But I’m not. The system is wrong.
But Dustin was right. That kiss was right. The way my body came alive under his touch was right.
Chapter four
Kade
Something is wrong with Dustin.
I've known it since he came back from the bathroom over an hour ago, his jaw pulled tight and his eyes darker than they should be. He hasn't said a word about it, just threw himself into preparing Thunder for the next race with an intensity that borders on violent.
However, the bond between us hums with emotions I can't quite pin down. There was a sudden bout of euphoria earlier, and now there's anger simmering beneath his skin. Not the quick flash of temper that comes and goes. This is deeper, slower burning, the kind that builds until it explodes.
It's putting me on edge. My own temper starts to rise in response, feeding off whatever fury Dustin is carrying. I want to corner him and demand answers, but he's in the middle of showcasing the horses.
Thunder prances beside him as Dustin leads him around the show ring, his smile firmly in place for the crowd. No one else would notice the tension in his shoulders or the way his free hand keeps clenching into a fist. But I notice. I always notice when it comes to Dustin.
I'm going to lose my mind. Whoever hurt him is going to pay.
I lean against the rail and watch him work, trying to breathe through the rage building in my chest. Dustin moves with easy confidence, showing off Thunder's lines and gait to potential buyers who probably can't afford him anyway. He's good at this part. Always has been.
People gravitate toward his warmth, that genuine smile, and those damn dimples that make even the most skeptical buyer soften. Right now, though, I can see through the performance. He's holding himself together by sheer force of will and that damn split lip isn’tnothing.
The bond pulses again. Anger mixed with something else. Longing, maybe. Or loss.
What the hell happened?
"Kade." A hand claps on my shoulder, and I barely manage not to shove it off. I turn to find Trevor from the Anderson ranch grinning at me, two of his buddies flanking him. "Hell of a showing today. Thunder's looking prime."
"He is." I keep my voice level even though everything in me wants to snarl at him to fuck off.
"Listen, we've been talking." Trevor leans in like we're old friends instead of business associates who tolerate each other. "That shipment you've got coming in next week. We want in on it."
Not now. Not when I'm trying to figure out if I need to hunt down whoever hurt Dustin and make them regret being born. "We can talk about it later."
"Come on, don't be like that." One of Trevor’s friends steps closer, invading my space in a way that makes my hackles rise. "We're offering good money. Better terms than what you've got with Patterson."
The bond flares with liquid rage, Dustin's anger spiking so suddenly I actually take a step back from the force of it. My own temper rises to meet his, the combination turning my vision hazy around the edges. I can feel my control slipping, that careful mask I wear in public starting to crack.
"I saidlater." The words come out harder than I intend, sharp enough that Trevor’s smile falters.
"Jesus, what crawled up your ass?" The third guy mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
That's it. I'm done. I turn to face them fully, letting them see exactly how close I am to violence. "I'm headed to the truck. If you need anything,don't."
Trevor laughs nervously. "Alright, alright. We'll catch you another time."
I don't wait for them to leave. I stalk through the crowd toward the parking lot, ignoring the looks people throw my way. They can sense the aggression rolling off me in waves. Good. Maybe they'll have the sense to stay out of my way. The truck sits in the far corner where I parked it this morning, away from the main flow of traffic. I unlock it and climb into the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel hard enough to make my knuckles ache.
Breathe. I need to breathe and get myself under control before Dustin gets here. Losing my temper at him won't help anything. But the bond keeps feeding me his emotions, anger and frustration and something that tastes like grief, and it's making it impossible to settle.
The passenger door opens maybe ten minutes later. Dustin slides into the seat beside me and I turn to look at him, ready to demand answers, but the words die in my throat.
There's a black eye forming on his face, the skin around his left eye already starting to swell, turning dark purple at the edges. His lip is split too, dried blood crusting at the corner of his mouth.
Someone put their hands on what's mine and hurt him.
The rage that's been building all afternoon explodes. I'm out of the truck before I can think, slamming the door hard enough that the whole vehicle shakes. My vision narrows to a single point. Find whoever did this. Make them pay. Make them understand what happens when you touch my mate.
