Page 55 of Claiming Ours
Me: Don’t sound so shocked, Mom.
Mom: Not shocked! Happy! If they’re friends of Baylee’s, then I’m sure they’re good people! Unlike those rascals who you hung out with before!
Me: Rascals. Really?
Me: They are good people. Everyone works at the same adventure and rescue company.
Me: It’s only been a few days here in Alaska and a day since I met everyone, and it feels good.
Mom: Good?!
Me: I feel happy. Settled. Secure.
Mom: I’m crying! Happy tears!
Mom: Your dad sees the tears and is worried! Need to go! Bye for now!
Pocketing the device, I stepped inside the wide-open barn doors and paused, searching the vast space for Baylee. My heart stopped upon finding her backed against the goat pen with some guy I didn’t know standing way too fucking close.
“Hey,” I bellowed, already storming in their direction. Their heads whipped my way. My fingers tightened into fists at the look of relief that flashed over Baylee’s face. “What the hell is going on here?”
The guy took me in before holding up both hands and stepping away from her. I didn’t stop until my body was between them, Baylee safely at my back. Her small hand dipped under my shirt and pressed to my bare skin, helping me calm down from a murderous rampage to being willing to hear this guy out… before going on the murderous rampage.
“I’m Dr. Richards.” Instead of sticking his hand out, he tucked both into the front pockets of his slacks. The motion drew my attention to the white gauze wrapped around his forearm from wrist to elbow.
“You okay?” I asked over my shoulder, not taking my eyes off Dr. Douche.
Baylee nodded. “Yes. Taylor here stopped by a few minutes ago. He heard what happened to West and came to see if he could help.”
I eyed the man suspiciously. “Did that need to be discussed so fucking close to you?”
The idiot rolled his eyes and huffed like I was the one being ridiculous. “Oh good, another one.” His lips dipped into a frown as he scanned the tattoos on my neck and forearms where my sleeves were pushed up. “Anchor Bay will need a tattoo place soon to keep up with all the… people”—his tone said he wantedto use any other word than that—“that Brandon is bringing into town.”
Baylee pushed me aside and shifted to stand in front of me. I was too shocked by the sudden move to stop her.
“Actually, he was brought here by me,” she said, tipping her chin up to glare at the doctor. “He’s my friend.”
My chest swelled with appreciation for the tiny yet mighty woman defending me. I rested a hand on her shoulder as I fought the need to pull her to my chest.
The doctor’s expression morphed from shock to disgust. “Friend, huh?” He shook his head and glared down the bridge of his nose at my Baylee. “I’m disappointed in you. I thought someone with your higher education would have better sense than this.”
“Than what?” she snapped, stomping her foot. I almost told her it was adorable, but she was literally vibrating with anger, and I didn’t want to get kicked in the shins or something. “Working for a place that allows me freedom, housing, and a family?”
“This isn’t a family,” the soon-to-be-dead man—not by me but my big-ass fucker of a friend—bit back. “This is a cult, and you’re too blind to see it.”
Baylee looked over her shoulder with both blonde brows raised. “We’re acult, hesays.”
“I’m not the only one,” he continued, voice rising. Okay, maybe I didn’t need Liam to handle this. I could take care of him easily, based on the anger pumping through my veins. How dare he talk to her like that? “There are others in town who are disgusted with the type of characters that?—”
My lips parted to tell the asshole to die in a fire, but Baylee spoke up first.
“Stop it, right now. Don’t you dare say another word, you judgmental, high-and-mighty prick. You and your little bandof ultraconservatives can talk all you want, but this company brings in tourists, which brings in money for everyone in Anchor Bay. So you might not like our lifestyle, but you sure as hell take the money this business brings to town. I will not stand here and let you talk down about this family, here on our own fucking property.” Her tiny fists clenched at her sides. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, Taylor. You need to leave. Now.”
“Or what?” he scoffed and gestured toward me. “Your delinquent boyfriend here will beat me up?”
“No,” she said, taking a challenging step toward him. “I will.”
Oh shit.I was so entertained, ready to clap at the verbal lashing she gave the prick, that I didn’t realize it was about to escalate to violence.
