Payback: A Vigilante Justice Novel

by Kristin Harte

  True, she’d nodded her permission, but only after I’d pushed. Consent under duress wasn’t consent, and that fact ate at me. She didn’t seem angry or upset. In fact, she’d let me hold her hand the whole way to Cam’s place, but still, I worried that I’d crossed a line I shouldn’t have.

  If I wasn’t stuck in the hell of trying to fight a house fire, I might be able to figure out whether I was the hero or the villain in her story.

  “We need more water back here!”

  I hooked another hose to the water truck with my family name on the side—the one I’d bought to protect the town in moments like this—and directed one of my men toward the biggest flare-up. We all worked continuously, running and carrying water, directing hoses, using axes and saws to open up hot spots so we could try to contain the damage. We risked our lives even though we already knew there would be no putting this fire out.

  Like at Shye’s trailer, someone had known what they were doing. Justice had no fire department…hell, we didn’t even have hydrants except for a couple along the strip of businesses in what we considered town. Three shops, one restaurant that had opened recently, a gas station, a tiny post office, and a few empty buildings—not a lot of tax revenue coming in to pay for things like first responders, so we did without. But someone had known help would be slow if at all, and they had set the sort of fires even my team of employees and our water trucks couldn’t handle.

  The fire had burned slowly, smoldering through the place until it found a new source of air. A way to breathe. Once fire met oxygen? Inferno. All the water in the world wouldn’t save Camden’s house. Or his wife, something I kept to myself until someone could confirm if she’d been in there.

  First Shye, now Camden. Or had the mark been Leah? I needed to figure it out and fast because there was a slip of a girl sitting in my truck—one I’d been slightly obsessed with for three long, lonely years—and there was no fucking way I’d let anything more happen to her.

  My father had always said all the best things were worth the wait, and I had a feeling Shye was the very best thing for me. But I was fucking done waiting. Someone torching her home had thrown my plan to go slow with her, to give her time to come to me, right out the window. And now? Well…she might hate me for what I was going to do, but I had no other choice. Not after the fires, and especially not after I’d finally gotten a taste of that wicked little mouth. And her cunt. Oh, fuck…her cunt.

  I could still taste her on my lips, and I wanted more. Wanted to slide inside that juicy little heaven and plant my seed deep. Wanted to watch my come run down her thighs after I’d exhausted her body with mine. I’d done the right thing—silently watching over her, practically hiding in the shadows as I waited for her to respond to me for three long years. But the girl was good at hiding, as I’d found out tonight. She’d responded so strongly, with so much passion. She wanted me just like I wanted her, so the waiting game was over. It was time to be more direct.

  Bishop appeared from the side of the house, his tall body in shadow for a long moment before he edged my way, talking softly so no one overheard him. “It’s a little more controlled now. Do we start the search?”

  For Leah…who should have been home and inside the very house burning in front of my eyes. “If you can do so safely, yeah. But I don’t want the men risking their lives. If she was in there…”

  I didn’t need to finish my sentence. He knew. The whole damn group did. If Leah had been in there, she wouldn’t be making it out alive. And that, her death, would fall squarely on my shoulders.

  I took responsibility for our town because 90% of the people living in it either worked directly for me or were there because of my sawmill. Justice, Colorado may as well have been labeled Kennard property. I made sure my guys ran circuits on the roads, keeping an eye on any unusual activity. We collected drunks from The Jury Room and stepped in to help when someone got sick or injured and couldn’t work. We also ran our own fire protection team, giving out extinguishers every Christmas and making sure people knew when to change the batteries in their smoke detectors. I’d bought a handful of four-thousand-gallon water trucks to help fight fires, but all of that was useless when someone intentionally set a blaze like the one today. Like the one at Shye’s place.

  My people were under attack.

  Bishop disappeared back around the rear of the house right as Gage crept up beside me, his face devoid of emotion but his eyes burning with an anger I’d never seen before. I’d also never seen him without Rex on his heels.

  “This can’t be good,” I said, silently looking around for the dog.

  “He’s in the truck with your girl. I think he might like her more than me.” Gage turned, and I followed, looking toward where I’d parked what seemed like so long ago. Rex was indeed sitting right next to Shye in my truck, the two watching the house burn through the windshield, with a blanket over their shoulders.

  “Can’t say that I blame him.” Shye’s eyes met mine, and the fear I saw there—the obvious exhaustion—made my heart lurch. “Fuck, they shouldn’t be here.”

  “Better here where we can watch over them than alone somewhere out of our reach. Which leads me to my next statement. We’ve got a problem.”

  We had a metric fuckton of them, really. “I swear to Christ, man, if you say that to me one more time tonight—”

  “Someone nailed a window shut around the back of the house.”

  It took me a full three seconds to take in his words. “Nailed…which window?”

  “Master bedroom.”

  When I’d fought with the Green Berets, one of my many jobs had been working with Deacon, former sniper with a kill list longer than my goddamned leg. We’d done the sort of work not shown on news stations back home—secretive, black ops, wet work. Part of that had been sabotaging the plans of criminal cells by assassinating the people causing trouble for our government. I knew the drill of a planned hit inside and out. Locate the mark, monitor them to learn their patterns and habits, confirm identity, and prep for the mission by securing any escape routes in case things went sideways, and waiting until the opportune time to strike, which meant…

  “Camden was at The Jury Room with Deacon tonight.”

  Gage nodded, though I didn’t need him to confirm that. Every last Saturday of the month, Deacon hosted a mini poker tournament at the bar. Players came from up to a hundred miles away to get in on the action, and Camden always worked security. He’d been doing it for years.

  And whoever set the fire had known that.

  “Motherfucker.” Rage unlike anything I’d ever felt burned through my blood. Someone had targeted Camden, had watched or asked around. Knew enough to set his fucking house on fire when he was out. That was bad enough, but they’d intentionally trapped Leah inside, which took this to a whole other level. One I hadn’t been expecting. One that would start a war between Justice and these fucking road rats.

  But first, I needed to take care of the immediate issues. “Where’s Camden?”

  “Up front. Got Finn babysitting him.” Cam’s best friend. Smart choice.

  “How’s he doing?”

  “He knows she’s in there.”

  Of course he did. “They trapped her inside to burn.”

  “Yeah.”

  And we would kill every last one of them who planned or acted. “We need details. Get Bishop on it. He needs to find out who ordered the job and who set the fire. I want to know everyone involved, down to the cashier that sold them the matches.” I stared into the flames, wishing with everything I had that we were wrong. That Leah would come strolling up the driveway after a girls’ night out. But we all knew better. Leah didn’t go out without Camden, and Cam rarely left her side unless he was working. The two had been together since high school, which was also where Finn had met them. Add in Finn’s twin, Elijah, and Bishop’s ex Anabeth, and you had the Five Musketeers of Justice. The three boys had been inseparable, Anabeth had been practically family already, and Leah had simp
ly become part of the group when Cam started seeing her. I was a lot older than the twins, but I remembered the younger Camden and Leah always hanging at our house.

  After high school, Elijah and Finn had gone off to college while Anabeth had headed to Las Vegas to become some sort of medium or psychic. I wasn’t real sure. Leah had stuck around town from what I understood, working at the little hardware store on Main Street, while Camden had joined the Marines. The two had stayed together through boot camp and deployments, the girl completely loyal and faithful to the man who might as well have been another brother to me. She’d also stepped in to help once Finn’s drug use had come to light, something I’d appreciated seeing as how I had been in the Army at the time and couldn’t come home as much as I would have wanted to. I’d liked her, the Kennard family had practically adopted her, and Cam had loved her. Her death would be a dark moment for the entire damn town.

  Someone had studied their marks well.

  “I want them dead,” I said, my voice low and quiet. “We handle the investigation, we track the fuckers down, we kill them. No fucking sheriff or DA. No lawyers. Right?”

  “I couldn’t agree more. And boss, I don’t want to tell you we’ve got another problem—”

  I groaned. “What now?”

  “Baker’s here.”

  There wasn’t a fire in the world that could blaze as hot as my fury when our lazy, corrupt sheriff came strolling up Camden’s driveway.

  “Two in a week,” he said, ignoring all the activity around him as good men actually did their damn jobs. Something he knew very little about, in my opinion. “That’s quite the coincidence, don’t you think?”

  No, I didn’t think. But I wouldn’t trust Baker to shine my shoes, let alone investigate a murder. “Awfully late for you, Sheriff Baker. Shouldn’t you be at home by now watching Wheel of Fortune?”

  He scowled, the fire throwing deep shadows on his prissy face. The scar from our first run-in practically fucking glowing. He hadn’t been sheriff then, though. Just a deputy. A fact that had probably kept my ass out of prison.

  “Just doing my job, Alder. Though, for a logging man, you seem to be real interested in these fires you got going on. What, ain’t got nothing better to do?”

  Someday, I’d pop that motherfucker right in the mouth. I’d done it once—while on leave from the Army, when my dad had still been alive and I’d been trying to figure out what to do with a dying logging business while knowing I needed to get back to my unit. Baker’d come to the house to arrest Finn for supposedly selling narcotics. I’d known it was a sham, he’d known it was a sham, so when he put his hands on my baby brother, I’d lost it and took a swing. Two, really—one to the chest and one to the mouth that left a scar on his top lip. Spent four nights in jail for that one.

  Finn spent seven years in prison, though, all for a trumped-up charge. The kid had used, but he’d never sold. And Baker had known it. But he’d pushed the prosecutor to make an example of Finn Kennard, and he’d fabricated some story about seeing my little brother selling meth. Which was why I couldn’t help but hate the motherfucker.

  “Is that Miss Anderson in your truck there, Alder?” Baker asked, staring toward where Shye did indeed sit wrapped in a blanket inside my truck. Rex jumped as I watched, his front legs on the dashboard, barking. Smart dog—he’d always hated Baker.

  I shot a look to Gage, and he dipped his chin before slowly making his way toward the truck. Gage and my brother Bishop may have been the ones fighting on the same team during their time in the SEALs, but we were all former military. He knew what I wanted without a word, and I knew he’d lay down his life to give it to me. Hell, between him and Bishop, they’d probably do anything to keep Shye and me close at that point. Both loved to bust my balls about my obsession with her. Gage had even been with me the night I first met her. He’d known right away that I wanted her to be mine. Nothing would be getting through him.

  Once Gage was in position to keep my girl and his dog safe, I granted Baker my undivided attention. Which meant scowling at him until he couldn’t hold my gaze any longer. Coward. “You got a problem, Sheriff?”

  “Just wondering what y’all got going over here. I know the people of Justice—especially you Kennards—seem to think you’re above the law and like to handle things yourselves, but you’ve never had an arsonist in your midst.” He nodded toward my truck. “How long she lived here again?”

  The world went red, and not from the flames behind me. “You listen here, Baker. Shye Anderson’s got nothing to do with these fires. She’s here because I brought her with me to keep her safe. In case you haven’t gotten a clue yet, she’s been through some shit this week.”

  “Some shit that could pay out well in insurance money, it seems.” He took a step back even as he smirked my way, holding his hands up as if in surrender when I followed him. Practically fucking taunting me. “What about this one? This is Camden Reese’s place, isn’t it? Anyone home when the fire started?”

  “Cam was handling security at the poker tournament for Deacon.” The prosecutor couldn’t get me on impeding an investigation so long as I told the truth, which I did. I definitely didn’t need to tell him a damned thing about Leah—not yet. Especially since he didn’t ask about her specifically. That would be my secret for a few more hours. We needed to get inside the house and collect some intel before letting that news out of our circle. If Baker knew there could be a dead girl inside the house, he’d immediately try to take over the investigation. Rumor had it his services could be bought, and if he figured out who was responsible, he’d likely end up in their pocket. We’d never find out who killed her if that happened. Or get our revenge. We needed a little time before the law got involved.

  Sheriff Baker watched the fire for a moment before focusing on where Camden sat huddled under a tree with Finn at his side. Both men looking hard, mean, and ready to kill. Which made the next statement out of the good sheriff’s mouth that much more ignorant. “I should talk to Camden, see if he—”

  I stopped him with a hand to his chest. He wasn’t getting near Cam. He especially wasn’t getting near Cam when Finn was around. “You want a statement, call him in for one. Better yet, call my brother Elijah in the morning—he’s Cam’s lawyer and can handle the details for you. Tonight’s not the night.”

  Baker glared, puffing up his chest as if trying to intimidate me. “No matter what you think, Kennard, I’m the law in these parts. Not you.”

  Wrong answer.

  “Says who?” I held his gaze, letting him get a good look at the fury inside of me, making sure he knew who the top dog was in Justice. Because it sure as fuck wasn’t him.

  Baker hissed a curse as he turned on his heel, retreating like the coward I knew him to be. “I want Camden in my office first thing tomorrow, Alder.”

  “I’ll let Elijah know about your request. I’m sure he’ll call with a response.” I tipped my head to him, refusing to lock Camden into something I knew wouldn’t be happening. At least, not without Elijah by his side to protect him. Especially if we were right about Leah.

  Baker needed to get the fuck out of town, and we needed to find Leah’s body before anyone else did. And I needed to figure out a way to convince Shye to move in with me so I could keep an eye on her. Because there was no way she was going back to that motel after this. No way in hell.

  Fuck, it was going to be such a long night.

  * * *

  The glow of the coming dawn had just begun to light up the eastern sky by the time we were able to begin busting into the back of the house. The roof had burned through and a couple of walls had fallen around one side, but we had to use a chainsaw to cut into the master bedroom. The saw screamed in Gage’s hands, and three guys kept a constant flow of water on the structure, backing up their teammate. Bishop would be the one to head in, though. It needed to be a Kennard in that building, heading up that search.

  Finn had wanted to be the one to look for Leah, but none of us thought t
hat was a good idea. Finn may have been sober since he’d gotten out of prison over a decade before, but whatever had happened to Leah could put that at risk. We needed him solid, which meant he couldn’t be the one to find her. We had no idea what they’d done to her before they’d set the fire.

  While the boys worked, I stole a moment to head to my truck and check on my girl. Shye had been in and out a few times, always coming straight to my side as soon as she exited the vehicle, but it’d been a couple hours since I’d gotten to smell her hair or touch her skin. I was due.

  “Hey,” I said when I opened the door. Her sleepy eyes met mine, and her smile made my heart beat a little faster. Fuck, this girl had truly destroyed me in the best way. “How you doing, honey?”

  “I’m fine. Everything okay?”

  No, not in the least, but she didn’t need to know that. “As much as it can be. Do you need anything? Water? A snack? Another blanket?”

  She shook her head, rubbing her hand over Rex’s head. Damn dog had curled up with his head in her lap…lucky beast.

  “I should be asking you that,” she said, stealing my attention again. “You’re the one out there working. You and your men. What do you need that I can help you with?”

  I leaned farther into the truck, stepping onto the running board to better reach those lips I’d been craving. One kiss, two, keeping them nice and soft. Smiling when she kissed me back. “I only need you.”

  That smile I loved grew. “Charmer.”

  “I try.”

  She glanced past me, worrying her lip for a second. Looking anxious. “Is the sheriff still here?”

  “Baker? No, he left hours ago.”

  Her sigh definitely sounded like relief. “Good. He doesn’t like me much.”

  “Yeah, well, that makes two of us. Though I couldn’t give a flying fuck if he liked me.”

  Her head cocked, and her eyebrows pulled down into the cutest confused sort of expression. “Why doesn’t he like you?”

  “You know that scar on his lip?” I grinned when she nodded. “I gave it to him.”