Page 181 of Menace in Vegas

He catches it with a wince and drops onto the couch, hunched forward, breathing like he’s trying not to break.

“You want to tell me what happened?” I ask, voice low, barely controlled.

I’m one wrong word away from snapping, demanding why the hell he’s been dodging me, hiding, and now bleeding in my bungalow. But I force it down.

For now.

He doesn’t meet my eyes. Just stares at the floor like it’s supposed to give him answers.

“I found him,” he says finally. “Landon.”

Every muscle in my body locks. “Tell me.”

“He was near Peyton.” His jaw clenches. “Too close. I saw red.”

“And?”

“I followed him. Cornered him in an alley behind a dive bar. Got a few hits in. So did he. Then he ran.”

I drag a hand down my face. “Jesus, Daltyn.”

“I didn’t think. I just... reacted.”

“You saw him near Peyton,” I repeat, each word slow and sharp. “And you didn’t call me?”

His head snaps up. “Would you?”

Fair.

“I got a call last night,” I say. “Burner phone. Florida area code. Voice was distorted. Said, ‘If you want your wife to stay safe... tell your friend to stop intervening.’”

Daltyn goes still.

“That threat wasn’t about me,” I continue. “He’s threatening my wife to get to you. Warning you to stay away from Peyton.”

His hands grip the towel like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. Blood seeps through the fabric, red blooming against white. “I’m not staying away from her,” he snaps.

My voice drops, steel-edged.“He’s targeting Allie to get to Peyton. Through you.”

He doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t have to. His silence tells me everything.

This wasn’t just a fight. It was a warning.

And it sure as hell won’t be the last.

But I can tell by his rigid posture and the look in his eyes, he means what he says.

He’s not going to stay away from Peyton.

Which means my wife is a target.

83

ALLISON

Blood smears Daltyn’s knuckles, soaking into the towel Connor gave him.

---