Petty’s face was smudged with dirt. Back in the woods, Franco hadn’t noticed the little things, but standing this close, he finally did.
He reached out, wanting to wipe it away. Petty quickly pulled back. “If you hadn’t shown up, I’d already be down the mountain,” she said, barely looking at him.
His hand dropped, awkward and tense. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. “I’ll take you down the mountain. I promised I’d stay with you,” he said, his voice stubborn.
Hans, standing right beside Petty, frowned. Was it just him, or was Franco sounding a little desperate now?
Is this the new tactic? Not working with force, so now he’s trying to play the sympathy card?
But Petty wasn’t having it. “I’m safe with Hans and Parrish’s people. And honestly, you should be out looking for Laura instead of wasting time with me.”
She only meant to distract Franco, but she saw his face darken. First she talked about Hans, now she mentioned someone else—she just kept bringing up other people.
“She’s nobody. She doesn’t deserve to keep coming up,” Franco cut in, stepping even closer to her. “I’ve never cared about her.”
Hans moved fast, pulling Petty behind him, putting himself between her and Franco. “Now you think it’s time to talk? Too late for that. Who knows if you’re lying or not? Just get out of here.”
He blocked Franco’s arm as he tried to grab Petty. For a moment, Franco’s eyes went cold and dangerous, seeing Hans standing there protectively, like he meant to shield her from anything.
“Out of the way,” Franco gritted out.
A gunshot cracked through the air.
In the trees, Laura was staring at the scene—at Petty tucked safely behind Hans. Her hand shook around her pistol, hatred pouring out of her.

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