Chapter 2Rafe had seen too many Strike uniforms in his lifetime not to have the sight of one—even dusty, torn, and oddly ill-fitting—make his blood run cold. None had ever shown their faces in Chadwick, but he’d learned a long time ago anything was possible. This one was here now. This one would have to be dealt with.
As soon as Rafe figured out why this stranger would be looking for him.
He didn’t recognize the name Luther had given him, though he wasn’t sure he was expected to. He doubted the first name would make much of a difference, either. But when he met the man’s eyes, a pale, piercing blue, his trepidation had eased, vanishing completely when the soldier admitted his uncertainty and weakness.
Nobody in Strike would dare do such a thing. Not even a man that looked like this one.
