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Behind me, Taylor goes completely still.

“How much?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Five thousand.”

My daughter’s life.

Her freedom.

Her body.

Sold for less than the cost of the used truck parked beside my equipment barn.

“She killed one of our men,” he continues. “Navarro wants his money back before he decides what to do with her.”

“She said the man she struck was already dead.”

“Mateo wasn’t dead. But he’ll never walk right again.”

Relief hits me in the middle of my fury.

Sage didn’t kill him.

She has spent more than a year believing she took a life, and the men hunting her allowed her to carry that guilt.

“Where is Greg?” I ask.

The man’s expression changes.

It’s slight, but I see it.

He knows him.

“Greg who?”

I press my hand against his wounded shoulder.

He cries out.

“You’re going to tell me where Greg is. Then you’re going to tell me everything you know about Navarro.”

Headlights climb the road.

Two sheriff’s vehicles pass through the gate and race toward us.

The wounded man looks at me with hatred in his eyes.

“This won’t stop them.”

“I’m counting on that.”

Taylor glances at me.

He understands.

Tonight, they came onto ground we control.

They gave us two prisoners, a phone, a name, and confirmation that the man Sage struck is alive.