Page 89 of Three Reckless Words

He’s falling back on his gobs of money and influence and legacy back-scratching. But they can’t help him with this.

“And what’s here for you?” he continues, oblivious to the hardening mountain of muscle he lacks between us. “Do you have any clue how much you’ve upset your parents? And mine? Winnie, you’ve freaked out everyone.”

Yes, I knew.

I knew the second I took off that everyone would be livid, and no one would even try to understand except Lyssie.

And I still made my decision despite the avalanche of crap guaranteed to roll over me.

A decision I’m still making, standing my ground, unmovable and determined to put myself first for once.

“I like it here,” I tell him, lifting my chin. “It’s quiet and peaceful and there are bees.”

“Bees?” He laughs bitterly. “Seriously? Again with the fucking bees. I hoped you’d grow up when we got engaged.”

“Funny. I thought you’d be less of an asshole.”

His face hardens. I’m ready for him to come at me, barking empty threats, cursing my riches to rags.

But Archer moves faster than either of us.

One second, he’s immobile.

The next, he has Holden by the arm and he’s throwing him out the still-open front door.

“Time to leave, you yappy goddamned prick. You don’t get to insult her on my property,” he growls. “Leave. Right the hell now before I call the police.”

“The police? For what?” To my surprise, Holden holds his ground. The porch light outside gilds his hair, casting sharp shadows on his face from his tormented grimace. “She’s myfiancée,you asshole. I should call them on you.”

“I’m not your anything, Holden. Not anymore.” My voice is amazingly steady. “I left you the ring. It’s over.”

His face wrinkles.

It’s like he’s on a spring when he jumps up and lunges forward, but Archer steps up and catches him with ease, slamming a hand into Holden’s chest that spins him off-kilter again.

“Off my property. Final warning before I get you booked for criminal harassment and trespassing.”

“Fuck you, man. You don’t threaten me with cops. Do you even know who I am?”

I can’t see Archer’s face with his back to me, but I can imagine the expression—cold, unyielding, terrifying, lethal.

I saw it when he jumped between us, and it made my blood run cold.

“Why the fuck do you think I care?” Archer spits.

“I’m Holden Corb—”

In one smooth motion—almost too fast to even see—Archer takes Holden’s arm, twists it behind his back, and shoves him violently toward his car. The movement throws Holden off-balance, leaving him face down in the dirt.

“You’re leaving. End of discussion,” Archer finishes.

Without hesitation, he marches forward, rips Holden up, and perp walks him to the sleek black car he drove here before he releases him again.

“Are you insane?” Holden whispers.

I run outside, sharp gravel dragging against my feet.

“Archer, no, it’s not worth it! Don’t get yourself in trouble. Not for him,” I whisper loudly before raising my voice. “Holden, just go. Stop fighting. Go home and tell Dad—tell him I’m not coming home.”

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