by Wylder Stone
Vengeance On the Run
On the Run Series, Book 3
Wylder Stone
Contents
Read Wylder Stone
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Author Biography
More from Wylder Stone
COPYRIGHT © 2021
Wylder Stone
Vengeance On the Run
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, or other status is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever known, not known or hereafter invented, or stored in any storage or retrieval system, is forbidden and punishable by the fullest extent of the law without written permission of the author.
EDITOR: Jenny Sims
COVER ARTIST: 5 Pines Publishing
FORMATTING: 5 Pines Publishing
Read Wylder Stone
On the Run Series
* * *
Witness On the Run
Exposed on the Run
Vengeance on the Run
Danger on the Run
Deception on the Run
Stranger on the Run
Reckless on the Run
Hostage on the Run
Murderer on the Run
Betrayed on the Run
Corruption on the Run
1
The happily ever afters were falling into place in Bear Springs for all but one. Trista. She had a good life in Bear Springs. After two years there, it felt like home. She had built a family of friends who she adored and even opened a business. Her one and only regret? Loving a man who couldn’t love her enough to fight for her. It seemed to be a pattern with her, so she wrote off men altogether and focused on building her business and raising her son, Mason.
Trista had put Mason to bed for the night after celebrating engagements, weddings, and good health with her friends. It had been an amazing day full of love and joy, yet as tired as she was, Trista couldn’t go to sleep herself. She was really good at putting on a happy face during the day when she was around other people, but nighttime was a different story. She felt safe in Bear Springs – most of the time.
After the ordeal she went through with her now deceased husband, living on the run and in fear for her life and the life of her son…Trista struggled with feeling safe at night when she was alone. When it was dark and quiet, she was left with her haunting thoughts. Every sound, every shadow spooked her. Her routine was to stay up late until sleep claimed her against her will, and Trista would finally succumb to dreams over nightmares out of sheer exhaustion, albeit with the lights and TV still on.
Nearing that time of night when her head was foggy and her eyes drooping, she was ready to head to her room when there was a knock on her door. She froze in fear, trying to sort whether or not she’d really heard it or just reached the stage of exhaustion when you hear and see things that aren’t there. It was well after midnight, and Trista wasn’t expecting anyone. None of her friends would ever think to come by so late, knowing she had a child in the house. It just wasn’t like them in general. So who could it be? She prayed the wind had settled in for a long night, and that’s all she’d heard.
Paranoia rolled in, and adrenaline had taken over. She stopped at the nearby closet and reached for the gun she had hidden on the highest shelf out of Mason’s reach. It had been a long time since she had reached for courage of that type. Turning off the safety, she slowly went to the door, jumping when another knock came harder and louder. It wasn’t the wind. No. It was an unwelcome guest who was about to be greeted in the friendliest way she knew when faced with a midnight threat at her doorstep.
She stood there a good minute, recalling what she had been taught about handling and firing a weapon. Trista was taught how to shoot by the very man who protected her on the run and then ran from her when their journey came to an end. Owen Force was easy on the eyes, delicious in bed, but bad for the heart and forevers. Good with a gun too, good as a teacher? That was yet to be seen and judged by the threatening presence of her night caller should she have to protect herself.
With a hand on the doorknob, Trista waited for a third knock before throwing the door open, startling the person on the other side. She was banking on the element of surprise. And she got it.
A sharp gasp escaped her when Trista saw who was standing at the other end of a potential bullet she was waging to share. Owen Force. He was back and standing on her front step with his hands up in an immediate surrender.
“We have a problem…”
Trista knew he was in town and had been for weeks. Along with the help of his brothers, he was meddling in his sister’s relationship. It wasn’t entirely a family reunion. Owen and his brothers were instrumental in a local rescue when her dear friend Ember Shayne had gone missing and was held by a psychopath. For that, she was grateful, but seeing him standing on her doorstep in the middle of the night just plain pissed her off. She might have found her own psychopath more welcome.
“We do have a problem. You…knocking on my door in the middle of the night.” Trista started to close the door, but he put a hand up and stopped her.
“Tris, I’m serious. I’ve been in town for weeks. We need to talk.”
“Oh, got bored with the family and decided, hmm, I think I’ll drop in on Trista and see what she’s been up to for the past few years? Yeah, no thanks. Goodbye, Owen.”
“Dammit, Trista. I was only here with them as a cover. I’ve been staking out the place and following leads. Leads that brought me to your doorstep in the middle of the night,” he said.
“Right, middle of the night,” Trista waved her hands around and spoke in a quiet, spooky voice, “all stealth-like to hide from bad guys.”
With her hand on her hip and a death glare locked on him, she said, “News flash, big guy…Cesar is dead. The bad guys are gone. You saw to that. Remember? We were safe here because you were off fighting them.”
“No, Ember’s case was just an unforeseen distraction. I’m glad we were here to help, but it isn’t why any of us were here,” Owen confided.
“Convenient. So…what’s the big threat then? It’s late, and I’m tired, so speak,” Trista said with as much sass as she could muster.
Owen knew it would be anything but easy to talk to her again and that she would be angry, to say the least, but this was a side of Trista he’d never encountered. He broke her heart and might as well have stomped on it while he dragged his ass getting back to town, but it was all for them. It was apparent that convincing her of that wouldn’t be easy, if possible at all.
“It’s complicated. Can you put that gun away and let me inside?” Owen said, looking around with a concerned scowl. “Jesus, Tris. Just let me in.”
That had her attention. He didn’t scare easily, and something had Owen stressed. Knowing he was probably the only real threat – as he still held pieces of her heart – Trista reluctantly let him in. The truth be told, seeing him made her heart skip. It was one thing seeing Owen from afar, but up close and personal was trying her willpower.
“Fine.” Trista held the door open wid
e and let him pass through before closing it behind him. She engaged the safety on the gun and followed him into the living area. “So what’s the big threat? If it’s Ember’s stalker, I’m already fully informed. That guy’s dead too and wasn’t into me to begin with. Sounds like you can go home now. It’s late. I’m going to bed,” she said. “This will have to wait until tomorrow.”
“You’re going to bed with a gun? Why do you have that anyway? Has something happened? Has he been here?” Owen became more concerned.
Giving him a side-eye, Trista tried to decide what he was really asking, and fired back, “He? Oh, so that’s what this is about! You think some guy is staying here? Well, there is – my son – now leave.”
“I’m not leaving you alone. It isn’t safe,” Owen declared before nodding at the gun she was still holding. “Especially with that thing around. You couldn’t shoot anyone. It’s not your thing.”
“Well, Captain Asshat, a lot has changed since you left. I could and would shoot this thing.” Trista aimed the gun at his knees, safety engaged. She wasn’t that stupid. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”
“Dammit, Tris, I get you’re pissed at me, but we really do have a problem. You and Mason are not safe – not alone anyway, not until we figure this all out.”
“Keep it down! Mason is sleeping. Go stay with your sister, and we’ll talk tomorrow,” she grumped.
“Can’t. She’s a newlywed.” Owen shrugged with a smug grin. Two could play this game.
She rolled her eyes at his excuse. It was going to be one of those nights, apparently. “Okay, go stay with Tayler.”
Shaking his head, he crossed his arms. “Tayler likes his privacy…”
“Oh, gee, imagine that.” Trista’s surprised look turned to an irritated frown. “So do I. Surely there’s somewhere else. We can talk about your new bad guy tomorrow. Where are your brothers staying? Go there.”
“There is somewhere, and it’s right here in this house. It’s safer this way, and you are just going to have to wrap your pretty little head around that.” Owen didn’t tend to be condescending, but she was starting to push his buttons, so he pushed hers right back. “I’m not messing around here, and I’m not leaving. There’s no room with my brothers, and even if there was, I’d still be here.”
She tossed her hands in the air in defeat and frustration. “Fine! You aren’t sleeping in my bed. I don’t want to confuse my son, and you lost that privilege. Couch. Lock the door behind you. Apparently, there are bad guys in town.”
As frustrated as she was, Trista was glad he was there. Nights were the worst, and lately, she had that odd inkling that made the hair on her arms tingle. Trista was being watched. She knew it – felt it – and Owen being there only confirmed it. Though relieved to have his presence near, she didn’t want him to know that. As far as Owen was concerned, he was the last person on earth she cared to see.
She stormed off to her room, leaving Owen standing in the middle of the living room. No blanket, no pillow, just stormed off. He’d slept in far worse conditions with a pillow and blanket, so he wasn’t going to complain.
Owen laid on the couch, trying to make himself fit in a way that wouldn’t leave him crippled by morning. He was big, and the couch was not. Trista was just as feisty as he remembered – tough, strong, and confident. Gorgeous, even with that attitude.
He fell asleep at some point, his thoughts of Tris leading to memories that played like the highlight reel of their time together. Owen was dreaming about their last time together when he woke to someone shaking him vigorously. Not expecting such, he was startled to a sitting position where his sights locked on the cold and stormiest blue eyes he’d ever seen. He remembered them well, and at four years old, they were just as striking as ever before.
2
“Hey, Mason,” Owen greeted while rubbing his eyes and leaning back on the couch.
“You know my name,” the little boy responded as a statement, not a question.
Owen grinned at the sound of his little raspy voice, shocked at how big the kid had gotten. “I’ve known you a very long time, kid. I’m your mommy’s friend.”
“Mommy doesn’t have any boy friends,” the boy replied in confusion.
Raising his eyebrows, Owen filed that little bit of info away and winked at the tot. “Good to know.”
Mason tilted his little head sideways in confusion. “Are you a giant?”
“No. Not a giant, Mace.”
“Why are you so big?” the little boy immediately fired back.
Before Owen could answer, the kid looked Owen over, trying to see under and around. “Your feet don’t fit.”
The kid was cute. Owen couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’m just sort of tall, I guess?”
“Your shoes are on the couch. We aren’t supposed to have our shoes on the couch.”
“Technically, my feet hang over, so my feet aren’t really on the couch.”
Mason’s eyes went big, shaking his head, and his voice went to a whisper, “Don’t say that to my mom.”
“Why?” Owen sat up, dropping his own voice to a whisper, “Is she bossy?”
“No, because she’ll tell you no sassin’, and you can’t wear shoes in the house either,” Mason said, pointing at Owen’s shoes, causing him to turn his body and plant them firmly on the floor.
Owen was amused. The kid was cute, so he obliged, following the rules, and kicked his shoes off. “Oh, well you could’ve started with that, bud.”
Mason slapped his hand to his forehead in obvious frustration. “That’s not where shoes go.”
He picked up Owen’s shoes and quickly ran to the closet, watching for his mom as he went, and put the shoes away, grunting the whole time. “These are heavy!”
Trista leaned against the wall at the walkway between the hallway and living room, amused by Mason. She knew Mason didn’t remember Owen, but he was certainly taken by him already. He wasn’t a shy child, but to be so bold and confront Owen as he did was impressive. A giant, strange man was on her couch, and Mason was as comfortable with him as anyone.
“Hey Mama, there’s a man on the couch. I put his shoes away. They weren’t on the couch, but I told him the rules. He won’t do it no more,” Mason said with pride.
Well, what was this? Mason was already defending Owen and helping him out of trouble? Interesting.
“Mason, that man is…someone Mommy used to know,” she said, sending a cold stare Owen’s way. “His name is Mr. Force. He’s Auntie Lyla’s big brother.”
Owen took the shot. He expected pushback from her. Someone Trista used to know? If that didn’t send a message, he didn’t know what did. At the mention of his sister, it dawned on him that Lyla was probably closer to Trista and Mason than he was, and that truth stung.
“Oh! I want a brother,” Mason said in excitement as he looked at Owen, impressed with his connection to Lyla. “What’s for breakfast, Mama?”
Trista wanted to be up front with her son and not confuse him. It wasn’t a typical thing to wake up to a giant on your couch. “We’ll have breakfast soon. Mr. Force stayed here because Aunt Lyle was…busy.”
A knock on the door startled them from their awkward conversation. They weren’t expecting anyone that early, which put Owen on high alert. Shielding Trista and Mason, he opened the door abruptly, startling those on the other side. Expressionless and apparently speechless, Tyson stood holding a pastry box, and Becca was holding their baby, Emma.
“Oh…hey, Owen,” Tyson finally said, looking back and forth between Owen and Trista, who were in a stare down. “This…is a surprise.”
Owen was smug, and Trista was pissed. They hardly heard Becca speak. “I’m headed into town. These two were joining me today. I wanted to see if you wanted to ride in with us.”
Becca owned the town tasting room that also served as a small café. Bear Springs drew tourists from all walks of life, so she capitalized on that by specializing in local wines as well as local brews, dist
illed goods, and even coffee. It was an unlikely collection, but somehow made sense in their small town, proving to be quite profitable. Tasting sat on prime real estate in the middle of Main Street, the only way in and out of town.
Next door, Trista had opened Lalapalooza, an indoor playground where parents could wear out their kids during the months when snow and rain prevented outdoor energy-burning play or on the summer days that were too hot to handle. For the parents, a window connected to Tastings meant they could order lunch, a snack, or a glass of chardonnay when coffee wouldn’t do the trick.
“I’m taking them,” Owen replied, not breaking his side of the stare down.
A razor-sharp glare threatened Owen when Trista replied, “I can drive myself.”
With Mason and the baby present, they kept their tones light as if it were nothing more than friendly conversation and not a battle of wills. “I’m driving you.”
Her smile too big, tone delightful, Trista giggled and said, “Why don’t you just beat your chest and get it over with? You know, you’re kind of a bully.”
“Ohhhh, I think you mean gorilla. They actually beat their chests,” Owen said, matching her smile and enthusiasm. “I’m going with you. I’ll be there as long as you are, in fact. If you want to drive, be my guest.”
Tyson and Becca continued to watch the event, looking back and sharing daring looks as they were secretly waging on who was going to win.
“Actually, you can’t come with me to work. We guarantee everybody on staff and around the children are thoroughly vetted with comprehensive background checks. We actually advertise it. Our process is pretty lengthy and takes a while.” Trista enjoyed delivering a low blow. “But it’s for the kids. You can never be too safe. Sorry.”
