Page 62 of Montana Justice

I realized I was crying. When had I started crying? I wiped at my cheeks with my free hand, trying to pull myself together.

“What’s wrong?” He crouched beside my chair, one hand gentle on my knee. “Talk to me, Piper.”

“It’s nothing.” The lie tasted like dirt in my mouth. “I just… I was nervous about giving you something.”

“Giving me something?”

My hand shook as I reached for the box Ray had left. The weight of it felt enormous, like holding my own death sentence. “I bought this for you. I wanted… I wanted to thank you. For everything.”

I couldn’t look at him as I held out the box. Couldn’t watch his face as he opened it, couldn’t see the pleasure in his eyes at what he thought was a gesture of affection instead of the ultimate betrayal.

“Piper.” His voice was thick with emotion. “You didn’t have to. This must have cost?—”

“Please.” I still couldn’t look at him. “Just…please.”

I heard the box open, heard his soft intake of breath. “It’s perfect. I can’t believe you spent your money on this. I’ll treasure it.”

The sincerity in his voice broke something inside me. I forced myself to look as he fastened the watch around his wrist, thesilver gleaming in the porch light. It looked good on him. Looked like something he’d chosen himself.

“Thank you,” he said, leaning in to kiss me.

I turned my head at the last second, his lips landing on my cheek instead of my mouth. If he noticed the rejection, he didn’t comment.

“I should tell you,” he said, still crouched beside me, “I have to go back to a meeting after this. Work stuff. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” The words came out too quickly. “Actually, would it be okay if I sleep in the guest room tonight? So we don’t wake Caleb when you come in?”

Something flickered across his face—hurt, maybe, or confusion. But he nodded. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

Whatever I need.I needed to not exist. I needed to have never been born, never have contaminated his life with my presence. I felt filthy, dirtied by Ray’s visit, by what I’d just done. The thought of Lachlan touching me—noble, honorable Lachlan with his friends who were more like family, with his genuine goodness—made me want to claw my own skin off.

“We should get back inside,” he said, standing. “They’ll be wondering where we are.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. As I stood, Caleb stirred against my shoulder, making soft baby sounds. Pure and innocent and untouched by the taint that ran in his mother’s veins.

I followed Lachlan back into the warmth and light of the lodge, where dessert was being served and children were getting sleepy and conversations had reached that comfortable rhythm of people who knew one another well. Back into the fairy tale I’d been foolish enough to believe might be real.

But fairy tales weren’t for people like me. They were for people who deserved good things, who didn’t carry destruction in their DNA, who could accept love without weaponizing it.

I sat back down at the table, smiled at the right moments, even managed to eat a few bites of Jada’s apple pie. But inside, I was already gone. Already running even while sitting perfectly still.

Because that’s what we Matthews did. We destroyed everything we touched.

And now, with that watch ticking on Lachlan’s wrist, I’d just delivered the killing blow to the only good thing I’d ever had.

Chapter 22

Lachlan

The cold biteof outdoor air cut through my tactical vest as I crouched behind the rusted shipping container, watching the abandoned warehouse through night vision goggles. My heart hammered against my ribs—not from fear, but from anticipation. Weeks of investigations, failed operations, and dead teenagers had led to this moment.

“Alpha team in position,” Beckett’s voice crackled through my earpiece. Through the green-tinted world of night vision, I could see his team stationed at the north entrance, shadows among shadows.

“Bravo team set,” came Hunter’s confirmation from the east side.

“Charlie team ready,” Lieutenant Morrison from state police added, his team covering the west approach.

The south belonged to the DEA’s tactical unit, six operators who’d arrived from Denver with enough firepower to take downa small army. Their team leader, Agent Kowalski, had initially balked at Warrior Security’s involvement.

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