Page 46 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"Sarcasm," Hipolita piped up from the stove, and I pointed at her to indicate she had the right of it.

"Oh," he said, shaking his head and snorting like an angry bull. "Joseph has...always been like that. But today is...he was?—"

"Pissed off?" I offered until Hipolita turned to stare at me. I grinned apologetically and winced. "Furious."

"Better," she said and turned back to the stove, where a pan heated alongside the kettle.

"He's never been very good at controlling his temper," Ambrose said, frowning at the table. "But he normally doesn't...go after me so hard, not in front of our father, at least. He usually saves that for when he's not around."

"He did seem particularly on edge," I admitted. "Especially when I piped up."

At that, Ambrose rolled his eyes. "I won't hold that against him. So far, the only two people who have dealt with you for longer than two minutes who don't want to strangle you are Hipolita and my father."

"Then clearly, they’re the only ones on this ranch who have good taste in people," I said with a shrug. "It's okay. Not everyone can be as discerning as they are."

Ambrose sighed. “Whydidyou interrupt in the first place?"

It wasn't so much the question that made me hesitate, but the way Hipolita turned slightly as if trying to see us that made me wonder. The question was understandable and innocuous, but now I suddenly felt like I was being put on the spot. I didn't want to say that watching Joseph use every nasty tool at his disposalto browbeat his brother irritated me because that could give the wrong idea about how I felt about Ambrose. But a dismissive answer didn't feel right either.

I shrugged. “He clearly wasn't going to listen to you, and even though your dad was right there, he wasn't going to interfere. Your brother is an asshole and a shit person from the looks of it. Maybe he irritated me, or I thought he deserved to have someone get on his nerves instead of him getting on everyone else's. Plus, it's not like you were getting through to him."

Ambrose raised his brow. “And you did?"

"No, I don't think anything gets through that thick skull. Any sense or logic is bound to bounce right off it. But he's got skin thinner than yours, so I had a little fun getting him all twisted up in knots because his 'lesser' dared to speak to him. And seriously? Who acts like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"No offense, but you're all living and working on a ranch in the middle of the desert, butheacts like he's strolling down the halls of Versailles or Buckingham Palace. You might be rich by the standards of this area and others around it. I don't know your finances, but he acts like he comes from a long line of royals."

Hipolita chuckled at that. “I always said that boy put on airs, and yes, he has always been like that."

"I'm not sure if that's helping," Ambrose said, frowning. It didn't hold, though, and he let out a sigh. “But yes, my brother has always been...like that. My sister always tried to paint it as Joseph simply trying to have what's best in life for all of us."

"He wants what is best for him," I told him with a roll of my eyes. "And you can't tell me it wasn't funny to watch him get twisted and riled up because I was messing with him. If only because it wasn'tyouI was messing with."

His lip twitched. “I'm admitting to no such thing."

"Well, you're certainly thinking it right now, that much I can tell."

"I admit to nothing."

I glanced at Hipolita. “He's amused."

"He is," she agreed, winking at me.

Ambrose sighed. “Look, I'm not sure if it's necessary to give you the details, but I'm sure you have questions."

"Well, considering you were digging around in the dirt for a minute, jumped up like you'd found a snake, and all but dragged the horses and me back here at top speed...you could say I’m more than a little curious as to what’s going on."

"About...fifteen years ago, there was a group of outlaws that were...well, terrorizing, I think is the word. They'd attack anyone if they looked like they had stuff worth stealing, and sometimes, they did it for fun. They also kept going into Rapture to raise hell and burned half of it down once."

"Mmm," I said, thinking of some of the gangs I’d been forced to run with temporarily. Some were actually decent people, for the most part, closer on the morality spectrum to me than the type he was describing. But there were also plenty of them who salivated like a dog in front of a steak at the idea of hurting people and spreading misery wherever they went. "At the risk of getting more accusations from you, I'm familiar with the type."

Ambrose hesitated, conflicting emotions running over his features. His lips parted, closed, then parted again as he took a deep breath. “You...made it sound like you didn't deal with those sorts."

My nose wrinkled, and the familiar sensation of guilt wrapped its slimy way around my guts and squeezed. "I'm not saying I'mproudto have been around those sorts of people, but desperate times mean desperate decisions. Sometimes, to survive, you make choices you'd never make otherwise. And that meant running with some people I would have rather seenhanging from a gallows than walking free. The only thing I can say is that when I was around those sorts, I didn't draw attention to myself, didn't do what they wanted, and got out as soon as I could."

The soft scrape of metal made me jump as Hipolita, who I had forgotten was even there, began scooping out the food. Her voice was soft. “Tread carefully, Ambrose. No one but the Lord Himself knows what any one of us would do when we're forced to keep ourselves alive. The world is a dirty place a lot of the time, and keeping your hands clean can be downright impossible. Even for someone as headstrong as you."

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