I wrap her up, pulling her against me like I need her to breathe. “Yes, are you?”
She nods, crumpling against me.
I whisper into her hair. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
She nods against my chest, tiny shaking movements that rip me apart.
“He killed himself,” she whispers.
I tell her quietly. “Remember the neck tattoos you saw? Could they have been a jagged red sun curling around a skull?”
She cocks her head for a moment, thinking, then she nods. “Yes, that sounds right. The red … black … the circle.”
“Sol Rojo. A cartel that smuggles kids. If one of their soldiers gets caught, he doesn’t talk. He doesn’t plead. He dies with the sun-skull mark on his throat still warm.”
Her hand comes up, touches my jaw. “What now?”
Now?
Now, I do what I should’ve done the second she identified the damn camera footage.
I protect what’s mine.
And I end this.
“We call Wolfe and the Rangers,” I tell her. “And we bury every bastard sent after you.”
Her eyes widen—not with fear, but with trust.
The kind that’s stronger than any oath.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Just … just don’t leave me.”
“I’m not leaving,” I say, cupping her cheek. “Not now. Not ever.”
I grab my phone, dial Wolfe, drag the two bodies outside into the snow, trailing blood, while Arielle stays near the fire where I can see her through the cracked door. My eyes never leave her.
Not for a heartbeat.
When the call connects, I don’t bother with a greeting.
“Wolfe,” I say, voice hard as ice, “we’ve got a problem with McGregor’s cousin, Arielle. And I’m done playing defense.”
A beat.
Then Wolfe’s voice, sharp and lethal. “Give me the address. I’m on my way.” I fill him in on everything.
“Be there ASAP.” He ends the call.
Next, I dial McGregor. It goes to voicemail the first time, so I try again, get him on the fourth ring.
“Grimshaw.”
“Sorry to cut the honeymoon short, but everything’s gone to shit with Arielle.”
He inhales sharply.
“She’s alive and unharmed … with me. But they came for her, Mateo. Two members of Sol Rojo … tried to kidnap her until I put a stop to it.”