"I..." My voice cracks. "I need to think."
"Don't take too long. If Austin finds out I was here..." James shudders. "I'll be at my office until five. Please."
He lets himself out.
I stand in the silence of the kitchen. I look down at my body. I am still wearing his shirt, the scent of him clinging to the fibers and taunting me. I smelled like him. I am sore from him.
But the letters on the table tell a story of war and strategy.
"You stupid, stupid girl," I hiss at the empty room.
I refuse to sit here and wait for him to come back and pat me on the head. I march to the bedroom. I pull on jeans and a sweater. I grab my keys. The note beside the heavy handgun on the nightstand stares up at me, the bold ink of his handwriting a physical weight in the room.Stay inside.
"Go to hell, Austin."
I grab my purse and storm out the door.
The drive into town passes in a blur. I ignore the charm of Main Street. I drive past the bakery and pull my rental sedan into the alley behind Peak Wilderness Outfitters. I know the code to the back door. 1-9-9-8. Our birth year.
At the time, I thought it was romantic. Now, it stinks of manipulation.
The keypad beeps green. I step into the stockroom. Voices drift from the office down the hall—the "War Room."
"...James was seen heading up the mountain road this morning," a deep voice rumbles. Logan.
"I'll handle him," Austin’s voice replies, lower and darker. "He knows better than to interfere with my business."
"You need to lock that property down, Austin," Logan says. "If we don't control that access point, we're exposed."
"I'm not playing," Austin says, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "I'm claiming. The land is secure because she is secure. No one touches that deed but me. By the time I'm done, she won't even remember she had a life before this."
Air leaves my lungs in a rush. I shove the office door open so hard it slams against the wall. Both men spin around.
"Securing your perimeter," I spat, stepping into the room. "That's what I am, right? A strategic acquisition?"
Austin roars my name. He moves toward me, looking frantic. "Courtney, stop. You shouldn't be here. Unsafe."
"Don't you dare tell me about safety!" I shout. I pull out the letter and throw it at his chest. "Five years, Austin! You've been trying to buy my inheritance for five years! You seduced me just to get your name on the deed!"
"I blocked the sale to keep you alive!" he shouts back.
"And fucking me?" I challenge. "For protection too?"
Austin freezes. Behind him, Logan quietly steps out and closes the door.
"You think I touched you for land?" Austin takes a slow step forward. "Because you are mine! Not the land. You. I wanted the house because it brought you back. I blocked the sale because if you sold it, you’d leave again. And I couldn't survive that."
He invades my space. He smells of coffee and danger. "I told you—I’m sick, Courtney. I am fucking diseased with the need for you. I patrolled that property, not for the dirt, but because it smelled like the last place your pussy was pressed against me. I guarded it like a shrine so I could have a place to bury myself inside you when you finally came home."
I stare at him. His eyes are raw. "Home? Is that what you call that house?"
“I watched the shrine, now I’m remaking it into a home," he corrects bitterly.
"I need to leave," I whisper, stepping back.
"No." Austin blocks the door. "You walked into the lion's den. You don't get to walk out until I say it's clear."
"Let go!"
