And I'm not doing it alone.
7
FINN
My brothers arrive like a storm front, five vehicles appearing at staggered intervals over the course of an hour. A tactical approach we developed years ago, when our military training overlapped briefly before we each found our own paths.
Sawyer first, the eldest, his sheriff's SUV carrying the weight of legal authority and enough firepower to outfit a small army. Then Elias, the game warden whose knowledge of these forests rivals my own. Boone arrives third, his medical kit more comprehensive than most emergency rooms. Luke follows, the youngest and our best long range marksman despite his quiet demeanor.
The McKenna brothers, reunited for a single purpose. To eliminate a threat to someone under our protection.
I watch from the deck as they gather in the clearing, a family reunion with tactical gear instead of casseroles. Nova stands beside me, silent but observant, taking in the family resemblance that runs through all of us. The height, the build, the watchful eyes that miss nothing.
"They all look like you," she says quietly. "It's a little intimidating."
"McKenna genes run strong." I glance at her, gauging her reaction to the assembled firepower that represents my family. "You okay with all this?"
"You mean am I okay with five mountain men with military training hunting down my stalker?" She offers a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "It's better than the alternative."
The alternative.Both of us facing Vance alone, outmanned and vulnerable. Or worse, Nova facing him without me, if he managed to separate us.
The thought sends ice through my veins, hardening my resolve. This ends today. One way or another.
"Time to make introductions," I say, guiding her down the steps with a hand at the small of her back. A gesture too intimate for mere client and protector, but I'm beyond caring what my brothers might notice.
They fall silent as we approach, five pairs of McKenna blue eyes assessing Nova with a mixture of curiosity and protective instinct. I know what they see. A beautiful woman who looks nothing like the glamorous pop star from magazine covers and billboards. Simpler. Softer. More real.
"Nova," I say, "meet the McKenna brothers. Sawyer, Elias, Boone, Cade you know, and Luke."
She steps forward with the easy confidence of someone accustomed to being the center of attention, offering her hand first to Sawyer as the eldest. "Thank you for coming. I know this isn't how any of you planned to spend your day."
Sawyer takes her hand, his expression softening slightly. "Family business. No thanks needed."
"Still. I appreciate it."
The simple sincerity in her voice doesn’t go over their heads. They were probably expecting entitlement, fear or Hollywooddramatics. Not this straightforward gratitude from a woman facing down a killer with calm dignity.
I watch something shift in their expressions, a collective reassessment. Whatever they expected from Nova Wilde, this isn't it. And I feel a surge of irrational pride, as if her strength is somehow a reflection on me.
"Let's move inside," I say, not liking how exposed we are in the clearing. "We have planning to do."
They follow us into the cabin, bringing with them the controlled energy of men accustomed to dangerous situations. Within minutes, the living room has been transformed into a tactical headquarters, maps spread across the coffee table, weapons checked and rechecked, communication devices tested.
Nova watches it all with quiet interest, staying close to my side but not interfering. Observing the swift efficiency of brothers who have trained for situations like this since childhood.
"Alright," Sawyer says finally, taking natural command as the eldest. "What's our situation?"
I outline what we know about Vance. Ex-military with specialized training. Intimate knowledge of Nova's security protocols. Potentially in the area and watching the property. Dangerous, obsessed, and growing more desperate with each passing day.
"The tracks Cade found yesterday were approximately a mile east," I continue, pointing to the location on the topographical map. "Fresh enough to indicate he's still in the area, likely setting up observation posts to study our routines."
"If he's military trained, he won't approach blindly," Elias says, his forest ranger eyes scanning the map with professional assessment. "He'll establish multiple vantage points, determine our patrol patterns, look for blind spots."
"And he'll have escape routes planned," Boone adds. "Secondary and tertiary fallback positions if he's compromised."
"He won't expect this many of us," Luke says quietly, speaking for the first time. "That's our advantage."
"We need to sweep the perimeter," Sawyer decides, shifting into tactical planning. "Teams of two, grid search pattern. If he's watching, we flush him out. If he runs, we pursue. If he engages."
