We break, walking in unison until the lights from a structure filter through the trees. We creep closer, our footfalls light, until a small, dilapidated cabin comes into view. Even from this distance, I can make out two figures on the porch. I pause, pulling my military-grade night-vision binoculars from my pocket. Everyone stops and waits for me.
The second I peer through them, I wish like hell I hadn’t.
I turn my head, squeeze my eyes tight, and cuss through clenched teeth. I pass the binos to my dad, who looks and sends them on to Warner, then to Wyatt. They look at me, waiting to see if what we’ve discovered changes our plans.
“Proceed,” I murmur, my volume less than a whisper. I can’t help but feel like the years I spent deactivating explosives in the Middle East were all leading up to this moment, preparing me for the most important job of my life.
Warner and Wyatt go right, my dad goes left, and I walk forward. I’m close enough now that I don’t need the binoculars to see. Dixon, slouching on the bottom step, his back against the railing. And Dakota, in the middle of the porch, bound and gagged. She sits on her knees, and strapped to her chest is the most embarrassing attempt at a homemade bomb I’ve ever seen.
But that doesn’t mean it won’t detonate.
My hands clench and unclench, adrenaline pulses through my body, and my ears begin to pound. This is rage like I’ve never felt it.
Dakota’s eyes are closed, and I close mine for a second too, trying to send her a message. I’m here. I’m going to save you. When my eyes open, I find hers have also. I’ve never believed in fate, in ghosts or angels, or in almost anything I can’t see, but right now Dakota’s eyes are trained on me. I know she cannot possibly see me under the cover of darkness, but it feels like she is looking straight into my soul, like she heard me.
I put one foot in front of the other until I’m a hair’s breadth from the clearing.
Dakota’s eyes grow wide, and her body jerks as if she was going to get up and try to run but stopped herself. Dakota’s reaction has told Dixon he’s getting just what he wanted.
Me.
He swings around and stands, his gaze zeroing in on me. Then he grins, the kind of sinister smile that belongs on a Halloween mask. There is blood on his face.
The smile falls off his face like he’s just realized he’s forgotten something and he scrambles up the steps, going to stand behind Dakota.
He’s hiding behind her like the coward he is.
“Let her go, Dixon,” I call out. “Your problem is with me.”
He shakes his head and reaches under his shirt, producing a small handgun. He points it at me. “Do you know what happened to my family after your dad fired my pops? My mom died and my dad killed himself. He was stealing because we needed the money to pay my mom’s medical expenses. Selling saddles made him a little extra money, and it didn’t hurt your dad. But no. Your dad wouldn’t have it.” He sneers and shakes his head. “I told you a king would fall. A Hayden took everything from my dad. Now I’m going to take everything from a Hayden.” He points the gun to Dakota’s temple.
“I’ll take her place,” I shout. “Let her go and come and get me.”
He snorts. “Do you expect me to believe Warner isn’t out there”—he motions to the woods with the gun—“somewhere, just waiting to get a shot?”
“He’s with the barn you set on fire. I went to find Dakota and discovered your pocket knife on the floor of the hotel room.” I dig the knife from my pocket and hold it up, tossing it out into the middle of the clearing.
Dixon eyes me, unsure. I have to get him away from Dakota, using any means necessary.
I hold up my gun, showing it to Dixon, and set it down on the ground. Dakota’s eyes are huge, pleading with me to stop, but my choice is made. I love Dakota more than anything, including my life. It shouldn’t come down to that, not with my brothers and my dad hiding in the woods, waiting, but it’s the truth. I stride ten feet into the clearing and sink to my knees. “Take me instead, Dixon.”
He’s unsure, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his mind. His gaze wanders around the perimeter of the tree line, then falls back to me. “I know Wyatt is drunk at a poker game, but where’s your old man?”
“He just had heart surgery. Coming out here would kill him. It’s just me, Dixon. And we both know it’s not Dakota you want. It’s me.”
Dakota whimpers, and the sound might as well have a blade attached to it because it slices through me. I want to look at her, reassure her with my gaze, but I don’t dare break Dixon’s stare. I need him to believe me and step away from Dakota.
“Say I decide to let you switch with her, what happens to the bomb?”
“I disarm it.”
Dixon laughs. “I’m not stupid.”
“I’ve told you before, I don’t think you’re stupid. You keep the gun on me while I disarm it. Then Dakota goes free and I’m yours.”
Dixon fixes a long, hard stare at me, then steps out from behind Dakota. My tense, coiled muscles relax a fraction, and my knees bear the weight of my relief.
He pauses on the top step, then keeps going.
One.
Two.
Three.
He’s clear of the house, almost dead center between me and Dakota.
Three shots ring out.
Dixon falls.
I’m up off my knees, running for Dakota. I thunder up the steps and sink to my knees before her. Her sobs are muffled, and it tears me apart.
“I’m here baby, I’m here. It’s all going to be okay now.” I look into her eyes briefly, then study the bomb taped to her chest. Just as I thought, it’s rudimentary. Day one of EOD training taught me—
Dakota makes a noise like a strangled cry, and I look up. Her terrified gaze is trained behind me.
Another crack fills the air and Dakota releases a muffled scream.
My ears ring. I blink against the sound and look quickly. Dixon is crumpled at the base of the stairs.
I turn my attention back to Dakota. “Just hold still,” I instruct. When I ran to my cabin earlier, I’d grabbed everything from the bag I keep in the top of my closet, the same bag I haven’t touched in five years. My flashlight, my binoculars, and my clippers. I reach into my pocket and pull out the clippers.
I know this is the moment when I’m supposed to think of the woman and her child. The nightmare I’ve been having for years should be replaying front and center in my mind.
And maybe I’m thinking of them a little. But really, all I see is Dakota. My inability to save the others has no bearing on this moment. Maybe, if I hadn’t gone to the meeting, I’d be reliving my nightmare. But I’m not.
I snip the correct wire cleanly, and without hesitation. The clippers slice through the duct tape and I remove the deactivated bomb.
Warner appears beside me. He takes the bomb from my hands without a word and walks into the ramshackle home.
I reach around Dakota, untying the gag and flinging it aside.
Her relieved sobs fill the night air. I hold her face, press my cheek to hers, and rock with her. Her tears mix with my own. The adrenaline that fueled me slowly subsides, and I feel crushing exhaustion.
“Wes.” My dad’s voice sounds like gravel. “Cut her free and get her away from here. Take her to the house and let Mom look her over.”