Ty didn't give a single shit. Beneath the stench of fear and piss, Ty could sniff out the beta's conniving nature.
"Maybe not," he said. "But your friend out there didn't come up with the plan on his own. You're the one who told him what to do. And now you're going to face the consequences."
"I don't want to die," the beta wept.
Too bad.
Ty gritted his teeth as he pulled his fist back. He was just about to bring it down as hard as he could against the side of the coward's skull, turning bone to dust, when he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun hammer cocking into place.
"Killing him would be a mistake, Ty," Agent Christie said softly at his ear.
Ty grimaced. "Let me guess—because then you'd have to shoot me?"
"That's one reason," the agent said calmly. "But think of what would happen after. If you die, Mia would be left alone, and I would have no choice but to go onto your land, bring her out and give her back to her father. Is that really what you want?"
Fuck.
Christie was right. The goddamn reasonable agent was right. There was something more important than Ty's lust for revenge.
Mia.
He couldn't keep her safe if he was in a cold grave in the ground.
"You don't have any idea how lucky you are, do you, shitbag?" he snarled at Josh.
"You're not going to kill me?" Relief—and a hint of smugness—showed in the kid's eyes.
"No."
"Oh, thank God." The smugness took over his expression, driving out any remorse.
"I'm just going to break every bone in your jaw," Ty said, before hammering his fist into the side of Josh's face.
The coward collapsed instantly, clutching his bleeding mouth and wailing to high heaven.
Feeling somewhat satisfied, Ty turned on his heel and started toward his truck.
"He's not dead," he called over his shoulder.
Agent Christie gave him a nod of approval. "That's all I asked."
Chapter Seven
He'd been gone far too long.
Mia rubbed her hands together as she sat cross-legged on the couch. She wasn't cold or stiff anymore. The bath had warmed her skin and soothed her muscles. Now she was just nervous.
The anxious feeling had started the second Ty had left the cabin and grown stronger with every passing minute.
At first, Mia thought she was just worried about him finding Dustin or Josh or—God forbid—her father. But if that was the case, why wasn't she taking the opportunity to run away?
After all, with Ty gone, Mia had the perfect chance to leave. The moment her strength returned, she could have bolted out the door and never looked back.
But she hadn't.
Instead, she'd soaked in the bath, washed her hair and her body, and let the steam soothe her mind.
Even when she was out of the tub, dried off, dressed, and feeling fully recovered, she'd still stayed inside the house. There was a part of her that just couldn't leave. She didn't just want to stay…though she couldn't explain it, she had to.
At one point, Mia had even opened the door and gone out onto the patio for a while. The farthest she'd made it was to the bottom of the steps before feeling the overwhelming need to rush back inside.
Somehow, over the last few days of her life, something had changed. Something essential and irreversible.
Now Ty's two-room cabin was the only place where she felt safe. The only place she wanted to be.
But the house didn't feel complete. It was missing something.
Him.
This new reality confused the hell out of Mia. She couldn't deny that her body needed his. That much had become shamefully clear when she'd lost days in a lust-filled haze.
But no. There was more to it than that.
Mia sat, waiting to hear the sound of Ty's truck driving up the dirt road, but it wasn't because she simply wanted his cock. She needed something deeper. His steadying presence. The sense of security that surrounded her when he was close. The knowledge that in his eyes, she was special…Worthy….Sacred.
She didn't know where these needs came from. All she knew was that something so sudden and profound had to come from a force outside herself.
After all, she barely knew Ty. She'd only learned his name a few hours ago. She knew hardly anything about his life, or his values, or his—
The sound of tires on gravel snapped Mia out of her thoughts. She jumped up from the couch and ran to the door, opening it just as the familiar worn brown truck came to a stop under the large tree out front. A cluster of birds flew from the branches as Ty threw open the door and stepped down.
Even from her perch on the porch, Mia could spot the storm clouds darkening his brow.
But far more frightening were the splashes of dried blood on his knuckles and shirt. Mia covered her mouth as she took in the horrific sight.
A thousand questions swirled in her head. Whose blood was it? What had they done to rile his anger? Had they lived to walk away?
Mia couldn't bring herself to ask any of her questions out loud. She wasn't sure she could deal with the answers. So instead, she asked the safest question she could think of.
"What happened?"
"I told you." Ty didn't bother to look her in the eye as he reached the top of the stairs. He just kept walking right into the house. "I had business down at the bar."
Mia should have let it go at that. If there was one thing she'd learned over the years, it was how to hold her tongue. But something inside her had changed. And even though she feared what might happen if she pushed Ty too far, she couldn't stop herself.
She'd been left alone too long. The worry inside her had built to unbearable levels. She needed answers.
"What business?" Mia angled herself half in and half out of the open door. He still didn't answer, so
