Page 80 of Driven By Impulse

“Why?” Hanna couldn’t wrap her head around it. “You were well paid and well-treated. You could have easily become a deputy in the department after a few years. Why throw it all away for a life like this?”

“Because I live with my grandmother,” Carson bit out. “Because that’s embarrassing and I wanted to make it on my own, without having to wait for my bitch of a boss to decide I was ready.”

It clicked into place, and Hanna felt a surge of ancient, universal disappointment. “You didn’t like working for a woman.”

Carson snarled. “Magnus showed me a different way. The church showed me a different way, back to how things were, when there was no question of who held the power in the home or in the workforce. And Bryce helped me to…help the movement.”

Hanna sighed. He was so young, barely out of teens, and he was so vulnerable to the propaganda and hate, looking for a person to blame for why their lot in life was hard, angry and vicious and easily to manipulate.

“Your grandmother would be very disappointed in you,” she said quietly.

“I don’t care,” Carson spat. “After today, she’ll no longer be able to tell me what to do.”

Hanna’s heart dropped. “What did you do to her?”

Carson shook his head. “I didn’t do anything. But Bryce told me that if I played my part, there would be a role for me in the church.”

Hanna shot her gaze to Bryce Iverson. His eyes gleamed with pride, like he could tell exactly how angry the conversation was making Hanna. Angry didn’t even begin to cover it, truth be told, but she didn’t exactly have the luxury of getting emotional, not then, when they were surrounded, without backup, and trying to stay alive.

“As you can see, Sheriff,” Iverson said, and the title was sarcastic on his lips, like he didn’t believe she could hold such a position either, “you no longer have control of Bitterroot. This town has always belonged to Ralstons. And now, we’re helping them to take it back.”

“Take it back to the Stone Age,” Hanna muttered. “I suppose I should be flattered that you felt the need to put a traitor in my department.”

“Oh.” Delight lit up Bryce’s eyes. “We put more than one traitor in your department.”

Hanna followed his gaze, and at the end of the long driveway, the door to a black SUV opened and…

“Frankie.” His name came out on a whisper. “No.”

“Yes,” Iverson replied, practically gleeful. “Francis here doesn’t have the same…natural inclination for our teachings as young Carson here. But he does have a sister with cancer. And let me just say that I pay much better than the Bitterroot County Sheriff’s office.”

Hanna surged forward, but before she was able to slam her fist into Iverson’s nose, two of the Iron Daggers caught her and dragged her back, pinning her arms tightly behind her.

“Frankie, please,” her words choked in her throat. “Please tell me it’s not true.”

“I’m sorry, Hanna,” he said, the apology carrying through the canyon, hollow and echoing. “I’m so sorry. I tried… to tried to make it right…”

And no doubt that had been when they’d stabbed him in the gut.

“I’m done with this,” Iverson said, pulling a gun from his waistband and touching the cold metal right to Hanna’s forehead. “You’ve been in my business for long enough, and I won’t have you trying to take down Magnus Ralston’s good work any longer. He is making real change in our community, and you can’t stop him.”

“He’s a bully,” Hanna bit back. “And so are you.”

The click of the gun ricocheted through the quiet mountain air.

“Bryce, no!” Grace shouted. “Leave her alone!”

It was a second of distraction, but in the time it took for Iverson to turn his head toward Grace, a shot rang out.

Hanna waited to feel the life leaving her body, but there was no blood spilling into her eyes, no searing pain…

Just Iverson on his knees on the ground, clutching bloody fingers to his chest, the gun several feet away.

And then Hanna heard it, the roar of motorcycles rounding a turning, not three or five, but a dozen, maybe two. The sound was coming from two directions, she realized, when several members of The Princes spilled out of the forest, following the service road. Hanna ducked, letting the confusion of the moment cover her as she yanked out of the arms of the two Iron Daggers. She grabbed for Grace and dragged her along until they were covered by the shield of bikers.

“Hey, Sheriff, need a ride?” Ash lifted his visor to tease.

“She needs a firm talking to about rescue missions with no back up,” Nicco muttered. “And maybe more.”