Page 61 of Danger

“Danger. I’m serious.”

I hold her stare, waiting for her to blink.

She doesn’t.

Those damn baby blues soften just enough to be dangerous. Steady. Trusting.

And that’s what breaks me.

I rub my jaw. “You’re unbelievable.”

Her smile is small and victorious. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I open the passenger door. “Get in the truck, Winnie.”

She climbs in like she knew she would all along.

I shut the door behind her, circle to my side, and climb in.

Once we’re rolling down the blacktop, I side eye her. “If I tell you to stay in the truck, you need to listen. If I tell you to drive away, I need you to listen. No hesitating, got it?”

She nods.

I push the gas, and we fly down the road, headlights cutting through the dark. I don’t talk, and neither does she. Just the radio, and the engine.

By the time we get to the ranch, there’s already three trucks pulled up, headlights splashing across the cattle pens. I can hear the herd, frantic and scattered. Someone’s cursing near the fence line.

I cut the engine. “Stay in the truck.”

She listens.

I scan the scene: two ranch hands at the gate, one up on the ridge with a flashlight. The fence is torn in two places,strands of barbed wire dangling, and a dozen steers are already meandering toward the creek.

“Anyone else on the property?” I yell out.

“Not anymore,” one of the hands yells back.

I come around to Winnie’s side and open her door before she can reach for the handle. I offer her my hand. “You’re good,” I say.

I walk to the broken fence. Winnie’s right on my heels, silent but there.

Derrick’s waiting at the split. “Kennedy’s,” he says, shaking his head. “When I got here they yelled somethin’ about knowin’ who this belongs to. Dropped it. Then they tore off.”

He nudges something forward with the toe of his boot.

A cowboy hat is in the dirt between us, brim scuffed, crown creased.

The fence behind him hangs open, wire snapped clean. Beyond it, cattle drift toward the dark, all spread out.

I don’t pick it up. I don’t need to. I know exactly whose hat that is.

“Get the boys to round them up. Start with the river side. Winnie, stay close.”

I start barking orders—who’s to the north, who’s on fence duty.

Once everyone scatters to their jobs, I head back toward the truck, but Winnie cuts me off, puts both hands on my chest and plants her feet. “Where are you going now?”

I arch a brow. “To kill a Kennedy. You don’t want to be there for that.”