Page 64 of Deceit & Desire

“Hey!” I barked, the word sharp and cutting.

Cody’s head jerked slightly as he glanced in my direction, but he didn’t stop.

Figures. Guys like Cody only stop when you make them.

He was quick, I’d give him that, but desperation made him sloppy.

Me, on the other hand? I wasn’t sloppy. I’d played sports all through school, and I was still athletic by nature. Plus, years of wrangling cattle, hauling hay bales, and every grueling task this ranch could throw at me had turned me into a damn workhorse. My chest burned as I pushed harder, my boots slipping slightly on the gravel, but I wasn’t going to lose him.

Cody darted toward the fence line, the uneven light making his movements jerky and hard to follow. He ducked under low-hanging branches, nearly tripping over an overturned barrel in his path. My heart skipped a beat when he jumped and cleared it easily.

I swore under my breath, shaking my head as I lost sight of him for a moment.

For a split second, I thought he might get away, but then I heard it—the sharp snap of twigs under his boots.

I swiveled toward the sound and spotted him, even closer than I’d expected.

Gotcha.

I lunged, my shoulder slamming into his side. The impact knocked the breath out of both of us as we hit the ground hard. It wasn’t clean—his elbow drove into my ribs with enough force to make me gasp, a sharp pain radiating through my chest—but I didn’t let him go.

“Get off me, man! I didn’t do nothin’!” Cody thrashed beneath me, his voice venomous and panicked, each word dripping with anger.

“Yeah, sure you didn’t,” I growled, my breath still coming in hard bursts. “That’s why you were sneaking off like a damn thief, huh?”

My grip on his shirt tightened as he bucked against me, trying to twist free.

“You’re gonna regret this,” he spat, his voice sharp and full of venom.

“I doubt that,” I muttered, adjusting my hold.

Cody bared his teeth, trying to wriggle away from me again. “Fuck you. You think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you? You ain’t shit, and I wish to fuck you’d never left Alabama.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Blackwell!” I shouted, my own voice raw. “Get over here and cuff this idiot before he tries something even dumber than he already has!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Landon jogging toward us, his hand already on his belt where his cuffs hung. Cody twisted again, his curses growing louder and more frantic, but I kept my grip tight until Landon reached us.

“Good catch, Rick,” Landon said, clapping the cuffs on Cody’s wrists with practiced efficiency. His voice was calm, but there was tension in his jaw, a tightness in his eyes. He felt it too—something about tonight wasn’t right.

“You sure you’ve got him?” I asked, my voice harsher than I intended.

“I’ve got him,” Landon said firmly, hauling Cody to his feet with a practiced yank. “Go check on Roman and Zoe.”

That was all I needed to hear. I turned and sprinted for the barn, my boots pounding against the gravel. The chilly night air burned in my lungs with each step, but I ignored it. Roman’s shouting still echoed in my ears, raw and frantic in a way I’d never heard before. Roman wasn’t the panicking type, and that he sounded freaked out scared me more than anything else.

When I pushed open the barn door, the smell hit me first—thick and musty, a mix of hay, sweat, and the faint acrid tang of Roman’s idling truck outside. The flickering light overhead cast everything in harsh, uneven shadows, distorting the scene before me into something that didn’t look real.

Roman was on his knees on the floor, cradling Zoe like a lifeline. Her hair fanned out around her head, its usual chestnut brown darkened by the dim, flickering light to look almost black against the hay-strewn boards. Her face was pale, too pale, the color of the moonlight streaming through the gaps in the barn walls. She didn’t look like she belonged in this world anymore, and the sight of her stillness hit me like a punch to the gut.

“Zoe, wake up. Please.” Roman’s voice cracked on the last word, the sound breaking me in ways I didn’t think possible. His hand trembled as he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch heartbreakingly gentle.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breathe. My brain refused to process what I was seeing. This wasn’t just trouble—this was life-changing, soul-crushing chaos.

I didn’t sign up for this kind of shit when I took this job. Jesus H. Christ.

“Roman,” I finally managed, my voice rough and barely audible.

He didn’t look up. His fingers tightened their grip on Zoe, as if letting go might make her disappear.

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