Leni mentioned they were far from hurting financially, but it was clear their fortune was only a fraction of what it had been years ago. Public records showed they’d been quietly selling off parcels of the farmable timberland that had been in their hands for generations, relying less and less on the lumber that had made them rich and put their tiny, eponymous town on the map.
Hard times or not, long-widowed Enoch Parrish and his three sons evidently hadn’t scaled back on their lifestyle as their business declined. Where the rest of the Parrish Falls’ population lived in aged clapboard farmhouses, brick ranches, or mobile homes, the founding family resided in a palatial, well-secured compound adjacent to their lumberyard and sprawling forest land.
Knox stalked up to the electrified fence separating the house’s long driveway from the snowy two-lane that rambled past the wooded property. The barrier wouldn’t be enough to keep him out tonight, but he paused there for a moment and watched as a light-colored SUV roared to life inside the multi-bay garage.
Headlights pierced the darkness as the vehicle barreled up the drive toward the road. He melted into the shadows of the thick trees as the gate slowly opened to let the driver exit.
Knox had found an inmate photo of Travis Parrish online, and his blood seethed as he watched the newly freed son of a bitch roll out onto the two-lane.
He followed behind the SUV on foot, staying hidden on the tree-lined shoulder. He didn’t have to run for long. About five miles up the road, Travis turned in at a squatty roadside tavern. The place was obviously popular, even in the dead of winter. Warm light and loud country music filtered out of it, the only signs of civilization for miles.
Travis drove the gold company vehicle around to the small parking lot in back. Knox crossed the road in a flash of motion, then casually entered the busy establishment from the front door and slipped onto one of the few empty barstools to wait for his target.
Travis Parrish’s harassment of Leni today hadn’t warranted a lethal confrontation, but that didn’t mean Knox was going to let his threat of harming her go unanswered.
The bartender eyed him as the stranger he was as Knox placed an order for a beer he had no intention of drinking. Travis came inside through the back door reeking of cologne and dressed in stiff, new denim jeans and a sweater that strained across his puffed-up pectorals beneath his unzipped jacket. If the fresh clothes and penitentiary-short cut of his dark hair didn’t give him away as a recent inmate, the harsh, predatory look in his eyes left no doubt.
Not that the tavern’s patrons seemed to notice, or care. He was mostly greeted with friendly slaps on the back and fist-bumps as he cut his way through the cluster of patrons on his way farther inside.
A cursory glance bounced off Knox before Travis’s attention zeroed in on a pretty young redhead seated with a friend at the bar. Emphasis on young. Neither one of the women looked old enough to be drinking, not that the small, far-flung tavern appeared to be living in fear of the law.
Travis sidled up to them, murmuring something to the man currently occupying the stool next to the redhead. The guy gave Travis a rankled look, but vacated his seat just the same.
Knox scoffed low under his breath as Parrish attempted to turn on the charm for the ladies. He was clearly on a mission, and the lecherous gleam in his dark eyes made it obvious that he’d come to the local watering hole to scratch an itch.
He ordered a round of shots for himself and the women. They had no sooner tossed back the first than he hailed the bartender for another. Then a third.
“Doubles this time, Steve-O. I’ve got a lot of partying to catch up on.”
The women giggled. Travis wrapped his arm around the redhead, pulling her close.
He’d already made his choice. The new round of shots arrived and his hungry gaze stayed glued on her as she threw her head back and gulped the heavy pour. Liquor ran down onto her chin. She tried to catch the spill with her fingers, but her hands were clumsy, her reflexes slow.
Travis leaned over and licked some of the alcohol away. “You wanna get out of here?”
She shrugged, then the liquor seemed to wash away her reservations. With an apologetic look slanted at her companion, she hopped off the stool and let Travis escort her toward the back door.
Knox got up too.
He cleaved through the knots of humans like a blade, on Travis’s heels before the door had closed behind the big human and the staggering young woman under his muscled arm.
Knox grabbed the back collar of Parrish’s coat, nearly yanking him off his feet.
He wheeled around on an explosive curse, his hands curled into fists at his sides. Rage burned in Parrish’s dark scowl as he took a threatening step forward. “The fuck you think you’re doing, bitch?”
Knox ignored him, speaking to the young woman. “Go back inside with your friend. Now.”
Eyes wide, she scrambled away to do what he ordered.
“You just made a serious mistake,” Travis sneered, although some of his prison yard confidence leeched away when he saw the size of Knox. He was a big man by any standard, but he had nothing on the preternatural power and brute force of a Breed male.
Still, liquor and arrogance kept his mouth running. “You do not want to fuck with me, asshole. Do you have any idea who I am?”
“Yeah. I know exactly who you are. You’re the worthless piece of shit who attacked Shannon Calhoun seven years ago. Same piece of shit who went into Lenora’s diner today and harassed her with threats and a court order to take her sister’s boy away.”
Travis’s liquor-soaked scoff scraped in his throat. “Am I supposed to know you?”
“Why don’t you ask your brother Dwight about that?”
