Page 27 of Auctioned to the Lumberjacks (Auctioned)

Skye’s body trembles, and her face is a frozen mask of fear. It’s an extreme reaction to what is probably an animal rustling around in the undergrowth outside.

“Stay with Skye,” I hiss at Finn. “Me and Jack will check outside.”

Jack uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat and dust from his face. Outside, the forest is dark except for the small light over the front door of the cabin. My eyes sweep the area, finding nothing. Jack and I step out of the studio cautiously. Jack’s holding a screwdriver at a vicious angle. I didn’t think to come armed, but I have my fists, and they’ve served me fine over the years.

“Around the side.” Jack angles his head and starts walking. For such a big, imposing man, he can move stealthily.

Jack’s first to make it around the left side of the lodge, and he comes to a stop. “Ethan, what the fuck are you doing?”

When I reach Jack, Ethan is pulling back from where he had his face pressed to the kitchen window. He straightens, then staggers a little, grinning with a mouth filled with stained teeth. The dude seriously needs to pay a visit to the dentist.

“Looking for the pretty girl you’ve got in there. I thought, if she’s fucking three stinking lumberjacks, she wouldn’t mind a fourth.” He takes a step forward and teeters on his leg. I half expect him to fall to the floor in a heap, but he rights himself. “Where is she?”

Jack steps forward, holding the screwdriver facing down but clearly visible. He straightens so his shoulders expand, making his already huge form even broader. I join him, creating a barrier between Ethan and Skye, who’s currently cowering in the studio. This fucking asshole isn’t going to get anywhere near our girl.

“You need to get out of here.” Jack’s voice is calm, but there’s an undercurrent of menace that could chill the Sahara. He doesn’t talk about the things he’s done in his life. As an ex-law enforcement officer, I can imagine there have been times he’s stepped over the line. I know from my own military experience that in the heat of the moment, a lot can happen that seems terrible in the cold light of day. But Jack has a handle on the violence that lingers inside him like a specter. I do, too, but only to a certain point. Threaten me or threaten something that’s mine, and it’s over.

But you took something from him.

That’s why he’s here. Skye’s just a cover. He wants to make me pay for Harold’s death. Time doesn’t change it. Goingthrough the motions at work together won’t change it, either. His brother died, and he blames me.

And I deserve the blame.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Ethan lunges forward, his words slurring from a mouth that seems out of his control.

Jack holds his ground, and so do I. “This is our land, Ethan. And you’re trespassing.” Jack’s weapon hand twitches, and Ethan’s eyes drop to the long, sharp steel.

Even in his drunken state, it must register that he’s in danger. Two against one isn’t great odds when you’re up against men who haul logs for a living.

“All I want is a taste. You owe me that much.”

“I’ll give you a taste of something,” Jack says. “Your own fucking blood. Now, get out of here.”

“YOU OWE ME…” Ethan’s face contorts, reddening with fury as he points at me in jabbing motions. “YOU FUCKING OWE ME, WEST. YOU OWE ME A FUCKING BROTHER.”

The torture in his voice tears at my heart. All the guilt I feel over being the one to escape the falling tree surges through my bloodstream. Harold’s scared face as he shoved me out of the way and the way that expression didn’t change when a huge branch caught him, crushing his body against the ground, is so clear in my mind.

I didn’t deserve to live. He didn’t deserve to die.

It was my mistake, and Harold paid with his life.

Now Ethan’s suffering every day from grief.

“He doesn’t owe you shit, Ethan. It was an accident. You know that. I know that. West knows that. Harold was a good guy, and he put his buddy’s life before his own. He was a hero that day. And no pussy is going to bring him back. You aren’t making any sense.”

Jack takes a lumbering step forward, raising the screwdriver high enough to inspire panic in Ethan’s eyes. One stab of its length would pierce his skull, and we’d be within our rights to deal with a trespasser on our land in the dark.

“All I want is a taste of that girl. What does it matter to you? You bought her. She’s yours to pass around if you want.”

“Fuck, Ethan. You’re disgusting,” Jack hisses. “Go find your own whore.”

My head whips around to see if Skye’s listening. Finn is at the open door of the studio, blocking her view of us, but voices carry in the silence of the looming trees on a now windless night. She’s not a whore. I don’t see her that way, anyway. Our contract agreement might involve sex, but that’s only a part of what she’s here for. I’d never look down on her for doing what she needs to do to survive.

Ethan staggers back, the alcohol destroying his coordination. His eyes are wide, and he mutters under his breath like a witch casting a spell. Something about how it should have been me that died that day, and how he curses my life.

He doesn’t know how many times I wish it would have been me who died and Harold who’d lived. He was my friend, and the burden of his heroics has only crushed my life.

Skye’s not a whore. She’s a balm for three lonely, messed-up men who miss the company of a woman but are too fucked up to find one who’ll stick around. She doesn’t know it, but she has all the power.

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