Page 39 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

“Enough!” I shout, the force of my voice echoes through the clearing. “I’m done listening to your self-righteous bullshit. This is our land, and you have no right to be here.”

“And you have no right to destroy it!” she fires back.

The tension between us is electric, crackling like lightning in the air. Neither of us is backing down, both too stubborn toadmit we might be wrong. We stand there, chests heaving, eyes locked in a silent standoff, the only sound our harsh breathing filling our ears.

But beneath the anger, there’s something else—something that gnaws at me, that makes me question if maybe, just maybe, there’s a kernel of truth in what she’s saying.

“You don’t belong here,” I say again, my voice low and dangerous, the words feeling like a final line drawn in the sand.

I stare at her, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my mind a storm of conflicting emotions. I should walk away, should leave her here and go back to the life I know. But something about her—her conviction, her passion, the fire in her eyes—holds me in place.

Slowly, I unclench my fists, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “You have until sunset to pack your things and go.”

“No.”

“No?”

She shakes her head. “You have no idea what your dad has been up to, do you?”

“What are you talking about?” I demand.

“I’ll tell you, but only on one condition,” she says, her voice firm.

“You’re in no position to be making demands, Mac.”

“Wanna bet?” she says. I can’t help but wonder how I never noticed the steel in her spine before. “I know something you don’t, JT. Something that could change everything.”

I should say no, should turn around and leave her to her own devices, but I can’t. “What is it?”

“Let me stay.”

“So, you can ruin my family?”

“I’m here to expose the truth.”

“The truth?” I scoff, trying to keep the edge of sarcasm in my voice, but there’s a gnawing doubt, a creeping unease that I can’t shake. “What truth, Mac?”

“Your dad was up to something, poaching maybe? The lynxes? I’m not sure but he was definitely doing something more than just running a logging business.”

I stare at her, the words slowly sink in, but they don’t quite stick. They don’t quite make sense. My father was a lot of things, but a liar? A cheat? A poacher? I can’t reconcile that with the man I knew.

“And you have proof of this?” I ask, challenging her, daring her to come up with something real, something solid. For all I know, this is a bluff. Her last ditch attempt to let her stay here.

“I have enough to know that something’s off,” she replies, but there’s a flicker in her eyes, a hesitation that tells me all I need to know. She’s got suspicions, theories but no concrete evidence.

I take a step closer, closing the distance between us. “You’re bluffing, Mac. You don’t have anything, do you?”

“I have enough to keep looking.”

“Enough to keep looking?” I repeat, incredulous. “You’re willing to stay out here, poking around, putting my family and everything we’ve built at risk, based on what? A hunch? A feeling?”

“I’m not leaving, JT,” she says, but her voice isn’t as firm as it was just a moment ago. “I know there’s more to this, and I’m going to find it.”

The anger flares up in me again, but this time it’s mixed with something else—fear. Fear of what she might find, fear of what she might do with it, and fear of how it could tear apart everything I’ve ever known. There’s another fear, too—a fear of her getting too close.

“Listen to me,” I say, my voice low and dangerous, leaning in close so there’s no mistaking the seriousness in my tone. “If youstay here, if you keep digging, it’s not going to end well for you, or my family. You need to leave.”

Mac raises an eyebrow, and for a moment, I think she’s about to argue. But then she surprises me once again by nodding curtly.

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