Page 84 of Walking Away

Something moved at the edge of the clearing—a darker shape against the light. She squinted.

A shepherd, motionless, carved from shadow and stone.

Rosie.

Hope punched through the fear.If Rosie was here, then maybe—Burke was too.

Warm breath brushed her neck. Jason’s reflection filled the glass beside hers. His hand curved around her waist, his mouth close to her ear.

“Don’t you remember how good it is between us?” he whispered. “You love it when I kiss you here…” His teeth grazed her skin.

She recoiled, revulsion cutting through terror.

Jason’s grip clamped harder, smirk turning cold. “Don’t pretend.”

He spun her from the window and shoved her onto the bed. The nightgown whispered under his hands as he pinned her wrists. His mouth crashed against hers—violent, suffocating.

“You think that mountain sheriff can give you what I can?” he growled. “You’ll beg for me.”

For a second, she thought maybe no one was coming.Rosie had been a trick of the light. Burke wasn’t here. I’m alone.

Something inside her snapped—quiet, clean, like glass. Fright honed to fury.

She twisted beneath him, voice cracked but clear. “You couldn’t even fill his boots.”

His arrogance fractured into rage. “I’m done playing nice.”

Outside

Through the commander’s optics, the struggle was unmistakable—the victim pinned and fighting.

“Exigent entry—go,” Quinn snapped.

“Copy,” came the reply. “Breach on my mark.”

“Teams—breach.”

The Breach

Burke hit the door first, rifle up. He saw Jason’s weight trapping Caitlin and charged—ripping him away by the collar.

Jason swung wild. His fist cracked across Burke’s face, snapping his head sideways. The sheriff staggered, vision flashing white.

Jason didn’t stop. He slammed a forearm across Burke’s throat, driving him into the wall. Air vanished. Burke’s ribs lit with pain.

He twisted free and answered with a brutal hook that snapped Jason’s head aside. Jason reeled, came again, teeth bared.

Burke ducked the punch and drove him into the dresser. Wood split. A lamp skittered across the floor. Jason’s elbow cut for his ribs—blocked. Burke hammered him into the wall, forearm braced across his shoulders.

Jason thrashed, brute strength keeping him upright—until a snarl split the air.

Rosie launched.

Her teeth clamped on Jason’s forearm, puncturing deep. His scream tore through the cabin as his knees buckled. She yanked down, dragging him to the floor.

“Rosie, release!” Burke barked. His breath came rough and uneven. For the first time he saw her—white silk torn, wrists marked red, eyes wide and searching for him. She was alive. The sight cut through everything—rage, noise, blood—until all that remained was her.

Rosie snapped back instantly, holding her ground, a low growl rumbling from deep inside her chest.