Page 142 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
When I open my eyes, there’s someone in the doorway.
For a moment, my heat-addled brain sees Nolan. That cruel smile, those cold eyes that looked at me with such disgust during my heats. “You’re pathetic,” he used to say. “Like an animal.”
I flinch back, a whimper escaping, pressing myself into the corner of the shower.
But as my vision clears, it’s not Nolan.
It’s worse.
It’s Ronan.
I scream, hands flying to cover myself, pressing back against the shower wall in a crouching position.
“Could hear you moaning like a cow from outside,” he says, leaning against the doorframe with casual cruelty. His eyes roam over my naked form, taking inevery detail with a sneer. “Your cowboys aren’t here to help you. Why would they be? They’re probably halfway to Mexico by now, leaving you to deal with your mess alone.”
“Get the fuck out!” I manage to yell, though my voice cracks on another wave of need. “How did you even get in here?”
“Door was unlocked. Very careless for an Omega in heat.” He takes a step into the bathroom, and he’s swaying just a bit like he’s drunk. “Came to tell you to stop wasting time with this stupid fundraiser. Heard all about it. Your little ‘save the ranch’ campaign? You really think you’ll raise enough?” He laughs, ugly and sharp. “In your dreams. I’ll make sure no one in this town helps you. Already talked to the Carsons and they’re pulling their support.”
“GET OUT!” I scream again, and it turns into a sob as another wave of heat crashes through me. My body betrays me, more slick pooling despite my terror.
He steps closer, into the bathroom properly now, and my stomach revolts. The sight of him makes me gag.
“I mean, if you need an Alpha that badly, I could lower myself,” he says, eyes dark with something that has my skin crawling. “You’re not much to look at, but a hole’s a hole when you’re desperate enough.”
I gag. Actually gag. The thought of him touching me, his scent anywhere near me, his hands on my body, draws bile to rise in my throat.
“You’re disgusting, and I’d never let you touch me,” I manage to spit out, but I’m trapped. Naked, vulnerable, in the worst possible state. The shower is still running, cold water streaming over me, and I can’t even stand properly.
He reaches for the shower door handle, fingers wrapping around the metal.
“Come on, don’t be difficult. I’m trying to help you out here. Your cowboys abandoned you. I’m all you’ve got.”
“I’d rather die,” I snarl, but my voice is weak.
“That can be arranged too,” he says casually, pulling on the door and ripping it open out of my grasp.
I cry out, hoping someone will hear me while recoiling in the corner, shaking, terrified.
That’s when a blur of motion crashes into the room. The next second, Ronan’s flying sideways, his body slamming against the bathroom wall with a sickening thud. Walker is on top of him like a bear, fist connecting with his face, over and over.
“You fucking think you can lay your eyes on her, let alone touch her?” Walker’s voice is unrecognizable, more animal than human. Another punch, blood spattering across the white tiles. “I’m going to rip your fucking eyes out so you never see a thing again.” Another hit, this one to Ronan’s ribs. “Threatening our Omega?”
Ronan tries to protest, but his words are lost in thegurgle of blood from his broken nose. Walker is beyond reason, every hit looking devastating. I cringe each time I glance over at the blood, hear Ronan’s cries.
“Walker’s going to kill him,” I whisper, not sure if I care, but I don’t want him charged for murder.
Then Cash is there, towel in hand, turning off the shower and stepping in with me fully clothed, boots and all. “Hey, sugar, hey, I’m here. We’re here. Don’t look at him. Don’t worry about him. Just look at me.”
He wraps the towel around me with infinite gentleness, a complete contrast to the violence happening three feet away. His hands are shaking too, but from rage, not heat. I can feel it radiating off him.
“You’re safe,” he murmurs, pulling me against his chest. “We’ve got you. He’s never touching you. Never coming near you again.”
Ridge is in the doorway, making way for us, then rushes to Walker. “Enough. Walker, enough. We need him alive.”
It takes physical effort, but Ridge manages to haul Walker off Ronan, who’s groaning and bleeding and possibly missing some teeth.
“You come near Sophia or our farm again, and we’re hauling your sorry ass straight to the cops,” Walker growls. “But if I have to warn you one more time to stay the hell away from her… you won’t survive it.”
