Page 60 of DFF: Delicate Freakin' Flower

“Yes,” the man blurted, realizing he'd just poked a bear. “If she’s near them, they’re targets. That’s what we were told. They’re not the objective, but if they get in the way…”

He didn’t finish, but then, did he really have to?

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, and my stomach sank like someone had tied a rock to it.

“They’ve got eyes on Townsend property,” Eddie repeated slowly like he was putting together a puzzle with jagged, bloodstained pieces. “Have they paid off locals as hired watchers to tell them the second she shows?”

“Do they know what I look like?” I asked when the man just stared warily at Eddie.

The man nodded once. “There's a photo and file. One team mentioned a wig but said it didn’t matter, they’d know you from other features.”

Webb exhaled sharply, and I turned to look at him. He was staring at the floor, his jaw clenched so tight I thought he might crack a molar. When he finally lifted his head, there was steel in his eyes.

“You’re telling me,” He said, slowly and deliberately, “that if Gabby even gets near my family, they’re in danger. Because of her.”

“Yes,” the man confirmed quietly. “If she’s with them, they’re fair game.”

I didn’t realize I was backing up until I bumped into the kitchen counter. The air felt thinner now. I wasn't just being hunted, Webb's family were being threatened because of me.

I looked at Webb, heart pounding. “I never meant?—”

He turned to me, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t know it was this bad. I thought it was just me.”

“Gabby—”

“I would never put your family at risk, Webb.” My voice cracked, and I hated it. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew.”

“I brought you here. This is onthem, not you.”

But I could see it. The worry and dread curling beneath his expression, even as he tried to hide it. Because now it wasn’t just us. It was everyone he cared about, and my cousin was one of those people, too.

And we were outnumbered, outwatched, and running out of places to hide.

Chapter Nineteen

Gabby

Webb and Eddie were already moving, talking in low voices as they circled around the table where the men we’d zip-tied were still unconscious or grumbling through their gags. The light from Eddie’s drone monitor painted their faces in shifting shades of blue and static white.

“We can’t keep them here,” Webb growled, running a hand through his hair. “It's too exposed, and there are too many chances someone will stumble across this place.”

“The ranch, then,” Eddie suggested. “There's more space and secure basements in a few of the buildings. Plus, no one goes out there without us knowing. And we’ve already got the backup generator if we need it if they cut the power.”

Webb nodded. “Good, we’ll move them at dawn. You drive ahead, we'll follow in the other vehicles.”

“Already checked them,” Eddie added, jerking a thumb toward the pile of weapons and gear we’d stripped from the intruders.“There's no working GPS left, no trackers, and nothing that pings or beams. Anything suspicious went straight into the bayou.”

I stood off to the side, pretending to sip coffee that had long gone cold, watching them plan. They were good at this. Scarily good. It was a reminder of what they’d done before all this—what they were trained for, how much they knew how to handle. The scariest thing was that it came as second nature to them, as neither of them had a military background.

But then, this wasn’t just tactical for them anymore, it was personal. They were planning around me—for the family and me—and that was the problem. Because the longer I stayed, the more danger I brought with me. Not just to them—but to everyone tied to them.

Webb had already been forced to ask whether his own people were in danger just for knowing me. I couldn’t let that question hang over them forever.

So, I made a decision. I’d wait until we got the men to the ranch, I’d help them settle everything, and then I’d go back to Orlando. Back to the place I should’ve dealt with myself a week ago. And I’d do the only thing I had left in my control: I’d hand myself over.

But I wasn't going to do it quietly. I’d invite Colin Maddox to meet me in a hotel—somewhere public, somewhere clean and quiet. I’d wear a wire and record every word. Because even if I didn’t walk away from that meeting, he wouldn’t either. That evidence would be enough to bury him.

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