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And I’d fallen for it completely.

The anger crystallized into something colder as I headed for the door. More useful than rage. Because when I saw her—when I looked at the woman who’d shared my bed while betraying everything I stood for—I’d need that coldness.

No more fool. No more mark.

Just a sheriff who’d finally learned the truth about Piper Matthews.

Chapter 25

Lachlan

The gravel sprayedunder my tires as I skidded into Pawsitive Connections’ parking lot. The rage that had been building during the drive erupted as I slammed the truck door hard enough to make the windows rattle.

The main barn loomed ahead, its familiar red paint looking garish in the afternoon sun. I’d kissed Piper goodbye in this same spot yesterday morning, tasting coffee on her lips while she’d smiled up at me. All lies. Every smile, every touch, every whispered word in the dark—all of it calculated manipulation.

“Lachlan!” Lark appeared in the barn entrance, her auburn hair escaping from its messy bun. “Thank God you’re here. Something’s wrong with Piper?—”

I pushed past her into the barn. The familiar scents of hay and horses barely registered as I stalked down the aisle, boots striking the concrete with sharp cracks that made several horses shift nervously in their stalls.

“Where is she?”

“Lachlan, wait—” Lark grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. “What the hell is wrong with you? You need to calm down. She’s not well.”

“Not well?” I barked out a laugh that held no humor. “That’s one way to describe being a lying, manipulative?—”

“Stop.” Lark stepped directly into my path, forcing me to halt or bowl her over. Despite being half a foot shorter, she held her ground with the same stubborn determination she used with difficult horses. “Whatever’s going on, she’s in no state to handle you storming in here like a bull in a china shop.”

“You don’t understand what she’s done.”

“Then explain it to me. But first, take a breath.” Her green eyes held mine, unflinching. “I’ve never seen you like this. Not even during that hostage situation last year.”

The hostage situation where I’d kept my cool while negotiating for three hours. Where I’d talked a desperate man into surrendering without anyone getting hurt. But that had been a stranger threatening innocent people, not the woman I’d taken into my home, into my bed, who’d used our son as a weapon against me.

“She’s been feeding information to her father, Ray Matthews, a known criminal,” I said, each word precise and cold. “She’s allowed a weapons and drug trafficking enterprise to flourish. Every operation we’ve planned against it, every raid that could’ve stopped them? That’s gone sideways because of her. She planted a recording device on me.”

Lark’s expression shifted, but not to the outrage I’d expected. Instead, something like understanding flickered across her face. “And you know this for certain?”

“Travis found the bug. In the watch she gave me.” I held up my bare wrist. “The one she said was a thank-you gift. Every meeting, every phone call, every plan I discussed while wearing it—her father heard it all.”

“Okay.” Lark nodded slowly. “That’s bad. Really bad. But?—”

“But nothing. She played me. Used me. Made me think—” I cut myself off before I could voice exactly what I’d thought. That she cared. That we were building something real.

That we were building aforever.

“There are always two sides to every story,” Lark said quietly. “Maybe there’s something you don’t understand.”

“It’s not terribly difficult to understand betrayal.” The words came out harsh enough to make her flinch. “Now, where is she?”

Lark studied me for a long moment, then sighed. “Back corner, near Duchess’s stall. But Lachlan—she had some kind of episode. Started hyperventilating, collapsed. She kept saying a name—Sadie. Over and over.”

“Sadie? Who’s Sadie?” The name meant nothing to me. Another lie, probably. Another con.

“I don’t know. But the way she said it…” Lark shook her head. “Like her heart was breaking.”

I pushed past her, though her words followed me down the aisle.Heart breaking. As if Piper Matthews had a heart to break.

I found her exactly where Lark had said, propped against the wall outside Duchess’s stall. A damp washcloth pressed to her forehead, her skin pale as a ghost except for the red splotches where tears had tracked down her cheeks. She looked small, broken, nothing like the woman who’d systematically destroyed everything I’d worked for.