“Fuck,” Holt whispered.
Hollaroy wasn’t alone. Two goons I didn’t recognize stood sentinel on the outer edges of the illuminated area, rifles resting on their shoulders. Hollaroy was in the center, but the focus of my attention—probably Holt’s, too—was Ali standing beside him. Her father was on her other side.
I studied Ali. She looked the same as usual. Beautiful. She wore jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, and her hair was back in its usual long braid. Nothing was amiss, except how she stood tall and proud between our pack’s two sworn enemies.
What the fuck was going on here?
I said as much.
Hollaroy laughed. “You haven’t figured it out? You’re a high-falootin’ DEA agent. All the way from Cheyenne.”
“You’re making meth here on the Jenkins’ property and most likely other places in the county, then shipping it out to sell across the state.”
Hollaroy nodded. “That, and more.”
Holt was beside me, arms hanging by his sides, fingers twitching and ready to grab his service pistol if need be. We were sure as shit being threatened, but not enough to draw our weapons. Yet.
“Glad you came, Cooke. I can get this done in one go,” Hollaroy said.
“What’s that?” Holt asked, his voice deep. Clear on the night air.
“Shoot you both.”
Ali’s eyes widened and a shudder ran through her body, but she didn’t say a word.
I wasn’t fucking concerned. Being shot wasn’t a threat that scared me. But Ali, standing next to Hollaroy? That made even my wolf quake in fear.
Had she been forced to send the text? Was she here against her will? Of course she was. She wouldn’t be in on this.
“Now hold on.” Jenkins, her father, wasn’t so quiet. “Killing wolves is one thing. I didn’t sign on for murder.”
Hollaroy tipped his head back and laughed. “Doesn’t matter. It’s happening anyway. I can’t let these two arrest us. And us includes all of us. You, and your daughter, too.”
Hollaroy tipped his head and his henchmen moved from the sides and came closer, shifting their rifles from a casual spot on their shoulders toward us.
“Drop your weapons, lawmen,” Hollaroy said.
I raised my hands and slowly pulled my pistol from the holster at my hip. I tossed it to the soft grass in front of me where it landed with a thud. Holt did the same. We wouldn’t do anything that would threaten our mate.
“Ali, you all right?” I called.
I could see her throat work on a swallow as she nodded.
“Good girl. We’ll get you out of this,” I added, trying to reassure her. We might be losing our guns, but that didn’t put us in any more danger. As for Ali, no fucking way would we let her get shot. Holy shit. This was our worst nightmare coming real.
My wolf snarled, and a growl escaped. My fangs descended and I knew my eyes had changed color. I could shift and rip Hollaroy’s throat out, but not before he shot our mate.
“Easy,” Holt snarled. He said that for me, not Hollaroy.
Hollaroy laughed again, then shoved his gun at Ali. “You know what to do.”
“Fuck,” Jenkins shouted, grabbing Ali and shoving her behind him before she could take it. “No!”
Turned out, Jenkins wasn’t a total asshole. I had to respect him a tiny bit for trying to protect his daughter. But he’d gotten her into this mess in the first place, so I wasn’t adding him to my BFF list. Ever.
“It’s all right,” Ali said to her dad. “I do know what to do.”
Holt stilled.
“What?” Jenkins asked. “You can’t be serious.”
“Mr. Hollaroy is right,” Ali said. “I figured out about the meth the first week I was here. You’re not that good at hiding things, Dad. I picked the lawmen up at the Bullhorn Bar.”
Even my wolf went quiet to listen.
Ali stepped around her father.
“No!” I shouted, not wanting her anywhere near Hollaroy.
She paused, looked my way, then kept moving. She took the gun from Hollaroy, who smiled. She didn’t notice it because she was looking at us. I couldn’t read her face. It was completely neutral. No emotion whatsoever. Her hands didn’t even shake. And we were too far away to pick up her scent, whether it was laced with fear or other emotion.
“I learned what it was like to ranch in Chile and Australia. Saw all the hard, backbreaking work. Lived it there. Realized when I came back that it was going to be the same thing. Except, I found out about the meth. Sure, at first it made me mad, but then I realized how easily it could work. Why should I castrate calves when I can sit back and let the money roll in without doing a thing?”
“You can’t be serious,” Jenkins said, clearly stunned by what his daughter was saying.
“When they came to the door, I realized I had my way in. A way neither you or Mr. Hollaroy could manage. I also realized they were going to be a problem, so I took care of it.”