18. Sawyer
Chapter 18
Sawyer
The lights in the Dairy Barn lit her skin like a blank canvas, and I scraped my nails into her back and hips, red surface wounds that would scab in the morning. The harder I fucked her, the harder she cried, and that encouraged me to do more, because this was what we were supposed to do, who we were supposed to be. I made sure that she could feel every inch of me, showing her that nothing could change this. She might have controlled me, dictated my every move since I met her, made me a slave to her pussy, but that didn’t change the fact that this lust that boiled inside of me every time I thought of her—this rage—was mine.
Love wasn’t real. Not when it came to my business, a legacy that would live beyond me. And if she couldn’t live with that, then one of us had to die. I had given her that choice.
She should have pulled the trigger on me. That would have made this simple. Would have made me see everything in a different light. Shown me where she stood.
Instead, she almost killed herself .
I pulled her hair, her neck taut, and she snarled at me and I slapped her face until she finally relented, falling back into herself. Those desires sinking in. She was a good girl, but she wasn’t mine. She had to be on her own.
“This isn’t about me,” I growled. “This isn’t about us. And there was never an ‘us,’ Fiona. Only you. ” Fresh tears sprung from her eyes and I licked her cheek, tasting their salt, my dick swelling with heat, stretching her even wider. I put my palm on her neck, a deep swallow going down her throat. That fear burning inside of her. “It was only you.”
The entrance doors slid open. I cursed under my breath but kept fucking Fiona, knowing that the only person who had a key to unlock this place was my brother. But Fiona twitched on the table, desperate to cover herself and see who it was. I held her chest tighter, enjoying her struggle.
A groan called through the air, chilling me. The sound of death lingered around us.
Roth.
Right on time.
I shoved myself off of Fiona and zipped up my pants. The hunters and ranchers with Wilder simply nodded their heads, not acknowledging the fact that Fiona was there, knowing that I would have their heads if they even looked at her. Fiona’s cheeks flushed as she stumbled to put on her clothes. Wilder kicked the back of Roth’s legs until Roth fell to his knees.
I had given Roth a choice too, just like Fiona. Sell to us. Become a part of our team. Or suffer the consequences.
With my eyes still locked on Roth, I addressed Fiona: “Go to your sister.”
In my head, I ran through a list of weapons we kept in the Dairy Barn. What would I use on Roth tonight?
“Do what you have to,” Fiona whispered. “But it doesn’t have to end like this.” Her voice strengthened. “ We don’t have to end like this.”
I was tired of how she said those words like she could change my future when everything I wanted was written in my blood from the first breath I took. I was a Feldman. I would live a Feldman. And I would die a fucking Feldman.
The only difference now was that I knew there was one person I would never kill.
Fiona.
I clenched my fists. “I will not repeat myself.”
Two seconds passed. Hesitant. Worried. Then Fiona scattered through the barn toward the door. As soon as she was out of sight, my vision tunneled, focusing on the man in front of me. His shaved head. The cleft chin. He had disrespected me and my family. He even stalked my woman. Almost hurt her. He knew this was coming.
Every sound fuzzed out. Sweat beaded my brow.
“Good to see you again, Roth,” I said.
His speech was slurred, his lips swollen and fat: “Can we negotiate?”
I chuckled. The once eloquent man had been reduced to bruised scraps of a human that could only mumble a few words.
Wilder stepped forward, brandishing one of his favorite blades, but I held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. The rest of the men shifted.
“We discussed your elimination with your ex-employees,” I said, “letting them take turns with you. Each contributing to your murder.”
“Fuck you, Feldman.”
“Unfortunately, I’m a greedy bastard,” I said, gesturing toward two of the newest hunters, recruits from Roth’s own company. They brought forth a sturdy wooden pillory, unlocking it. It was short enough that it kept him on his knees, but strong enough that he wouldn’t be able to move. He would be locked in that position. I grabbed the back of his shirt and shoved him inside of it. He threw me off of him. I grinned; he had more energy than I expected, but fighting for your life would do that to you. I gritted my teeth and pushed his neck into the wooden half-circles until he fell still.
Once his neck and arms were properly placed, I slammed down the top of it, then locked the wood into place with a giant padlock. He pulled at the restraints, resisting. But he was stuck. I stood straight, looking down my nose at him.
Manipulation worked best with valuable people, but when that didn’t work, you killed them.
I stepped one foot on top of the pillory, leaning on it with all of my weight.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” I said.
“Please, Sawyer,” he suddenly begged. “We can talk about this. We?—”
This was what I had been waiting for: to make him beg.
I ignored his pleas, walking to the cabinet. My eyes glossed over each of the weapons, but then narrowed in on one. Made of stainless steel with jagged edges, the saw wasn’t the most efficient tool for the job, but that was exactly why it was perfect.
It would hurt.
Carrying the blade by the handle, I stepped over to the pillory and rested it on his neck. The side of the neck was the best area; it kept the livestock order alive as long as possible, and therefore, their bodies felt everything until they passed out. I worked the blade from side to side, his skin spreading open, and he gasped, vomit spilling on the grounds, on my shoes, but I kept going, achingly slow. No one beats me. No one messes with my family. And no one, fucking no one, messes with Fiona.
He screamed one last time, that final force of dominance settling on my shoulders. I let him flail like that, until finally, his body gave up, hanging limp on the wooden structure. He had passed out from the pain and blood loss. A puddle of blood reflected our image together: Roth’s empty eyes and mine. My father would have been proud.
But it wasn’t enough.
I grabbed my gun, shoving the back of it into his cranium until I saw gray and red chunks and bits of skull flying, knowing that by killing Roth, the Feldman Farm would dominate once again. Making all others kneel before us. Making them beg.
Just like Fiona.
Please, Sawyer.
I flinched, her words echoing through my mind. I scanned the room, instantly finding her. Fiona’s makeup streaked face, eyes in shock, glaring at me from the corner of the Dairy Barn. I was covered in blood.
She no longer looked afraid. She looked angry. The sting of betrayal simmered in her eyes.
I opened my mouth, but she cut me off.
“You pushed me away like I was another kill to you,” she said.
I didn’t say a word. Everything inside of me was empty, except when it came to power, and her. And that meant that I should have gotten rid of her years ago. Used the real Fiona as my sacrifice for the Feldman Offering.
Instead, I was here, questioning every decision I had made since I met her.
She stormed out of the Dairy Barn, disappearing into the night. One of my men looked at me, non-verbally asking if I wanted him to make sure she stayed safe, and I nodded.
Blood stained my shoes, fleshy bits of white and red tissue flecking my gold cufflinks. I hadn’t even bothered to change into our usual attire, I had been so focused on getting rid of him. Determined to prove that I was still the leader I was supposed to be. To prove that Fiona didn’t control me.
Fiona.
“You okay, boss?” one of the new recruits said. I narrowed my focus on him, but my eyes were blurry, my pulse slowed.
I should have gone after her.
I should have let her go. Should have stopped following her like a fool.
The barn doors were still open, the breeze drifting in. I rubbed my hands over my face, smearing blood on my cheeks.
“Clean up,” I said, motioning to Roth. The men got to work, and Wilder jogged out of the doors, quickly hopping into his SUV. Maisie must have been calling. That meant that Fiona was with her, and safe.
But the truth was that Fiona was always safe when it came to everyone else. The only one who would hurt her here was me.
And what good had that done?
Outside, the crickets chirped, and my shoes shuffled in the grass, but as I stared at Wilder and Maisie’s house, the breeze drying the blood on my skin, I tried to be empathetic. To remember what it was like when I saw a person die for the first time. When my brother and father murdered my mother .
But even then, it didn’t seem real. Back then, all I had thought was that they could do the same to me, and I had to be ready. I had to be better than them. Had to control them in every way possible.
And that’s how it was with Fiona. She wasn’t my enemy. She wasn’t even my rival. But if there was one person in this world who could disarm me, it was her.
Forcing my steps forward, I headed back to the main house, where my father had once lived, a place that now housed some ranchers and hunters. It could have been mine; my father had even insisted on it. But I had distanced myself, knowing that even your own family could turn their back on you.
Fiona was more than family. She was everything. And what had I done to Fiona, if not turned my back on her? Forcing her to pull the trigger. Coercing those two words out of her, so that I finally won.
My feet sunk down in front of me. I headed toward one of the showers. Sprayed myself off. Roth’s flesh washed down the drain, and I thought about all the things I had done to make Fiona fall in love with me like I had been in love with her for so long. The good man I had pretended to be until it almost destroyed my legacy. And still, I had failed.
She didn’t love me. She never would.
This was how it was supposed to be. Fiona and I didn’t make sense. She was perfection, someone who believed in the world, and I was dominance. Power. Hunger. Greed. And in the end, a man like me didn’t deserve anything.
Not even her.