Page 101 of Knotting With A Stranger

Travis charges at me again, roaring with rage. I sidestep, swinging the shotgun like a baseball bat. The stock connects with his arm with a solid thunk, and he goes down hard, sprawling across the floor, wailing.

In the same movement, I flip the shotgun, aiming it at Deacon. “Party’s over, Sasquatch!” I shout.

The big man hesitates, hands halfway raised. Behind him, James rolls his eyes even while struggling.

“Sasquatch? Really?” James grunts.

“What? He’s hairy and huge,” I shoot back without taking my eyes off Deacon.

The big guy hesitates, hands halfway raised. That split second is all James needs. He drives his elbow back into hiscaptor’s solar plexus, then twists violently in the loosened grip. The knife flashes, but James is already inside the man’s guard. There’s a sickening crack as James slams the man’s head against the edge of a table. The knife falls from his suddenly limp fingers as he crumples to the floor.

Deacon glances from his fallen companions to the shotgun in my hands, calculation clear in his eyes. Blood still streams from his nose into his beard.

“Don’t,” I warn, tightening my grip on the weapon. “Just don’t.”

The room falls silent except for our ragged breathing and the crackling of the fire. The fight has lasted barely a few minutes, but my body throbs with every heartbeat, adrenaline making my hands shake. Travis groans and tries to get up, moaning louder in pain.

James moves to Deacon and slams a fist in the middle of his face, sending the asshole falling backward, and he cries out, clutching his bleeding face.

Travis stumbles to his feet. “You want everything, don’t you, you fucking selfish asshole?” he roars, spittle flying from his lips. “It’s never been enough!”

I hear the ache in his voice, even after all these damn years.

“This is all about what you think I took from you. A childhood. A family. Love.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Travis hisses. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I take a cautious step forward. “I was there, remember? I saw what your mother’s family did to you. I begged Grandfather to take you in.”

“Liar!” Travis shouts, but there’s uncertainty in his eyes now. “You wanted me gone! You were glad I was sent away!”

“I was young,” I state quietly. “Same as you. I had just lost my parents, too. The only difference is where we ended up.”

For a moment, something flickers in Travis’s eyes—a flash of the frightened boy he once was before bitterness and resentment hardened him into the man he became. Then it’s gone, replaced by the same cold hatred that’s defined our relationship for so many years.

“Deacon, fuck, get up, you pussy,” he says, looking toward his fallen ally. “Take care of my cousin. Break whatever you want.”

Deacon struggles to his feet, face drenched in blood from his busted nose. His huge frame sways unsteadily.

I lift the shotgun, leveling it at Deacon’s chest. “Just stay the fuck down.” Glancing back at Travis, I snarl, “Next one who moves gets a hole where their lungs used to be.”

Something in my voice—a darkness I rarely let surface—makes the two men freeze. The third one hasn’t moved since James put him in his place.

I turn the full intensity of my gaze on Travis. “You need to back the fuck off,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “Let go of the past. Shit happened to both of us, but holding on to it is only going to ruin your damn life.”

Travis’s face contorts with rage. “Easy for you to say?—”

“Shut up,” I cut him off. “I’m moving on, and you should, too. Maybe one day we can find a way to patch up our differences, but it won’t be now.” I take a step closer, the shotgun never wavering. “I came for my half of the map, and you’re lucky I leave you breathing with how fucking furious I am.”

The room falls silent except for our ragged breathing. Travis stares at me, hatred warring with something else in his eyes.

“You don’t understand,” he finally says, his voice cracking. “You got everything. Everything that should have been mine.”

“Pull your head out of your ass,” I snap. “You got the eastern ranch, a huge piece of land, and half a map. You’re too blinded by jealousy to see how good you have it.”

“It’s not the same!” Travis shouts, a hint of desperation in his voice. “That land is worthless compared to what you got! The treasure is on your property?—”

“There might not even be a treasure,” I interrupt. “And if there is, we split it fifty-fifty. That was Grandfather’s wish.”

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