Page 23 of Wilde's End
“Twelve?”
“Yes.”
“Million?”
“I can change it to a B if you like.”
My hand tightens on the handle of the sledgehammer. “It’s not worth that.”
“You asked for my price. You’ve got it.” Then the bastard blows me a kiss. I jolt away from him, and like that, I give Hudson the win.
He tugs his sunglasses out of his shorts and slides them onto his face. “When you have an answer, you know where to find me.”
The damn city boy turns on his heel and makes his way back to his brothers. Rage is rushing through my ears, and while I have a reputation for being quiet and grumpy, I never actively lose my cool.
Not anymore.
Not since …
I swallow the regret and anger down, then grab the sledgehammer in both hands and swing it back over my shoulder. I bring it down on the stone front steps again, and again, and again, until all that’s left is rubble and a dust cloud that clogs my lungs.
I’m breathing heavily, shoulders straining, and as the sound ringing in my ears fades, another echoes toward me.
Hudson’s … clapping.
I turn my hard look on him, and he stops, but his smile doesn’t shift.
“Thanks for that.” His words echo in the distance between us. “Removing those was our next job. You saved us the effort.” He glances over at his smaller brother. “What do you think? He saved us … a day? Makes up for all the time we lost shifting the lumber.” Despite his light words, he returns my hard eye contact.
I bite my tongue through the insults I want to hurl his way. “These houses will never be sold.”
I’m too mad to stick around, so I turn my back on them and leave. My truck is parked where the road meets the gravel, and I gun the engine as I take off into the trees.
Hudson’s lack of reaction has me rattled. It’s only been a fewdays though, and while we’ve hit them hard in a lot of ways, problems are easy enough to ignore when they’re short-term. Give me days, weeks, months if they last that long. I’m going to wear them down.
I’m going to be here every day, making sure they know they’re not welcome.
Old End is a graveyard of memories, and if I need to burn the place to the ground, I will. Given how easily fires get out of control out here though, that will be a last resort.
But I’ll do it if I have to.
Because Hudson confirmed exactly what I knew he would.
They’re in this for the money, and once they’re done, they’ll sell the places off to an influx of strangers, and Wilde’s End will never be the same again.
I’ll be dead before I let that happen.
CHAPTER
NINE
HUDSON
Today is off to a fan-fucking-tastic start. Waking up to a message from Sutton sayingI’m horny, where are youand having to explain that I really moved here should have been the low point, but then the smashing started. Not even pacing to one end of the street and back again is enough to shed the irritation rattling inside me.
This week has been a fucking disaster.
Hartwell’s watching me through lazy eyes as he sips his coffee, and Kennedy’s anxiousness has him on the move. He’s cooking breakfast on the cooktop we’ve chained to a pole and avoiding talking to either of us. Out of the three of us, Kennedy is most excited to be here, but after spending the day yesterday getting air back into our tires, even he’s starting to question why we’re sticking around.
