And then I hear it.
Boots on grass behind me.
Slow. Deliberate. Too close.
My body goes cold.
I turn.
Kyle Stroud stands a few feet away like he owns the air between us.
He’s dressed perfect—clean jeans, crisp button-down, hat angled just so. He looks like a man who’s never had to sweat for anything in his life. His smile is the same one he wore in high school when he’d lean close and whisper something nasty just to see if I’d flinch.
I don’t.
“Kyle,” I say flatly. “Leave.”
He tilts his head, amused. “That’s no way to talk to an old friend.”
“We’re not friends.”
His eyes slide over me like I’m inventory. “You always did confuse tension with dislike.”
I glance around, quick. The cart kid watches, worried. There are people in the distance, but not close enough. Not paying attention.
I raise my walkie. “Nash?—”
Kyle moves.
Fast.
He grabs my wrist and yanks the walkie out of my hand so hard it skids across the ground.
My breath punches out. “Don’t touch me,” I snap, jerking back.
He keeps hold. His grip is bruising. His smile doesn’t change. “Relax,” he says, like I’m the unreasonable one. “We’re just talking.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“We do.” His voice lowers. “You’ve been making my family’s life difficult.”
My skin prickles. “Your family’s life isn’t my problem.”
Kyle takes a step closer, backing me toward the fence post. “It is when you sit on land we need.”
“You don’tneedit. You want it.”
He leans in, eyes hard now, the charm dropping away. “Want. Need. Same thing when you have the money to make it happen.”
My heart starts pounding so hard I can hear it. “Let go,” I say through my teeth. “Right now.”
Kyle’s gaze flicks over my shoulder toward the festival. “Where’s your soldier boyfriend?” he asks softly. “Did you leave him to play hero?”
I don’t answer.
I won’t give him the satisfaction.
His grip tightens. “He’s inconvenient.”
