“I am home.”
“Then I’ve come to collect you and the artwork that belongs to me.”
“I’m not interested. Have a nice life.”
He stepped closer and grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp. “You don’t want to test me right now, Marnie. I own you. And I don’t care if I have to walk in there and rip every picture off the wall. They’re mine.”
Black dots danced in front of her eyes as he squeezed harder. It had been a long time since she’d felt pain like that, and her knees started to buckle.
“You’re going to want to let her go.” Beckett’s voice came from somewhere behind her. “And you’re going to want to do it right now.”
Relief flooded through her.
Clive looked over her shoulder. “This is none of your concern, cowboy. This is between me and my fiancée.”
“She’s not your anything. Now let her go, or I’ll make you.”
Clive released her wrist and she sucked in a deep breath, cradling her hand against her stomach. She leaned against the wall and waited for the nausea to pass. Doors to the shops had started to open and people were gathering on the sidewalks.
“What’s going on?” Blaze asked, stepping out of the sheriff’s office.
“I’ve got it under control,” Beckett said. “He was just leaving.”
Clive sneered. “You don’t know who I am, do you, cowboy? I’m nobody to mess with. Especially when it comes to my property. And this woman is my property. Signed, sealed, and delivered. Marnie Whitlock is a household name in photography. People pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for an original. Every picture in that studio belongs to me. The studio itself should belong to me too—it says in our contract that I’m the sole executor of all her business interests.”
“Why don’t you tell them how you drew the papers up without my knowledge,” Marnie said, her voice steady despite the pain in her wrist. “How you forged my signature and had your attorney friends file the paperwork.”
“Prove it,” he said smugly. “Who’s going to believe a piece of trash from the wrong side of the tracks? You can’t fight me and win.”
“She’s not fighting alone,” Beckett said. “Do you want this handled, Marnie? Just say the word.”
“Yes. I want my life back. He’s not going to have power over me anymore.”
Clive laughed. “Sweetheart, we’re going to get married. That’ll seal everything up nice and tight. You know there’s no use resisting. I always get what I want.”
“Not this time,” Beckett said.
“Listen, cowboy. I don’t know who you are, but if you want to keep your job and your little house, I suggest you move along.”
“The ranch, the house, and a good part of the land you see belongs to me. You don’t intimidate me.”
Clive stepped forward until he was nose to nose with Beckett. “Then maybe you should worry about being able to do business in any of the fifty states again. I’m a powerful man with powerful friends. The governor of your state happens to be one of them. I will crush you.”
“Interesting you should mention the governor.” Beckett’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Seeing as he’s my uncle.”
For the first time, uncertainty flickered across Clive’s face.
“Start getting your things together,” Clive said to Marnie, though his voice had lost some of its edge. “We’re leaving tonight.”
“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?” Marnie stepped forward, ignoring the throbbing in her wrist. “I’m not going anywhere with you. You don’t own me. And I will fight you every step of the way.”
Clive spun and reached for her again, but Beckett moved faster. In an instant, he had Clive on his knees with his arm wrenched high behind his back.
“Lord, you must be hard of hearing,” Beckett said. He pulled out his phone and made a call, keeping his grip firm. “Uncle Jack,” Beckett said when the line connected. “I’ve got a situation here in town. Remember that man I told you about? Clive Wallace? He just showed up in Laurel Valley.”
He listened for a moment, then continued. “Yes, sir. He’s right here with me now. Grabbed Marnie’s wrist hard enough to leave bruises, in front of about a dozen witnesses. Before that, he was threatening to take her property and drag her back to Savannah against her will.”
Beckett glanced at Marnie, his expression softening briefly before hardening again as he looked down at Clive. “That’s right—the same man who forged her signature on legal documents, committed fraud to gain control of her business and her artwork, and has been using those forged contracts to steal her earnings for years.”
