Page 117 of Filthy Lovin Heroes

But first, I was going to beat the shit out of my brother for scaring her and for daring to hurt her.

As I pulled the sleigh alongside my Range Rover, my brother glanced over at me. His grin was sly. The motherfucker was alive, all right, and he was enjoying this little game.

Ronan could’ve outrun the sleigh easily in the Rover, but he wanted me to catch up to them.

I signaled for him to pull over to the side of the road, then dropped back to give him room.

I slowed the horses; more than one tossed its’ head back, protesting our decreased pace.

After I stopped the sleigh, I tied their reins to a nearby tree and approached the car. The windows were all tinted, but in the backseat, Holly was tapping on the glass and calling my name.

My heart went out to her.

“I want to see her now,” I said by way of greeting to my twin, who had unrolled his window a few inches. Too little space to smash my fist in his face.

Ronan’s face was thinner than the last time I’d seen him. Flecks of gray at his temples made him look older too.

“Good to see you, too, Malcolm. As the duke of Lachlan, you should work on your manners.”

“Fuck you, Ronan. Let me see her. If you hurt her?—”

“I’m a gentleman; I would never harm a woman.”

“What you are is an asshole. You ran this estate to the edge of ruin, and then faked your own death to escape the consequences. Do you know how much pain you caused our mother?”

Ronan shrugged. “She always liked you best anyway.”

“You’ve crossed the line with Holly.” I tried the driver’s door; it was locked. “Holly, are you ok?” I cupped my hands to peer through the shaded window.

“I’m unharmed. Be careful, Malcolm.”

Ronan exited the vehicle. In a heavy coat and boots, he was dressed for the weather.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“To settle this.” Ronan flexed his fingers in his gloves.

“You want to fight?” I shook my head, thinking I’d misheard him.

“Winner takes all.”

We started circling each other.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Not surprisingly, Holly had not waited in the car. She was standing in the snow in her flimsy dress and her heels. Jaime’s coat hung loosely around her even as she hugged it to her body. She was shivering.

“Where’s your tartan?” I called to her harshly.

Wait a minute. Pulling up, I let my arms fall to my sides.

“I’m not one of your possessions!” she cried sharply.

What was I doing? Ronan’s return provided me the solution I craved. Lachlan was his responsibility, not mine. Whatever he did with it wasn’t my problem.

Take Holly and go back to New York.

When the thought struck, I missed Ronan’s right hook.

I spun, watching the world rotate. I struggled to stay on my feet and slipped in some ice. The last thing I remember was Holly trying to reach me through the snow in her ridiculous gown and shoes.

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