Page 26 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
The sound of an engine cut through the wind just as Griff crouched to pick up another photo. He straightened, turning toward the parking lot entrance as a gleaming silver truck rolled in fast.
It skidded slightly on the pavement, the tires spitting small stones before jerking to a stop.
Everett Langston climbed out before the engine finished ticking down. Late fifties, tan as leather, white teeth too perfect not to be capped. His jeans were designer, the kind with the artful distressing, and his pearl-snap shirt was fitted tight across a chest that probably saw more spray tan than bench press. His hair was dyed just dark enough to not look natural, and his belt buckle was the size of a saucer.
He looked like an aging country music star who hadn’t realized the stage lights had dimmed years ago.
Griff disliked the man on sight.
Everett slammed the door and stalked across the lot toward them, eyes locking onto the photos scattered like landmines. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he barked, voice rising over the wind.
Griff stood his ground. Lily, beside him, didn’t flinch.
“These were already here when we arrived,” she said, calm but firm.
Everett’s eyes dropped to the nearest photo. The one in Lily’s hand. His face went red as the image sank in—him and Hannah, caught with his hand in her shirt, her face tilted toward his, lips parted.
He cursed under his breath, jaw tightening as he grabbed a handful of the pictures from the ground. Another gust tore one from his grip, but he didn’t chase it.
“Son of a bitch,” Everett muttered, staring at the photo like it had just ruined his life.
Which it perhaps had.
Griff watched him carefully. Not just the anger. The panic. The calculation. The way Everett’s gaze flicked between the photos and them, already trying to figure out what came next.
Everett’s shoulders rose and fell with a few sharp breaths. Then he straightened his shirt, smoothed a hand down his chest, and forced his mouth into something that wasn’t quite a smile.
“They’re fake,” he said, voice low now, almost smooth. “Obviously fake.”
He stepped toward Lily, reaching for the photo she still held. “Let me see that.”
Lily didn’t move. Her fingers tightened around the image. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small evidence bag, sliding the photo inside without a word.
Then she crouched, started gathering the others.
While he kept watch around them, Griff followed suit, moving to intercept Everett before he could grab more. He took the ones clutched in the man’s hand, sliding them from his grip with deliberate calm. Everett didn’t fight him, but his jaw flexed hard enough to crack teeth.
“What the hell are you going to do with those?” Everett snapped. “They’re fake. This is some kind of sick prank. You think I’d be stupid enough to—”
“We’ll send them to the lab.” Griff cut in, voice even.
Everett sneered. “So some tech can waste time proving the obvious?”
Griff met his eyes. “They’ll determine if they’re fake. And they’ll check for prints.”
Everett’s nostrils flared. He glanced around the lot like he was checking for witnesses, then snapped, “I’ll see about those going to the lab.” He pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up in his hand. “Even if they’re fake, I don’t want some tech getting off on this kind of smut. It’s disgusting.” He punched in a number, muttering, “I’m calling my lawyer.”
Griff didn’t respond. Neither did Lily.
They kept working.
The wind had scattered the photos into bushes, under the edge of a parked truck, and halfway down the sidewalk. Griff moved with quiet efficiency, retrieving each one, sliding them into evidence bags. Lily worked beside him, methodical and silent.
Some of the images were more than suggestive. They weren’t just flirty or foreplay. They were graphic. Clothes pushed aside, angles caught in the grain of low light. They didn’t look posed. Didn’t look staged.
Whoever took them had been close. Or had a long lens and a purpose.
Griff slid another into a bag and glanced toward Lily. Her face was unreadable, but her grip on the bag was tight.
