Page 18 of Lumberjack DADDY
“Do it, Emery. Now.”
Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I take off at a sprint for the cabins. I’m not too far away, so I’m not worried about him getting away before I get there. I round the bend in the trail and come up behind cabin B, then slow down, moving as quickly but quietly as I can. I come around the western wall of the cabin and find him standing on a box, peering through the window.
“You just don’t learn, do you?” I say.
Startled, Travis recoils and nearly falls off the box. He saves himself and jumps down, landing awkwardly but upright.
“Dude, I was just?—”
“I told you to never come back to my land again. Didn’t I?”
“I just wanted to talk to her. There’s been a misunderstanding?—”
“Bullshit,” I growl. “You got one chance to turn around and get the fuck out of here, or I’m going to make sure the only way you leave my property is in an ambulance.”
His eyes shift to something over my shoulder, and he waves, a goofy smile and lovesick expression crossing his face.
“Emery,” he says. “Tell him there’s been a misunderstanding.”
I cut a glance over my shoulder and see her standing a few yards behind me, arms folded over her midsection like she’s protecting herself with an expression of genuine fear on her face. Seeing the fear ignites the fire that burns out of control inside of me. I never want her to be afraid of anything or anybody. Ever.
“You had your chance, Travis.”
“Wait,” he says. “You don’t understand. She loves me. And I love her.”
“What! She doesn’t love you.”
“She does. I saw the signals she was giving me. I picked up on them,” he says. “She wants to be with me. Ask her yourself.”
“Emery doesn’t want you. And you’ll never have her,” I say, my voice low and tight. “She’s mine. You got that? I claimed her. Not you.”
Travis’ face darkens, and his eyes glint dangerously. His lips curl into a sneer, and he reaches behind him, pulling out a large hunting knife. I stare at the serrated blade for a moment and chuckle. I can tell by the way he’s holding the blade that he’s never actually fought with it before. He has no idea how to use it. And I guarantee he’s never killed with it before.
“You don’t want to do this, kid,” I tell him.
“Emery is mine. She wants to be with me.”
I hear Emery scream behind me as Travis rushes forward, taking a giant, overhand swing with his knife. I sidestep it easily and drive my elbow into the small of his back as his momentum carries him by. He grunts and stumbles forward, falling to his knees. But he jumps up again like a damn jack in the box and brandishes his blade at me.
“You really don’t want to do this, kid,” I tell him.
But he doesn’t listen and rushes me again. As he closes in, I grab his wrist and bend it backward. In the same motion, I bring my arm up and clothesline him, right across the throat. He lets out a choked gasp as his feet come up off the ground. Travis goes down hard on his back and grunts as the air is driven from hislungs. I twist his wrist again, and the knife falls. Scooping it up, I hold it to his throat.
“Emery, go and get me some zip ties. I’ve got some in the toolbox just inside my door,” I call out, then glare down at Travis. “I told you to leave. Are you nuts, you got shit for brains, boy? I told you Emery is not yours, is not interested in you and will never be yours. She belongs to me, and I belong to her. You got it?”
She comes back, and I use the zip ties to secure his hands behind his back, then leave him face down in the dirt. The sound of the sheriff’s warbling sirens draws closer, and I stand with Emery off to the side. I have my arms around her, and she buries her face in my chest.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
She nods. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”
The sheriff and a couple of deputies arrive, and they take our statements. Emery is still pretty shaken up, but she’s holding tough. She’s a lot stronger than she gives herself credit for. Sheriff Tucker comes over and shows us a bag they found in the back of Travis’s truck.
“Duct tape, rope, zip ties… he had a full abduction kit,” he says, then turns to Emery. “You’re lucky this one was with you.”
“I think she would’ve done just fine without me,” I tell Tucker. “She’s a hell of a lot tougher than she looks.”
Emery shudders and looks like she might be sick, but she offers me a weak smile. The deputies finally haul Travis to his feet and walk him toward their car. He turns to her, that deranged, lovesick expression still on his face.
