Page 30 of Gentle Warrior

A cold weight crashed into Moose’s chest, icy and relentless. This wasn’t just a message. It was a gauntlet thrown down—a cruel, twisted challenge meant to shatter their resolve and gut their mission: to keep Elena safe.

Moose’s knuckles whitened as he clenched the grip of his gun, incredulous that the gang would stoop to playing mind games.

He keyed his mic, voice low but edged with dark humor, trying to shake the tension. “Well, Latin Counts,” he muttered, “if you wanted to get our attention… congratulations. Consider it grabbed.”

Static crackled faintly over the comm.

Bear’s gravelly voice came through, dry and steady: “You planning to write them back, Moose? Maybe throw in a nice ‘Thanks for the heads up’?”

Moose allowed himself a tight, humorless chuckle. “Thought about it. Might send flowers too. Maybe ‘Get lost’ in fancy calligraphy.”

Jax’s nervous laugh spilled over the channel. “You guys are something else. Makes me wonder how much coffee you drink at the farm.”

Moose didn’t soften. “Copy that. Hold your positions. Stay sharp. They may be playing mind games, sure—but we play to win.”

His eyes locked back on the blood-smeared rock, then to the treeline where Enzo moved away like a ghost.

This wasn’t random cruelty. It was calculated: a warning etched in defiance.

The fight for Banner had moved beyond bullets. It was a battle for survival, for steel nerve in the face of fear and Moose was set to see it through.

He barked into the comm one last time, voice hard as iron. “Keep channels clear. Watch your sectors. Stay sharp. We don’t give an inch. Not now. Not ever.”

Moose kept his gaze locked on the clearing as Shadow’s voice whispered urgently in his ear, “I’ve got the license plate number.”

The tiny comm nestled deep in his canal crackled softly with the news, sending a jolt through Moose.

He immediately keyed his mic. “Link, you there? Can you run this plate for us? We need intel fast.”

A moment later, Link’s calm, clipped voice replied through the comms. “Online and scanning. Send it over.”

Moose relayed the number carefully, fingers tightening around his gun. Outside, the Protectors remained locked down, every sense alert.

Minutes stretched, then Link’s voice returned. “Plate belongs to a rental registered under a shell company. Possible ties to known Latin Counts associates. Running deeper crosschecks now.”

Moose exhaled slowly. The trail was warm. They were closing in.

21 - ELENA

As the first soft hues of pink and gold brushed the horizon, Elena stepped out of the farmhouse. The cool morning air caressed her skin. Around her, birds began their tentative songs, dew glistened on blades of grass, yet beneath the peaceful surface, a subtle unease tugged at her senses—though she could not pinpoint why.

Walking beside her, Nancy carried carrots for the goats, their footsteps crunching against the worn dirt path as they approached the goat pen. At their heels darted Salty, the three-month-old puppy with his long black fur flecked with sprinkles of white. He zigzagged eagerly between their feet, his fluffy tail wagging wildly as he bounded after a fluttering leaf, then spun around to chase his own shadow. Salty’s boundless energy was contagious, and despite the morning’s quiet tension, Elena found herself smiling.

Unaware of the shadows that had edged too close during the night or the chilling message etched in blood-red just beyond the treeline, Elena focused on the simple tasks ahead. The sun was rising, offering warmth and safety, but at the back of her mind, the fragile calm felt almost too perfect, as if the farm itself was holding its breath, waiting.

Moose appeared from the side door with a steaming mug of coffee in hand. Fully dressed in tactical gear, every detail sharp and purposeful under the early light, he carried a quiet strength that filled the space around him. Elena’s breath caught. He looked—she couldn’t deny it—absolutely phenomenal.

His eyes met hers for a fleeting moment, and she felt her cheeks flush. She quickly looked away, a warmth spreading through her chest. Moose was just so damned attractive. Still, here she was, trying to focus, the butterflies twisting uneasily in her stomach.

Before the moment could stretch further, Salty dashed between Elena’s legs, narrowly missing her feet before launching himself toward Nancy’s skirt with an enthusiastic bark. Nancy looked down and gave a small smile, her eyes softening. She gently reached down to scratch behind Salty’s ears.

Elena watched Moose glance toward Nancy nearby. Nancy brushed a stray leaf from one of the goats’ backs, and Moose’s expression softened as he stepped closer.

Moose approached Nancy, and she met his gaze with a bright, steady smile. Instead of words, she lifted the handful of carrots she carried, holding them out toward Moose like a bouquet. He reached gently to take the carrots, his hand brushing Nancy’s shoulder in a comforting touch before giving it a quick, affectionate squeeze.

Nancy’s smile deepened, and she let out a small, contented hum—a sound Elena recognized as her marker of calm happiness.

Moose’s expression softened further as he shared this quiet moment with his mother. There was something deeply tender in him, a quiet strength that Elena could sense but did not yet fully understand.