Rope the Moon (Runaway Ranch, #2)(113)

A split second later, a growl cuts through the night. “Don’t fucking move.”

“Davis,” I whisper.

My heart races as a shadow moves in the woods. Davis comes into view. The barrel of his gun trails Aiden, but I can sense his hesitation. He can’t get a good shot. Ever the asshole, Aiden uses me as a human-shield.

“Put the knife down and let her go.”

“Don’t come any closer,” Aiden warns. “I’ll stab her. Right in the belly.”

I make a sound of panic as the knife rests against the curve of my stomach.

To anyone else, Davis looks emotionless, but I see the pain etched across his face. It’s killing him to point the gun at me.

It’s okay, I mouth.

That strong muscle in his jaw tics. He advances, leaving six feet between us. His finger hovers over the trigger.

A twig snaps in the woods.

Davis’s eyes flick to the left. Then he zeroes in on Aiden. The gun steadies.

“Do it,” he commands, his voice clear and cool.

“Hey, asshole.” Ford’s drawl cuts through the black night.

Something round and black whips through the air, barely missing my cheek.

The rock hits Aiden smack center in the forehead, catching him off guard.

It’s all I need.

I slam an elbow into Aiden’s stomach and twist out of his arms.

I sprint blindly toward Ford.

He pulls me into a tight hug that shields me. “Don’t watch,” he says, low in my ear.

Davis fires.

Gunshots ring out.

I flinch against Ford’s chest.

Silence. My heartbeat throbs in my temples.

I stay still for a long second, curled into Ford, barely able to breathe, to believe, and then— “Dakota?”

Davis’s whiskey-soaked voice is heaven to my ears.

A cry leaves my mouth. I practically fly the distance between us, so fast my feet barely touch the ground. I throw myself into Davis’s arms.

“Dakota,” he mutters desperately. Cradling me tight against him, he kisses my jaw, my hair, my cheek, my lips. “Christ, I have you. I have you.”

I let the last thread of calm holding me together snap. A terrible sob rocks my body, but Davis only holds me tighter. I melt into him—soak in his steadiness, breathe in his strength.

“It’s okay,” he husks, rocking me back and forth. “You’re okay. I got you.”

He does. He always has. The lengths he’s gone to for me steal my breath.

“Aiden?” I look up at him.

“Don’t look,” he orders, crushing me to his chest.

But I have to.

I have to see that he’s gone.

When I look over, I see Aiden King face-up, unmoving on the forest floor. Two perfectly placed holes right between the eyes.

“He’s gone,” I whisper. Tears slide down my cheeks.

“It’ll never be enough,” Davis says, crushing me closer. “For what he did to you.” His dark brown eyes burn with icy fury, wild and intense. Too much rage for the man I love.

I reach up and cup that strong, whiskered jaw. “I knew you’d come. I knew you’d find us.”

“Baby, I was ready to tear down the entire fucking world the second he took you.”

Behind us, sirens cut the night air.

Footsteps. Ford.

“How in the hell you find us?” Davis gruffs over the top of my head.

“Woo-woo shit, man,” Ford drawls. I hear the soft lope of his boots, see the smile on his face as he passes us by in the forest. “It’s that woo-woo shit.”

Davis chuckles, then takes my chin between his fingers. He tilts my gaze to his and scours my face with an intensity I’ve never seen from him. “Are you hurt?” His massive hand palms my belly. “Squish?”

“We’re fine.” A knot of emotion forms in my throat. “My dad. Fallon.” Tears blur my vision. “She’s hurt. Aiden stabbed her. And my dad—”

“Stede’s alert and at the hospital by now. Bullet only grazed him. Fallon’s a little worse for wear, but she’ll be okay. Wyatt’s with her.”

I smile. “She’ll love that.”

“Let’s get you there, too. So we can get you and Squish checked over.”

“And then what?”

A grin tips his lips. “Didn’t you hear, Cupcake? We’re getting married.”





Dakota and the baby get poked and prodded until I’m reassured by the doctor that everything is okay. Dakota has heavy bruises and a cut on her abdomen, but she’s fine. Squish is okay too.

Thank God.

Thank God for Dakota.

She’s sore, but she’s alive.

A pissed off woman, a hurt woman, turns into one hell of a warrior. She got herself and our son out of there. Protected her sister. Saved my goddamn life.

Because if anything had happened to her…

Terror rakes its claws down my spine.

Fucking unfathomable.

With my hand guiding her out of the exam room, I turn to the doctor, unconvinced. “Are you sure they’re okay?”

Dakota grips my arm and rolls her eyes. “We’re fine.” She takes my hand and pulls me down the hallway. “C’mon, Hotshot. I want to see about my family.”