swear to God, I’ll take her and leave. Walk the fuck away from it all. You tell Linc that while he’s flexing his power,” I snarled.

Ransom stopped, and I prepared for him to start lecturing and yelling at me. This might be the day I planted my fist in his face. He’d had it coming for years.

“Baskin was shot outside of a motel in Jackson. He’s dead.”

Holy fuck.

“Who? When?”

“We don’t know. The shooter was hidden. And it happened ten minutes ago.”

Montana’s hand tightened on my arm, and I looked down at her. Not sure what to expect. He was her father. A shitty one, the world’s worst. But he’d been all she had.

“Let’s go,” she said, and there wasn’t pain or sadness in her eyes. Just concern.

“Are you okay?” I asked, leaning down close to her. Wanting to block out Ransom and his presence.

She nodded. “I am fine. But he had a little girl. She just lost her dad.”

Not once did she think that she’d lost the same dad years ago by his choice. No. She was worried about the kid he’d claimed. The one he had given a home to.

My dark soul wasn’t worthy of her, but it required her to survive. I didn’t believe in salvation. But if there was some in this world, mine came in the form of Montana Carrigan.

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