Page 11 of Torgash

But it's not just territorial bullshit—it's the certainty that she'd see right through his act in seconds, dissect his approach with those calculating eyes, and Diesel would never even know she played him.

"No." The word comes out sharp.

Diesel's eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn't back down. "Why not? I handle cops all the time."

"Not this one." I force my voice back to neutral. "My legal background gives me the cover to approach her officially. Keep it appropriate."

"Appropriate." Diesel's mouth curls into a knowing smirk. "Right."

I ignore him, grabbing my cut from the back of the chair. "I need to check those property records again. See what she might have found that we missed."

"And here I thought you might be heading out to watch her office." Diesel makes a show of checking his watch. "You know, for reasons of appropriateness."

I level him with a stare that's made grown orcs reconsider their life choices. Narrow eyes, set jaw, anger simmering just beneath the surface. He just laughs.

"Keep your damn phone on," I tell him, already heading for the door. "If Vargan calls back with anything else, I want to know immediately."

"You're not fooling anyone, brother," Diesel calls after me. "But your secret's safe with me."

I slam the door behind me, cutting off whatever else he might say. The midday sun hits my face as I cross to my bike, mind already mapping the fastest route to the county records office.

Because Diesel's wrong, this isn't about Nova Reyes—the woman with eyes that cut through bullshit and a stance that says she's faced down worse than me. This is about Nova Reyes, the sheriff who will either be our most valuable ally against Royce or get herself killed walking into his crosshairs alone.

And if I'm riding a little faster than necessary, gripping the handlebars a little harder than usual, it's not because I can't get her out of my head.

It's because I need to understand the enemy before she becomes something different entirely. Something more dangerous than opposition.

Something I might feel obligated to protect.

The town hall sits at Shadow Ridge's center—white columns and brick that used to mean something before Victor Hargrove made it his personal kingdom. It's been two years since his arrest, and people still avoid the place when they can. Smart move. Half the town council still jumps when his lawyer calls, and his property empire sits untouched while his appeals drag through the courts.

The town hall parking lot overflows onto Main Street. I have to park my bike across from Miller's Hardware and walk back. The town council meeting starts in twenty minutes. That should be plenty of time to get a read on what the sheriff knows about the foreclosures, maybe gauge whether she understands what she's walking into taking on Royce alone.

Then her cruiser pulls up, and every plan I had goes out the window.

Nova steps out from the driver's seat, making damn sure the town sees who's in charge. Santos exits the passenger side. They've been on a call together. Already working as partners. The thought digs under my skin.

I stay in the shadows of the oak tree, watching. She scans the parking lot—left, right, behind—before moving toward the building.

"File the incident report when we're done here," Nova says, falling into step beside him. Her voice carries in the quiet lot.

"Copy that. You still want me to follow up with the witness about that plate number?" Santos replies, matching her stride.

"Yeah. I want to know if she's sure about the make and model of the car before we contact the owner."

"Yes, ma'am." Santos reaches the door first, pulls it open, and stands aside. "After you, Sheriff."

It's nothing. A basic courtesy. Normal human behavior that shouldn't register on any level.

But my beast prowls through my chest, a low growl building that I have to physically swallow down. The sight of Santos holding that door, the casual deference, the easy way they work together—it fucking burns.

Why?

I know why, and that's the problem.

Nova pauses at the threshold, head turning slightly. Her gaze sweeps the parking lot again, almost connecting with mine before Santos says something that pulls her attention back.

Then she's gone, disappearing into the building.

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