Ruled

by Elle Kennedy

  “Twenty minute ETA,” the pilot, who hadn’t said a single word in the last hour, suddenly barked.

  Dominik twisted around to pat him on the back. “Thanks, Jose.”

  Reese’s heartbeat accelerated. The prospect of reuniting with . . . God, with who? She didn’t even know who had survived the outpost attack. She’d been too scared to ask Dominik before, but now she had no choice.

  She took a breath and met his gray eyes. “The people who were with me at the outpost . . . do you know if they survived?”

  He nodded.

  “Who?” she whispered.

  “Most of them, I think. I didn’t catch any of the names Hudson told me, except for someone with a D? David maybe?”

  “Davis.” Relief hit her. Davis had been with Nash, so that boded well for Nash surviving. But what about Beckett? Sam?

  Rylan.

  Sloan.

  “Did Hudson say exactly how many survived?”

  “Five or six?”

  “Was it five or was it six?” Reese demanded, swallowing her panic.

  “I don’t know,” he said irritably. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

  The chopper dipped to the right as the pilot changed course slightly. As far as Reese could tell, they’d been traveling west for most of the flight. Now it seemed like they were going northwest. Her heart dropped, because that meant the mountains. Connor’s place, she deduced. But why not Foxworth? Her people would be there.

  I’m going to set your little town on fire . . .

  Her pulse sped up as Ferris’s words returned to her. Was Foxworth gone?

  She peered out the window, but they were too high up to make out any distinguishable landmarks down below. She didn’t see any plumes of smoke to indicate a fire, but for all she knew, her town could be burning.

  It became hard to breathe in those last minutes of their journey. The helicopter started its descent, and sure enough, she saw the snowy mountain caps. She’d been to Connor’s camp only once, but she recognized the landscape. As the chopper dropped lower and lower, she glimpsed the roofs of wood cabins peeking from the trees.

  The helicopter set down in a clearing that appeared to be several miles from the cabins she’d seen from the sky. There were no vehicles or people waiting. Reese gulped again, because if Sloan and Rylan were alive, they’d be standing there waiting for the chopper to land.

  The bird lurched as it touched down. One of Dominik’s men threw open the doors, and everyone climbed out. The still-spinning rotors created a tornado of wind that whipped Reese’s hair around her head.

  Twenty feet away, the second Enforcer chopper was landing. Beyond that, the third. Enforcers streamed out of the birds, and for a second she found herself reaching for a gun that wasn’t holstered to her hip. She had to remind herself that they weren’t her enemies—they were her saviors. These men, these deserters . . . they were outlaws now.

  Dominik had a phone to his ear and was murmuring into it. She was tempted to yank it out of his hand and demand to speak to Sloan. Or Rylan. Or, hell, even Connor, just so he could tell her whether her men were alive. But Dominik ended the call before she had the chance.

  “We’re two miles out, but we have to get there on foot because the trail is too uneven for vehicles to drive on,” he told her. “This was the only place we could land.”

  She nodded.

  “Are you up for it?” he pressed.

  “What do I look like, a pussy?”

  He chuckled. “No, you look like a woman who hasn’t had a real meal in twenty-four hours.”

  Reese shrugged. They’d given her an energy bar on the chopper and she’d chugged at least two bottles of water, but even though she was still hungry, a two-mile hike wasn’t going to kill her.

  “Let’s go,” she said, already charging past him.

  Still chuckling, Dominik followed her toward the brush.

  There wasn’t much talking during the trek toward Connor’s camp, but it wasn’t quiet. Thirty-odd men walking through the slush in heavy boots created a lot of noise: twigs breaking, rifles pushing away branches, the undergrowth of the forest cracking beneath their feet.

  The men matched her rapid pace. They were all eager to reach civilization, but Reese wondered if the Enforcer deserters knew what they were in for. They certainly wouldn’t encounter the same luxuries they had on their compound. Connor’s camp had a generator. It had lights, plumbing, lots of game in the woods. But those weren’t the kind of conveniences that these men were used to, and if the generator ran out of fuel, all those luxuries would go away.

  The woods thinned out about a mile and a half into the hike. After another quarter mile, Reese saw the first cabin. And then another one. She walked faster, feeling energized despite the fact that her stomach now hurt from exertion and no sustenance.

  She stumbled through the trees and reached a path that winded past several more A-frame cabins that looked abandoned. She knew this had once been a wilderness resort where families had come on vacation. As the path widened, she suddenly heard voices. Far more than she’d expected, since Connor ran a small camp of less than ten people.

  This sounded like a lot more than ten people.

  She sprinted toward the noise, then stumbled to a stop when she saw the people. Her people. Or most of them anyway, milling in the huge courtyard. Several hundred yards away was a large log building with a sign that said THE LODGE. Reese spotted Christine and her brothers sitting on the steps, talking with some of the other Foxworth teens—Randy, Sara, Ethan.

  She shifted her gaze and glimpsed Pike standing twenty feet away with his pet wolf at his feet. Sam was with him, down on her knees as she patted the adorable wolf pup.

  Reese’s gaze moved again, and that was when she saw them.

  Sloan and Rylan.

  Sloan saw her first. He broke away from his conversation with Connor. Almost simultaneously, Rylan disengaged from Connor’s other side, and then the two men were racing toward her.

  She wasn’t sure which one of them caught her, but the next thing she knew, she was sandwiched between them both.

  The moment she was in their arms, the tears finally started to fall.

  28

  Reese’s tearful reunion with her men lasted all of five seconds. She’d barely had a chance to hug and kiss them before Connor was marching over and announcing they were holding a meeting in the lodge.

  “Now?” Sloan said irritably, and Reese hid a smile at his grumpy expression. It was rare for him to reveal his unhappiness to outsiders.

  Connor nodded. “We need to run a few things by Reese. We’ll make it quick.” He glanced at her. “Unless you’re not up for it?”

  She looked from him to the men, but the urgency in Connor’s eyes trumped the impatience in theirs. “Yeah, let’s get all the business out of the way now, because once my head hits a pillow, I won’t be waking up for two days.”

  The foursome headed for the large wooden porch, where some of the kids were still congregated. Christine immediately dove off the steps and into Reese’s arms.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay!” the girl cried out, burying her face against Reese’s chest. “I was so worried.”

  “Ah, you know I’m invincible,” Reese said lightly, but the lump in her throat made it hard to maintain the careless tone. Her voice cracked as she added, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  Christine pulled back, her eyelashes glistening with unshed tears. “We all are.” She looked at Sloan and Rylan. “They got us out.”

  Gratitude flooded Reese’s belly, spurring her to place a hand on either man’s arm. “Thank you,” she told them, but her gaze was focused on Sloan. “You kept your promise.”

  “Always,” he said gruffly.

  She was perilously close to tears herself, so she gently stroked Christine’s cheek a
nd said, “We’ll talk later, okay? I need to meet with the other leaders right now.”

  “You should come see my cabin when you’re done,” Christine said with a beaming smile. “It’s really pretty.”

  Reese’s throat tightened even more as she watched the fourteen-year-old scamper off. She’d never seen Christine happier. The girl was changing. They were all changing.

  Inside the lodge, a small group was already gathered at one of the round dining tables. There were dozens of those tables in the wood-paneled room, along with a large kitchen in the back, and a raised section off to one side that featured a huge fireplace and cozy sitting area.

  The change in scenery was jarring. Her perfect little town, with its Main Street and brick buildings, with the town square and the gorgeous gazebo and Graham’s restaurant . . . it was gone. She didn’t know if Ferris had kept his promise to burn it to the ground, but it didn’t matter if he had. They could never return to Foxworth now that its location had been compromised.

  Despite the ache in her heart at losing the town she’d built, she knew that Foxworth wasn’t truly gone. The community lived on. A place where freedom thrived . . . The idea lived on.

  And luckily, Connor’s camp had plenty of space to accommodate her people, as well as the Enforcer deserters.

  She wasn’t surprised to see that one of those deserters was being included in the meeting. Dominik sat next to his sister, once again drawing Reese’s attention to the eerie resemblance between them.

  But it was the familiar face on the other side of the table that made Reese gasp. “Tam! When did you get back?”

  The tall, beautiful brunette gracefully rose from her chair to give Reese a warm hug. The two women had been friends for years. The smuggler and the outlaw queen.

  When Tamara planted a quick kiss on Reese’s lips, a strangled groan came from Rylan.

  “Seriously? Did you really have to do that?” he griped. “Now I’m gonna have a hard-on for the whole meeting.”

  “You always have a hard-on,” Sloan muttered, but his lips were twitching with amusement.

  “Got in this morning,” Tamara told Reese. Her dark eyes twinkled with mischief. “Thanks for not being here to greet me, asshole.”

  “Gee, I’m sorry. Next time, give me a heads-up when you’re coming and I’ll make sure not to face execution that day.”

  Dominik snorted.

  They all took their places at the table, with Rylan and Sloan on either side of Reese. She hid a smile when she noticed their protective postures.

  Connor rested his forearms on the wooden tabletop and glanced at Reese. “Brynn and Mick checked in last night. All their outpost attacks were successful.”

  “What about Garrett and the north?”

  “No word yet, but we weren’t expecting to hear back yet,” Pike spoke up in his gravelly voice.

  There was a flicker of movement, and Reese realized Pike’s wolf pup was sitting in his lap. For fuck’s sake. The man brought his pet to a debriefing?

  “I gotta imagine Garrett is having success too,” Connor said. “His people are good fighters, better than Brynn and Mick’s.”

  Reese turned to Sloan. “What about the Foxworth people we lent them?”

  “On their way back as we speak. They have the coordinates for Con’s camp. Should be here in a few days.”

  Good. Soon all her people would be under her watch again. She turned to Dominik. “And the city? Ferris?”

  “Won’t be a problem for much longer,” Dominik said with a savage smile. “There are still loyalists inside. They’re going to take out Ferris the moment I give the word . . . ?” He left that hanging in an unspoken question.

  Connor and Reese exchanged a long look, and then Con’s gaze shifted to Dominik. “Give the word,” he said briskly. “The sooner the commander is eliminated, the sooner we can make a move against West City.”

  “Every city,” Tamara corrected, her throaty voice capturing everyone’s attention.

  Reese glanced over in surprise. “What?”

  “The outlaws in South Colony are on board. Same with the ones in the east. I didn’t get a chance to hit the north yet, but I assume that once the other three colonies start rebelling, the fourth will join in too. Oh, and the outlaw army in the south? It’s a thousand strong.”

  Everyone stared at Tamara.

  “What? Did you think I was just working on my tan?”

  Rylan snickered.

  Connor sighed.

  “I get shit done,” Tamara said, tossing her thick, shiny mane over one slender shoulder.

  Reese didn’t miss the way Dominik’s gray eyes tracked the brunette’s every move. Hardly a surprise, though. Tamara was the most beautiful woman Reese had ever met.

  In a brusque voice, Connor went over a few more details, including the living arrangements for the influx of people who had swarmed his formerly tiny camp. Everyone agreed that they’d take a couple of days to rest before making any more plans for the rebellion, and then the meeting was adjourned and Reese was being ushered to the door with Sloan’s hand on her arm and Rylan’s fingers laced through hers.

  She didn’t glance back to check the expressions on the faces of Connor and the others, but Tamara’s low laughter tickled her spine. “So that’s happening now, huh?” came the woman’s highly amused observation.

  Reese’s pulse sped up. Yeah. She supposed it was.

  * * *

  Before the door to the cabin had even closed behind them, Reese found herself in Sloan’s embrace again. He held her so tightly that her lungs couldn’t draw oxygen, and she gave a weak laugh as she batted at his rock-hard chest. “Sloan. You’re crushing me.”

  Rylan chuckled and stepped toward them. “Cut the man some slack, gorgeous. He’s had a rough couple of days.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “Rougher than being locked up in the Enforcer compound and sentenced to death?”

  Just like that, the relief in Sloan’s eyes transformed into overwhelming concern. “What do you need, sweetheart? Food? Water? We’ll get you whatever you need.”

  “First and foremost, a shower,” she confessed. “I feel dirty.”

  Rylan’s eyes gleamed devilishly. “Dirty, huh?”

  He looked ready to offer a filthy suggestion, but Reese gently touched his cheek. “And I could use ten minutes to myself. I . . .” She swallowed. “I need to collect my thoughts.”

  Without argument, Rylan firmly led her to the bathroom door. “Soap and towels under the sink. Try not to use too much hot water or Con will freak.”

  The kiss she planted on his cheek was soft with gratitude. “Thanks. I’ll be right out.”

  Once she was alone, she let out a long, shaky breath. She could hear Sloan and Rylan moving around in the cabin, talking in low voices. Footsteps thudded against the hardwood. A door creaked open and then clicked shut.

  Reese turned on the shower, then stripped out of her muddy, sweat-stained clothes and stepped under the spray. She kept it hot only for the few minutes she needed to soap up, then switched the temperature to lukewarm as she rinsed off and washed her hair.

  She didn’t know what she was going to say to them. She’d done a torturous amount of thinking when she was locked up in that interrogation room. Questioning, obsessing, vacillating. A part of her still wasn’t convinced she was the woman they needed or deserved.

  The other part of her was smacking her internally for even contemplating letting either one of them go.

  When she emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, she found that Sloan and Rylan had laid out a feast for her. Fresh fruit, cheese, and best of all—bourbon.

  “Oh thank fuck,” she said as she accepted the glass Sloan handed her. “You don’t know how badly I need this.”

  Both men watched in amusement as she drained the entire glass.

 
The alcohol warmed her belly and sent a lethargic buzzing through her blood. “Damn, that’s good.” She flicked up a questioning eyebrow. “You had time to load up the booze before you evacuated Foxworth?”

  Sloan nodded. “We took as much as we could. But our priority was getting our people out.”

  Rylan spoke up in a quiet voice. “And they’re all safe, thanks to Sloan,” he said, rubbing Sloan’s shoulder with his palm.

  She didn’t miss the gentleness of that touch or the way Sloan leaned into it, and for some reason it brought her comfort knowing that they were able to bring each other comfort.

  Adjusting the bottom of her towel so it remained closed, Reese sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed a piece of bread.

  Sloan lowered himself beside her. “Teresa . . .” He searched her face. “Did they hurt you? Did they . . . rape you?”

  She was quick to shake her head. “No. They just locked me in a room while they waited for the death order to be signed. Ferris decided I wasn’t an ideal candidate for torture, that I’d rather die than give up any information.” Her stomach churned, and not because of the food she was introducing to her empty system. “He believed I’d let all my people die before I’d talk.”

  Her gaze locked with Sloan’s, then Rylan’s. “He’s wrong, though. I would never let anyone I care about suffer just so I could exact revenge on the council.”

  “We know,” Sloan said.

  “Do you?” She studied his rugged features, seeking any trace of doubt. But there was none. “When I found out Ferris was sending men to Foxworth, I tried to get Dominik to help me, to strike some sort of deal.” Her tone became wry. “I didn’t realize you guys had already beaten me to it.”

  Rylan laughed. “Hey, Con’s been telling you for months that Dominik could be trusted. You were just too stubborn to believe it.”

  “I’m starting to think stubborn might be my middle name.”

  “Nah, your middle name is . . .” Rylan paused in thought. “Sexy as fuck—how about that? Does that work for you?”

  Laughter bubbled in her throat. God, she’d missed him. This man with his readily available jokes and sparkling blue eyes, the man who never took anything too seriously.