Page 39 of Lone Star Wanted
She rushed across the room and into his arms before he could say a word. He caught her, holding her tight, burying his face in her shoulder. Her throat ached from trying to keep the tears down. She didn’t want to cry, not yet, not until she knew everything.
Behind her, she heard the quiet click of the front door locking. Kincade. Always watching the angles. Always closing the gaps.
Good.
She didn’t want anyone else walking in. Not now. Not with her brother finally here, still breathing, still standing. Still part of this fight. She held him tighter for another heartbeat, then pulled back just enough to look at him.
He winced.
Her brow furrowed. “How bad are you hurt?”
Travis gave her a tired half-smile. “Not bad. Just sore ribs. Took a hard fall off one of the bluffs trying to get clear.”
Cassidy swallowed hard. She thought of the blood at the quarry. It hadn’t just been a graze. He’d been bleeding. Alone. Hunted.
She pulled back more, scanning him quickly. He looked clean. His hair was damp, and the scent of soap clung to him. Mint and cedar. So he’d showered. Maybe tried to wash away more than just dirt.
But she still wanted to see for herself how bad the injuries were since he looked unsteady.
“How did you get here?” she asked.
“On foot, ducking behind any cover I could use.”
“On foot,” she repeated. Which meant miles and miles of walking while he’d been hurt.
“I waited in your garden shed until I was sure none of your neighbors were out and about, and then I came in through the back door,” he added.
Good. Because her neighbors might be friendly, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t have reported Travis had they seen him.
Without another word, she gently took his arm and guided him toward the couch. He didn’t argue. Just sank into the cushions with a quiet grunt, one hand bracing his side.
From the kitchen, Kincade reappeared with a tall glass of ice water. He handed it over, then raised a brow. “Want something stronger?” he asked Travis.
Travis took the water, muttered a thanks but then shook his head. “I’m good. Helped myself to something to eat and a shot of Jack when I got here.”
Cassidy sat beside him, still watching him closely. Travis set the water down and looked at them both, his expression suddenly hardening into something sharper. Steadier.
“I didn’t kill Daniel Harlan,” he said.
“I know you didn’t,” Cassidy assured him.
Travis’s eyes flicked to hers, searching for doubt. He must not have seen any, because his shoulders eased a little. But not much.
“You have any idea who did kill him?” she asked.
He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then shook his head and sat back. “No. Not yet. But I went to Daniel Harlan’s place that night he was killed. I was going to demand answers.”
Cassidy’s pulse kicked up.
“I got there just as someone was fleeing the scene,” Travis continued. “It was dark, and I didn’t see a face. But I caught a flash of something in the porch light.” He looked at both of them, eyes sharp. “It was a badge.”
Cassidy exchanged a glance with Kincade, who gave a short nod and leaned against the wall near the window. Keeping watch out front, she realized.
Travis drew in a breath and reached for the water again. “I need to go back to the beginning and tell you about the file I found,” he said. “The original Alisha case report. It mentioned a witness that was never named or called to testify. It was buried. Someone didn’t want it found. But it’s real, and it changes everything. I’ve got it hidden. No need to reveal it now, not until it’s safe.”
Kincade stepped forward. “Because whoever set you up is still out there.”
“Yeah.” Travis took a long drink, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “They’re gunning for all three of us now. So if I make one wrong move, if I pull that file and flash it around, we’re done.”
