Page 14 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"Fine," I said, deciding to go for a less invasive question. "What's your name?"

His smile said he didn't believe for a moment that was what I was going to ask. “Samuel."

"Samuel."

"Indeed."

"Just...Samuel?"

A strange light flickered in his eyes before disappearing, replaced by the far more expected amusement. "Out here, for people like me, last names don't count for a whole lot now, do they? You can have my given name. That's it. You'll have to earn anything more than that."

Earn more? As if I was the one who’d been thrown in jail and was at the mercy of other people because I didn't know how to stay on the right side of the law?

His gaze continued to hold mine before he sighed and let his head roll back to rest on the rim of the tub. “Alright, Ambrose, this is where you tell me what fate you and your daddy have in store for me. Because I don't think this is his idea of a just punishment for the likes of me and my...companions."

At least he didn't try to claim them as friends. “You're going to work."

"I figured that much out on my own."

"Under me."

"Directly?"

"Yes."

He hummed, one eye cracking open to slide over me from my feet to my head. “Interesting idea."

Something inside me bristled at the...appraisal. “It's not an idea. It's what's going to happen. No matter how much you smart mouth or how much your friend gets pissed off about it."

His eyes swept over me again, lip curling in a way that pissed me off and made my stomach twist. “You're educated."

"What?"

"You talk like your dad...but without the forced formality and Jesus talk."

"Is blasphemy considered smart where you come from?"

"Blasphemy is a word that's thrown around as casually or as intensely as people want, in whatever way fits their personal crusade the best where I'm from," he said, finally raising his head to stare at me. "Kind of like how words are used by everyone in this country, and probably the world, in whatever way serves them best."

"Words have meaning," I shot back before thinking.

"And they mean whatever you want them to mean," he said with a shrug. "Just like everyone else."

"Awfully rich, coming from someone like you."

"Someone like me? What, a criminal? Anoutlaw?”he asked, the last word more a taunt than a statement of fact.

"Like someone who doesn't have respect for the law."

"Which for someone like you means no respect for honor...or probably love and loyalty."

"And?" I asked, feeling myself bristling but unable to stop.

"And that's what those words mean to you," he said with a shrug. "Doesn't mean they mean the same to everyone else. And I bet you're smart enough to know a few people, even in this far away place with only so many people, that have a different idea of things than you."

My mind flashed to my brother, whose idea of family, obedience, and probably loyalty were several shades different from mine. The thought irritated me further, and I snapped. “Tell yourself whatever you want to make yourself feel better. But your different definitions of the law are why you're here. And I'm done listening to you twist the truth."

"I always love how it's twisting the truth when it's something that someone doesn't want to hear," he said with a snort. "But fine, fine, you're very serious, very virtuous, and aren't taking any shit. And now I'm going to work for you."

---