Page 101 of Down Knot Out
She shakes her head, her curls rustling over the grass. “Are you?”
I do a quick inventory of my body, cataloging the ache in my shoulder where debris struck and the burn in my lungs from the dust, but nothing that won’t heal. “I’m okay, princess. We’re both okay.”
The sound of boots crashing through undergrowth gives Blake away before he emerges. He steps through the settling dust, his face pale beneath the sawdust and his expression wild with panic.
He drops to his knees beside Quinn, his hands skimming over her arms and legs, doing the same check I had for hidden cuts or fractures that might not be immediately visible. His fingers shake as they probe gently for injuries, and his breathing comes in sharp bursts of controlled fear.
“Princess? Talk to me. Does anything hurt?”
Quinn sits up slowly, helped by Blake’s steadying hands, and brushes dirt from her dress. “I’m not hurt, Uncle Blake. Aunt Chloe saved me.”
The simple statement hits Blake like a physical blow, and his shoulders slump with relief so profound it transforms his features. He pulls Quinn into his arms, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other spreads across her back, holding her close enough to catch every breath.
More footsteps pound across the construction site, and Nathaniel appears at the edge of the destruction. He scans the scene, taking in the fallen lumber and the crater it carved out of the earth.
When he locates me still kneeling in the debris, he rushes over to us.
His hand settles on my back, fingers spread, and a tremor runs through him, the fine vibration of an Alpha whose protective instincts have been triggered beyond reason. “Are you hurt?”
“We’re fine.” I lean into his touch, drawing comfort from his solid presence. “Scared, but fine.”
His fist clenches and unclenches at his side, the only outward sign of the rage building behind his controlled expression.
Emily crouches beside one of the support beams, her weathered fingers tracing something out of my view. “This wasn’t an accident.”
She lifts a piece of metal, holding it up to catchthe afternoon light. Even from here, the clean edge where the beam was cut stands out.
Nathaniel spits a curse under his breath, his usual professional composure cracking as he stares at the evidence in Emily’s hands.
Blake’s jaw tightens, and his grip on Quinn shifts from comforting to protective. “Someone cut through the supports.”
“But not all the way,” Emily corrects, rising to her feet with the severed beam still in her hands. “This was calculated. They understood exactly how much to weaken the supports to allow the weight to do the rest.”
This wasn’t random vandalism or opportunistic theft. Someone studied the construction site, learned its vulnerabilities, and planned this destruction.
Nathaniel’s hand moves from my back to cup my shoulder, his thumb brushing the spot where debris struck me. “This wasn’t meant to just damage one of the cabins. It was meant to hurt someone.”
“We didn’t have security cameras positioned up here.” Emily stands, the broken piece of support clenched in her hand. “There’s no way to know who did this.”
“I want them found.” Rage vibrates throughNathaniel. “And god help them if I get to them first.”
Blake reaches out, yanking me into his arms alongside Quinn. My cheek presses into her hair as my body starts shaking. Whoever has been sabotaging their worksite almost killed Quinn.
And they’re escalating.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dominic
Aknock breaks the quiet in my office, and I raise my head from the map of the Phase One cabins. “Come in!”
Kyle comes up the stairs from the garage below, a large, brown box balanced in his arms. “Got the delivery you've been waiting for, Dom. Came in the morning mail.”
I toss my pen down, and it clicks softly against one of many empty coffee mugs littering my desk. “Fantastic.”
I stand to take the package from him and verify the return address lists a textile company in Maine. The weight of the box brings a satisfied rumble from my chest. I was worried about ordering it online without being able to hold it first, but this is a good sign that the reviews were right.
Striding back to my desk, I set it on top of a stack of permits and slice a letter opener through the tape. “Everything all right on the water today?”
