Page 70 of Dark Horse

I hold out my hand for the expandable baton Sam’s pulled out of its case. He hands it to me, and it makes a beautiful sound as I shake it to its full length. Spencer’s eyes go to the weapon. One I’m positive he and his ilk are familiar with.

“But since it seems like a calm exchange of ideas isn’t your strong suit, I figure I better give you a more permanent lesson in what I mean. A little more violent since that’s your communication style.” I grin at him before I stand and draw the weapon back. “You bruise her knees, I fucking break yours.” I crack it down hard—once on his left and again on his right. The bone-crushing sound it makes is one of the more satisfying ones I’ve heard in my life. He screams bloody murder, and Jack shoves a towel into his mouth to silence him. This house is off a country road, and I don’t see any close neighbors, but one can never be too cautious.

“And if you scrape her leg dragging her off a counter? Well…” I pull the switchblade out of my suit pocket and knock the blade loose from her sheath. “Then I’m going to carve that same line into your flesh as a reminder to be more careful the next time.” I stab him just above his knee and drag the blade up his thigh, careful not to cut too deep. He screams then, muffled by the rag Jack presses tight. Tears stream from the corners of his eyes, and his whole chest is racked with sobs from the pain I’ve exacted.

I watch him writhe in agony for a moment, committing the scene to memory. It’s only a hint of the satisfaction I want for what he did to her, for any confidence he might have stolen orany humiliation he might have inflicted, but it’ll have to do since I can’t kill him.

“Now, I’m going to go talk to your boss and let him know you’re gonna need some time off from work to heal because we all got a little jumpy when you pulled a gun on us. I’ll let the two of you work out whether that’s a paid leave or not, so long as I never see you step foot on my property again.” I wipe my blade off on his clothes and tuck it back into my pocket. “And before you think of doing anything rash, remember I don’t give a fuck about that badge and there are muchmuchworse things than death.”

My uncle’soffice tries to play coy about where he is until I repeat my last name like it’s a demand, and they finally locate him for me. He leaves me waiting for a good twenty minutes before he lets me in, which is his boy’s loss considering he’s the one bleeding and broken on the deck.

“Good morning, Grant. It’s been a while.” He points to the seats across from his desk where we can sit down without five hundred pounds of wood between us. I don’t know that it would be my choice if I were him, but if he wants to act like we’re family again—I can play that game.

“Morning, Uncle. It has been a bit since we’ve gotten to chat like this. I appreciate you making time in your schedule.”

“Of course. Anything for one of Jacob’s sons.” He smiles wide like he truly cares. I wonder if he ever did. All those holidays when we were kids. All those late nights playing cards and drinking beer with my father. Camping trips. I can’t imagine up and disappearing on Ramsey or Levi’s kids if they ever needed me, and the same goes for my niece, Fallon. I’d doanything I could to help. “To what do I owe the pleasure today?”

“Well, a bit of unpleasant business first. One of your boys got a little wild at my bar in Purgatory Falls.”

“The Avarice?”

“Seven Sins.”

“I thought that was owned by the Hartfields?”

“The business, yes. The building is mine.”

“Ah, I see.”

“And you know how we are in this family. Very sensitive about the way people treat things that belong to us.”

“I’m aware of that sentiment.”

“So you’ll understand my disappointment. Did you send them?”

“Send cops to the bar?” His brows knit together in confusion, and it’s unfortunate I don’t know him well enough anymore to determine whether or not it’s fake. “I can’t say that I did. They might have been in the area. I’ve asked them to crack down on some of the rowdiness after hours. We keep getting a lot of reports about out-of-towners making a mess of the place and running the locals out of the places they love. Doesn’t seem like a good model for the future.”

“Ah well. They took that mandate a little too far. One of your guys roughed up one of the women, the owner actually, and I don’t care for men who put their hands on women. Badge or no badge.”

“I don’t blame you there. I’d do the same.” It’s a warning as much as it is an agreement.

“I’m glad we see eye to eye because on the way over, I made a little pit stop to chat with one of your officers. Unfortunately, when I knocked on the door, he pulled a gun on me, and well… you know Colorado law better than anyone.” I lean back in the chair and give him a pointed look.

“He still breathing?”

“He was when I left him, but I imagine he’ll need a little help and a couple of weeks’ leave to really process our discussion.”

“I see.”

“Truly hoping he takes it to heart. I’d hate to fucking hear he put his hands on another woman. Particularly someone I hold in such high esteem.” I stare at my uncle and wait for his reaction. I’m a betting man, but there’s always a risk when you run with a hand like this one.

“I’ll make sure he gets it. Did you say the officer’s name?”

“Spencer, I believe it was.”

He pulls out his phone and fires off a text before he returns his attention to our conversation.

“We’ll get him some help, and I’ll see to it that he’s not in a position to bother any women any time soon.”

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