Chapter 6 - The Cabin on the Rim
The Mogollon Rim rose like a black, jagged spine against the midnight sky.
The ancient Ford Bronco rattled along the unpaved logging road, its headlights cutting through swirling ribbons of mountain dust and fragrant pine needles. Damon drove with one hand on the wheel, his eyes constantly checking the rear-view mirror, while his other hand rested near the Kimber .45 on the console.
In the passenger seat, Selena had finally succumbed to exhaustion, her head tilted against the cold passenger window, her breathing slow and deep. In the back, nestled between an old wool blanket and Damon’s spare tactical duffel, Ruby slept soundly, her little fingers still clutching the ear of her stuffed rabbit.
Two hours earlier, Damon had made contact with Marcus via a disposable burner phone. Marcus was wounded—a flesh wound to the shoulder—but alive. The strike team had been entirely eradicated. The local police, paid well to look the other way until the shooting stopped, were now swarming the smoking ruins of the Paradise Valley estate under the guise of an "industrial gas explosion."
The syndicate in Phoenix was secure, but the war had just begun.
Julian Vance had crossed the final line, and Damon had no intention of returning to the city until Vance’s entire organization was burned to the roots.
The Bronco pulled into a hidden gravel clearing flanked by towering ponderosa pines. At the center of the clearing sat a low-slung, cedar-log cabin, completely invisible from the logging road.
“Selena,” Damon said softly, shifting the truck into park.
She woke instantly, her eyes darting around the dark woods in momentary panic until she saw his silhouette.
“Where are we?” she asked, her voice raspy with sleep.
“My private sanctuary,” Damon replied, killing the engine. The sudden silence of the deep forest rushed in to fill the cab. “No phones. No records. Nobody knows this place exists except Marcus and my late father.”
Damon stepped out into the crisp mountain air. It was twenty degrees colder here than in the Phoenix valley. He opened the rear door, carefully lifting Ruby into his arms without waking her, while Selena climbed out stiffly, wrapping her thin sweater around her shivering frame.
Damon unlocked the heavy cedar door of the cabin and flipped a switch.
Soft, warm light filled the open living room. A massive river-stone fireplace dominated the far wall, flanked by comfortable leather furniture, polished pine floors, and a well-stocked kitchen. It was warm, clean, and surprisingly domestic—a world away from the cold marble and steel of his fortress in the city.
Damon carried Ruby into the back bedroom, laying her gently on a thick down comforter, tucking the blankets around her shoulders. He lingered for a moment, watching the little girl’s chest rise and fall peacefully, before stepping back into the living room.
Selena was standing near the fireplace, shivering uncontrollably. The adrenaline that had kept her moving through the gun battle, the tunnels, and the long drive had finally evaporated, leaving behind pure, unadulterated shock.
Damon walked into the kitchen, retrieved a first-aid kit and a bottle of bourbon, and returned to the hearth.
“Sit,” he commanded gently, indicating the leather sofa.
Selena sat, her teeth chattering.
Damon knelt on the rug before her. He uncorked the bourbon, poured two fingers into a glass, and handed it to her. “Drink this. It’ll stop the shaking.”
She took the glass with two trembling hands and swallowed a mouthful. The burning liquor hit her stomach like liquid fire, forcing a sharp cough from her lips, but the shivers immediately began to subside.
Without a word, Damon took a bottle of antiseptic and a clean cloth from the kit. He reached up, gently brushing her dark hair behind her ear, and began cleaning the dried blood from the cut on her cheek.
Selena flinched at the sting, hissing softly through her teeth.
“I’m sorry,” Damon whispered.
“It’s fine,” she said, her voice barely audible. She looked down at his arm, seeing the blood-soaked linen bandage he had hastily tied around his own forearm in the greenhouse. “You’re hurt worse than I am.”
“I’m used to it,” Damon said, his fingers working with surprising delicacy as he applied butterfly stitches to close the wound on her face. “You shouldn't have had to see this, Selena. Neither should Ruby.”
Selena looked into his dark, storm-gray eyes. They were only inches apart. She could smell the scent of gunpowder, cedar, and the clean, sharp soap he used.
“Why did they want you dead, Damon?” she asked, using his first name for the very first time.
Damon stopped his hands. He looked at the floor for a long moment before answering.
“Because I refused to let Julian Vance run fentanyl through our Phoenix freight depots,” he said, his voice cold with absolute conviction. “I run gambling. I run high-stakes loans. I control the ports and the political favors. But I don't poison children, and I don't let cartels build labs in my city. Victor Hail wanted the billion-dollar payout Vance offered. I told them no. So they decided to replace me.”
He reached for a strip of sterile gauze, securing it over her cheek.
“If Ruby hadn't walked into that conference room,” Damon continued, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper, “I would have gotten into that Suburban ten minutes later. I would have been burned alive at my own front gates.”
He lifted his eyes to hers.
“You saved my life, Selena. Both of you.”
Tears welled in Selena’s eyes, but she didn't look away. “You saved us too. My ex-husband… Ruby’s father… he was a runner for Vance’s crew down in Nogales. He beat me until I took Ruby and fled north in the middle of the night. That’s why I was so scared today. When I saw that man planting the bomb, I recognized the crest on his wrist. It was Vance’s crew. I thought… I thought they had finally come to take my baby back.”
Damon’s entire frame went rigid. A dark, terrifying aura seemed to roll off him, colder than the mountain wind howling outside the logs.
“Her father works for Vance?” Damon asked softly.
“He’s Vance’s nephew,” Selena confessed, a sob breaking through her lips. “He swore if I ever left him, he’d hunt me down, take Ruby, and leave me in a ditch. When I applied for the cleaning job at your estate, I thought your security was the safest place in Arizona. I thought no one would ever dare breach your walls.”
Damon reached out. His large, calloused hand cupped her uninjured cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear.
“Listen to me very carefully, Selena,” he said, his voice vibrating with absolute, lethal certainty. “No one is taking Ruby. And no one is touching you ever again. Julian Vance’s nephew, Julian Vance himself, and every man who wears their crest will be dead before the sun sets tomorrow.”
Selena looked into his eyes and, for the first time in her life, she felt no fear of a dangerous man.
She felt protected.
May you like
She leaned her face into his palm, closing her eyes, letting the heavy, comforting warmth of Damon Reyes shield her from the horrors of the world.
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