Page 33 of His Brutal Game
Wilder straightened, his stance solid. “I was with her last night.”
“All night?” Sawyer asked. Wilder nodded. Sawyer took his time scrutinizing Wilder, dissecting him from head to toe. “You’re under her spell.”
“Can you remind him that I am your wife?” I asked. Wilder stiffened. Shock ran through me. He had done so much for me andhaddefended me more than once, and yet he couldn’t remind his own brother that I was part of the family. Maybe that was his limit, when I lost my importance to him. But I pushed on. I needed to know that he was in this too. “Tell him, Wilder. Tell your brother that I’m your wife.”
“Yeah,” Sawyer said. “Tell me how much you love her. How attached you are.”
***
Wilder
Maisie puffed her slim shoulders at my brother as if her strength and size had meaning. Passion pounded into her, a tiny force of nature, ready to take whatever came her way, even when she knew she didn’t stand a chance. But right then, she wanted me to handle it. To prove that I stood with her.
But with my brother, we handled it a different way.
“Go inside, Maisie,” I said. Sawyer grinned, anticipating what was coming next.
“What? Why?” Maisie asked. “He just—”
“Go inside,” I repeated, my words hollow.
Maisie’s eyes flicked between the two of us, weighing her options, realizing that if I was warning her to stay away, then she needed to go.
The door shut behind her.
“You do have feelings for her,” Sawyer said. “Admit it.”
Jealousy swirled behind Sawyer’s eyes. It was better to ridicule me. To alienate her. To show us our boundaries.
“She didn’t steal,” I repeated.
“You’re protecting her.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
Sawyer cracked his knuckles. “Are you lying?”
He swung forward, punching me in the chest. I grinned, pain pushing through my shoulders; he had been practicing. I blew my fists into his eye sockets, each punch harder than the last, both of us always ready to prove our points. A flash of the window caught my eye: Maisie peeked through the curtains, her brown eyes stuck on us.
Maisie hadn’t stolen it; I was willing to say that. But she could have been behind it. Her friends from the motel. That piece of shit who had managed her. But that was before. She knew what I could do in the Dairy Barn now.
She must have been warning them.
I swung around, kneeing Sawyer in the chest, then pulled him into a headlock. His neck strained against me.
“If she didn’t steal it, then who did?” he coughed. He tapped my arm, then shook free. “I don’t trust her.”
I steadied my shoulders. “I trust myself. And she was with me last night.”
Sawyer wiped a hand over his brow. “I don’t have time for this,” he said. “Neither do you. You know what happens when you get too close. You act like it will never happen to you.”
I tightened my fists, ready to start another round. “You chose the farm,” I said. “You act like you’re a martyr, but you’re not. You let her die.”
Sawyer chuckled, dismissing me. “Don’t let her blind you too.”
Those words struck me. I wasn’t blind. I knew Maisie was messing with my head. I could feel it, could see it, could hear it in the words she had used to tell Sawyer that she was my wife. But he was right. I needed to make sure I saw her and myself for what we were. I wasn’t going to fight for a future that didn’t exist. Death was the only true answer, the only power I had. And eventually, we all surrendered to it. Even Maisie.
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out. A new livestock order had come in, a highly specialized case, which meant that it was up to me to complete.
