“Yeah, but at least they’re safe in the city, as long as they follow the GC’s rules. Out here you can’t afford to be that naive.”
“How long were you married?”
“Three years.” He tugged on her arm. “C’mere. I don’t like how far away you are.”
They were only a foot apart, but she humored him by nestling close to his side again. His fingers immediately slid through her hair, stroking it gently, and she couldn’t deny she liked this sweet, relaxed part of their relationship as much as she liked the raw passion of it.
Something had shifted between them since the night they’d driven back from Lennox’s. Connor was still as gruff and controlled as he’d always been, but he was also more tender. He laughed more. And he’d even warmed up to Hudson’s wolf. He no longer frowned when Hope scurried at his feet, and he never complained when the wolf pup slept at the foot of the bed on the nights that Hudson stole her away from Pike.
“Why didn’t you guys stay on the farm?”
“Hmmm?” he said absently, toying with her hair.
“You said that Maggie’s father raised her and her sisters on a farm, right?”
“Yeah. I came across it after my mother died. I split from my other group, handed leadership over to one of the other men, and hit the open road. That’s where I met Maggie.”
“So why didn’t you stay there?”
He sighed. “Because it burned down.”
“Oh shit. How?”
“Maggie’s father had a heart attack. We were asleep upstairs and didn’t hear him get up, but I guess he woke up in pain and went downstairs. He lit a candle, and then he must have dropped it when he passed out. The fire spread to the drapes and it all went to shit from there. The smoke woke me up, and I got Maggie and her sisters out of there. Found Darren downstairs and hauled him out too, but he died on the front lawn while we watched the house burn.”
As an ache shuddered through her heart, Hudson reached for Connor’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
“I think that’s why Maggie was so insistent on staying in that last camp. The house reminded her of the one she’d grown up in. It reminded her of home.” His chest rose sharply again. “And, well, you know the rest. I made the wrong call, and my people paid the price for it.”
Trepidation scurried up her spine, but she forced herself to continue on the course she hadn’t even realized she’d set. “Connor… I have to ask you something.”
He gave her hair a gentle tug, tilting her head so he could see her eyes. “What is it?”
“The day that Maggie died… You said you saw Dominik leaving your camp and talking to his men.”
“Yeah…” Wariness creased his forehead.
She took a breath. “What did he look like?”
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Please. Just humor me and tell me what he looked like. Hair color, eye color, all the details you can remember.”
Connor sat up and rubbed his jaw, looking unsettled by the request. “Dark hair,” he muttered. “In a buzz cut. Dark eyes, more black than brown.”
Her heart sped up. “Any facial hair?”
“Goatee, but it was more scruffy than groomed. Why?”
A sick feeling crawled up to her throat. “What else? Was he tall? Short?”
“Average height, I guess. Definitely shorter than me, but taller than you. Stocky build, barrel chest…” Looking suspicious, he repeated himself. “Why?”
“Because…” She exhaled slowly. “I don’t think the man you saw was Dominik.”
“Bullshit. It was him.”
She shook her head. “Dominik has blond hair and light eyes. And he’s tall, even taller than you. Six foot five.”
Connor was stricken for a moment before responding with the firm shake of his head. “It was him, Hudson.”
“Did his men call him Dominik?”
“Well… no,” he admitted with a frown. “They called him ‘boss.’ And ‘sir.’”
“But nobody ever called him by his name?”
“Where are you going with this?”
“The man you described…” She choked down her nausea. “That’s Knox.”
Connor’s alarmed gaze flew to hers.
“You described Knox, Con. The hair, the eyes, the goatee. And he’s Dominik’s second-in-command – the men always address him as ‘sir’ in the field.” Hudson’s heart continued to race. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the relief in confirming that her brother hadn’t killed Connor’s wife, or the rage of knowing that Knox had.
“No,” Connor said stiffly. “You’re wrong.”
“I’ve seen Dominik. I know what he looks like, and that’s not it. I’ve also seen Knox, and trust me, that is it.” She met his mistrustful gaze. “This means… you’ve been after the wrong man.”
The accusation turned his features to stone. “No. It just means I need to add another man’s name to that list. Because even if Knox is the one who pulled the trigger, who the fuck do you think gave the orders, Hudson?”