Page 135 of Finding His Redemption

“But, Lila, what if he does feel the same way? What if you’re both just standing there, afraid to take the first step?”

Before Lila could answer, the sound of an engine made them all turn. A black SUV was coming up the drive, moving fast enough to kick up a cloud of dust. Nessie’s stomach dropped as she recognized the vehicle.

Brandt.

He never came to the ranch unless something was wrong. Very wrong.

The SUV skidded to a stop near the main house, and Brandt climbed out, his usual composed demeanor nowhere to be seen. His suit was wrinkled, his tie loosened, and there was something wild in his eyes that made Nessie’s mouth go dry.

“Where’s Jax?” he called out, scanning the area.

“Working with the horses,” Johanna said, rising from her chair. “What’s wrong?”

But Brandt was already moving, jogging toward the corral where Jax and Jonah trained one of Walker’s new mares. Nessie followed, her heart hammering against her ribs. Behind her, she could hear Lila and Johanna’s footsteps.

Jax looked up as they approached, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern as he took in Brandt’s appearance. Hehanded the mare’s lead rope to Oliver, who’d been watching the training session from the fence.

“What is it?” Jax asked.

Brandt glanced around at the gathering crowd—Walker had emerged from the barn, and several of the other men were drifting over from their various tasks—then he zeroed in on Jax’s again. “I’m gonna ask you flat-out. Did you do it?”

“Do what?” Nessie asked. “He didn’t do anything. We haven’t left the ranch in over a week.”

“That go for all of you?”

“What are you accusing my guys of?” Walker asked.

Brandt’s jaw worked for a moment before he spoke. “Aleksandr Sarkisian is dead.”

The words knocked all the air from Nessie’s lungs. Her vision grayed at the edges, and if not for Jax’s arm sliding around her, she would have collapsed.

Dead.

Alek was dead.

It was over.

“When?” The word scraped her throat raw.

“Three days ago. LAPD found him in his penthouse.”

Three days. He’d been dead for three days, and she was only finding out now. Three days of freedom she hadn’t even known she had.

Jax rubbed her back in soothing circles. “How?”

“Single gunshot to the head. Could be suicide. Could be one of his enemies—he had plenty. Could be his father cleaning house.” He met Jax’s gaze, then looked at the other men. “I had to make sure it wasn’t any of you.”

“Never been to LA,” River said and took his hat off to wipe sweat off his forehead. He dragged a hand through his wildly curling hair before replacing the hat and looking at his friends. “Any of you?”

He got a chorus of nos from everyone except Jax, Ghost, Walker, and Boone.

Nessie’s mind flashed to a conversation she’d overheard last week. Boone and Ghost had been gone for three days—something about a horse auction. She hadn’t thought much of it, but they hadn’t returned with any horses. Actually, they hadn’t even taken a horse trailer with them.

The timing lined up perfectly.

She glanced between the four men, noting their carefully blank expressions.

Oh, God.