Mack leaned back in his office chair, the glow from his wall of security monitors washing his face in pale light. One feed in particular had his full attention—Viola, tiptoeing through the hallway like she was on some kind of espionage mission.
She stopped at the front door, biting her lip and glancing around. He smirked. What exactly do you think you're doing, little rebel?
She slipped on her sunglasses—inside the house—then eased the door open. Mack chuckled under his breath. "Smooth, Vi. Really smooth."
Just as she made it halfway down the drive, a knock on his office door broke the moment.
"Come in," Mack called, still watching the screen.
The door creaked open and his best friend, Cole, stepped inside, a grin tugging at his mouth. "Tell me you're not creeping on her with the cameras again."
"I'm not creeping," Mack said evenly, eyes still locked on the feed. "I'm supervising. Big difference."
Cole laughed. "Right. And I suppose 'supervising' is what you call it when your jaw tightens every time she gets within ten feet of the gate?"
Mack didn't answer. Viola was now peering over the hood of her car like she was checking for snipers.
Cole shook his head. "Man, you need a hobby. Speaking of—grab your gear. Let's go hunting tonight. I've got a spot out near the ridge, and the game is practically begging to be taken."
Mack finally tore his eyes from the monitor to give him a flat look. "Not happening."
"What, you suddenly don't like hunting?" Cole teased. "Or is your prey wearing heels these days?"
Mack leaned back, steepling his fingers. "She's not prey." He paused, a slow, dangerous smile curling his lips. "But she is mine."
Cole groaned. "Possessive much?"
"She's trying to sneak out without telling me where she's going. That's not happening on my watch."
Cole raised a brow. "And if you don't follow her?"
Mack glanced at the monitor again just as Viola started her car. "That's not an option." He stood, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. "Rain check on the hunting. I've got my own target tonight."
Cole called after him, laughing. "Man, you're whipped."
Mack didn't look back. "No, I'm alert."
The knock on the door was sharp—the kind that said I'm here, open up.
Mack glanced at the cameras again—Viola had made it to the gate and was squinting up at the keypad like it was written in ancient code. He smirked, then turned to open the door.
His other best friend, Nate, strolled in without waiting for an invite.
"You ready? I was thinking we hit the hills before the sun's up. Best time to catch 'em."
"Catch what?" Mack asked, though his tone was distracted, eyes flicking back to the monitor where Viola had bent over to inspect something on the ground.
"Hogs, deer… maybe a coyote if we're lucky. Come on, man, we haven't been out hunting in months."
Mack's lips curled in a slow grin.
"Can't. I've got my own prey to track today."
Nate leaned in to see what he was looking at, then snorted.
"That's your prey? The five-foot-something woman trying to scale your gate like it's a jungle gym?"
Mack leaned back in his chair, hands folded behind his head.
"She thinks she's sneaky. She's not. And the moment she gets that gate open, I'll be there."
"You're not gonna just let her go?" Nate asked, raising a brow.
"Not a chance. That woman's mine. She doesn't get to wander into the world without me."
On screen, Viola finally pressed something on the keypad and the gate gave a quiet click. She froze, looking around like a deer caught in headlights, then darted through.
Mack stood, pulling on his jacket.
"Hunting trip's over before it started."
Nate laughed, shaking his head.
"Man, you've got it bad."
"No," Mack said, a dangerous glint in his eyes, "I've got her."
Mack's eyes stayed locked on the camera feed, watching Viola's every step as she strolled down the driveway, completely unaware of his watchful gaze. A faint smirk curved his lips—half amusement, half that possessive edge she always brought out in him.
A sharp knock sounded on his office door.
"Come in," he called, not taking his eyes off the screen.
The door opened, and his best friend, Nate, stepped inside, grinning like he already had trouble planned."You busy?" Nate asked, leaning against the doorframe."Depends," Mack muttered."Good. Then get your jacket. We're going out. Hunting."
Mack finally looked up. "Hunting? For what?"Nate's grin widened. "Something worth your time. Been tracking a guy who's been slipping through our net for months. Tonight's the night we bring him in."
Mack leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping slowly on the desk. He glanced back at the monitor—Viola was halfway to the gate now, hair swaying in the breeze, her phone in hand like she didn't have a care in the world.
"You're lucky I'm in a good mood," Mack said, standing. "But I'm driving.""You're always driving," Nate shot back, amused."Yeah," Mack said, smirking as he shut down the monitors, "because when I'm behind the wheel, nothing gets away."