Page 34 of Untamed Sinner

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He doesn't ask what for. He just nods, waits for me to get in before closing the door, and walks around to the driver's side.

As we pull out of the driveway, I stare out the window at the passing landscape. Trees. Open fields. The kind of Montana scenery that's supposed to be peaceful but just makes me feel exposed. I wonder how Lily’s managed to live here.

I can feel him glancing at me periodically, like he's checking something.

"You're staring," I say without looking at him.

"I'm assessing."

"Bullshit." I turn now, meeting his gaze. "You've been assessing me since we left the house. What's the verdict?"

"You move well."

That isn’t what I expected him to say. I arch a brow. "That's it? I move well?"

He shrugs. "It's a compliment."

"It's an observation." I shift again, deliberately this time, and watch his jaw tighten. "But I'll take it."

He refocuses on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary.

"Like a weapon," he says after a long pause.

Frowning, I look at him again. "What?"

"You move like a weapon."

It sounds like another compliment. I don't know why that makes my chest tighten. Maybe because it's true. Maybe because he sees it—sees me—in a way most people don't.

Not that I let other people see me, but apparently Hendricks didn’t get the memo.

The rest of the drive passes in silence.

The Turner Ranch was an extensive cattle operation that served as a cover for drugs, guns, and human trafficking, but as far as I know, it’s been defunct since Gabriel took custody of Cole Turner.

Hendricks parks a quarter mile out and kills the engine. "We go in quiet," he says, checking his sidearm. "No lights. No noise. If someone's here, we abort."

I nod, pulling my Glock from the holster at my hip. I check the magazine with practiced efficiency, then slide it back into place.

We move through the trees parallel to the gravel drive in silence. I stay close but not too close, matching his pace without needing instruction. It’s not like this is my first rodeo.

When we reach the edge of the property, he signals for me to stop. We crouch behind a fallen log, and he scans the house through the scope on his weapon.

No lights. No movement. No vehicles. I would have been surprised if there were.

"Clear," he murmurs.

We approach from the east side, using the shadows for cover. We wait a second and then skulk to the back door.

It’s unlocked—the first red flag. After the raid, Gabriel would have made sure the house was secured.

Hendricks pushes it open slowly, weapon raised, and steps inside.

The house has been torn apart. Furniture overturned. Drawers pulled out and emptied. Papers scattered across the floor like confetti.