Page 57 of Crossfire Creek Vengeance

A colder one.

One that tied Shade even tighter to everything that had happened since.

The security alert chimed again. Deacon pulled his phone from his pocket and brought up the live feed. The moment the image resolved, he cursed.

“Hell.”

A familiar truck rolled up the drive, slow and deliberate.

“Corbin’s here,” he said.

Jessa was already moving. Noah and Roman followed without hesitation as Deacon headed for the front door. He didn’t wait. He swung it open just as Corbin pulled to a stop near the porch.

Deacon drew his gun and leveled it. “Step out of the truck. Now.”

Corbin opened the door carefully and climbed out, lifting both hands into the air. “Easy,” he said. “I’m not here to start anything.”

Roman’s weapon came up. Noah’s followed. Jessa stepped out beside Deacon, her gun steady in her grip, expression cold and focused.

They stood shoulder to shoulder on the porch, weapons trained on Corbin as he stood in the gravel below them with his hands raised.

Deacon didn’t lower his aim. “You picked the wrong place to drop in unannounced.”

Corbin swallowed hard, eyes flicking between the barrels pointed his way. “I came to talk,” he said. “That’s all.”

Deacon didn’t believe him for a second.

Corbin glanced at the line of guns trained on him and let out a cautious laugh. “Wow,” he said. “Didn’t realize I rated this much attention.”

No one lowered a weapon.

“I’m not the one who wants you dead,” Corbin added quickly. “Or her. Or any of you.”

Deacon kept his gun steady. He didn’t feel even a flicker of reassurance.

“Funny,” Deacon said. “Because it sure doesn’t look that way. Where’ve you been? And why haven’t you answered your phone?”

Corbin’s mouth tightened. “I’ve been lying low, trying to avoid Wynn and any shit he might try to pull me into. As for my phone, I didn’t have it. Wynn took it.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed. “When?”

“Yesterday,” Corbin said. “When I was in the truck with him. He wasn’t exactly in a sharing mood but muttered some nonsense about not wanting to be tracked.” He paused. “I’ve been using a burner until I can get another phone.”

Jessa shifted beside Deacon, tension sharp in her posture.

“Wynn’s gone off the deep end,” Corbin continued. “I mean really gone. The grief, the obsession, the paranoia. He’s not thinking straight anymore.”

Deacon studied him hard. “And you expect us to believe you just wandered over here to give us a warning?”

Corbin shrugged, hands still raised. “Believe it or not, yeah.”

Deacon wasn’t sure he did. “Was Wynn the one who shot at us?”

Corbin hesitated. Just long enough to matter. “I’m not sure,” he finally said. “But if you want my honest opinion, my money’s still on Shade.”

“That’s convenient,” Deacon grumbled.

Corbin ignored the tone. “I heard about what happened at the cemetery. Lauren’s grave. That kind of move feels like Shade. Petty. Vindictive. Trying to erase evidence.”