Chapter Two
Justice considered leaving multiple times, but she was trapped once the wrought-iron gate shut behind her on Kent’s property. She was sure he knew she had arrived.
Taking the circular paved drive, she parked between his tricked-out toys, a Dodge truck, and a shiny, candy-apple red Mercedes. The man couldn’t decide what he wanted to be—either a rhinestone cowboy or a fancy-pants businessman with the world at his feet.
With one last breath of bravery, she climbed out of her car and walked up the cobblestone path, giving herself a pep talk. You can do this. You can do this. You’ve got this.
Tribe, Kent’s bodyguard, opened the door, causing Justice’s stomach to roll. She found it difficult to tolerate the tall, imposing man almost as much as she found it challenging to endure Kent. Tribe could be intimidating and discourteous, always staring at her with his beady eyes. Even now, he studied her with a demeanor of pleasure. However, she was resolute in not allowing him or Kent to coerce her.
“I’m here to see him,” she said calmly.
“Do you have an appointment?” Tribe said with a smirk that she ached to slap off his face.
“Step aside.” She angled her chin.
“Leave the premises—”
“It’s okay, Tribe. Let’s not create a scene. Let the lady inside,” came Kent’s voice from behind the hulking man.
“Yes, sir.” With a tight jaw, Tribe stepped aside, his green eyes burrowing a hole into Justice.
Kent Downs wasn’t an ugly man. He didn’t have horns sticking out of his head to let everyone know he was the devil incarnate. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and always wore fashionable clothes. His hair was neat and cut into an Elvis style. His pensive eyes were on her, and once upon a time, she might have felt something, but now she wanted to vomit. He smiled, engaging those deep dimples. He showed off an even row of sparkling white teeth made starker against his olive complexion. “Are my eyes deceiving me?”
With a sigh of agitation, she stepped into the foyer and faced him. “We need to talk.”
“I had a feeling you’d show up.” He jutted his chin toward the great room. “Let’s have a seat.”
Kent’s desire for sophistication and elegance was evident in every corner of the spacious room, built as a conversation starter.
The high ceiling, intricate molding, and grand chandelier made everything seem rich and stately. The long tear-drop crystals hanging from the light reflected the sunlight, causing a rainbow of color to feather the walls.
Exquisite artwork hung on every wall. He’d added a Warhol and a Matisse. One thing she couldn’t deny, the man had good tastes.
He stopped to pour a bourbon from a decanter, then sat down, patting the cushion beside his hip. “Come, sweetheart. Have a seat.”
With her knees slightly weakened by his egotistical energy, she made her way across the polished flooring, yet instead of sitting next to him, she chose the plush, oversized chair upholstered in rich velvet fabric. She’d often sat there reading a book from his extensive library. He also collected first editions.
If he were disappointed that she didn’t sit next to him, he wouldn’t show it. He was a man who held his emotions close to his vest.
“Tribe, leave us,” Kent said to the lurking bodyguard.
Without hesitation, Tribe left the room, closing the door behind him.
Using a remote control, Kent closed the curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting the room in shadows. This was his move when he wanted to be romantic.
Kent’s smile stayed firm. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Justice?”
“You should already know since you said you knew I’d show up,” she said stoically.
“Right.” He smoothed his forefinger and thumb down his smooth chin as if debating his following words. “Your sister came to you with her outlandish accusations, right?” He eased his slender frame back into the plush cushion and stretched his long legs, hooking his bare feet on the edge of the coffee table. His button-down shirt gaped, showing off the skull tattoo that covered his chest.
“You showed her the photos of you and me.” She held his gaze, not allowing herself to look away. “This must stop. We’re not together. What we had is history.”
“I didn’t want to show her, but I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t do it to hurt you—”
“And yet, you still did what you wanted without considering the outcome.”
His smile slipped. “We can talk this over—”
“The days of talking are over.”
“You look fantastic. Stunning.” His gaze sparkled with admiration. “Good enough to taste.”
Had he even heard a word that she said?
An image of them together in his bed nestled at the forefront of her mind. Shame burrowed into her bloodstream, making her shift uneasily and cross her legs. She couldn’t believe she’d ever listened to a word that came out of his mouth.
“I like knowing I can still make you squirm,” he said in a slow, confident tone.
He misunderstood her restlessness.
“I didn’t come here to revisit what we shared.”
“Are you sure? We certainly did have sexual harmony.” His eyes traveled a heated path down her body, lingering on her legs exposed in the knee-length pencil skirt. The thin material of her silk blouse was little protection against the interest of his gaze. He finally brought his attention back to her face.
“I’m sure,” she said firmly. “I came because you crossed a line.”
“That’s all you’re here for? To smack my hand for misbehaving.” There was no surprise in his poker expression. “I remember once upon a time you enjoyed when I was bad.”
He was exceedingly arrogant.
“I’m here to warn you that if you don’t stop harassing me and my family, you’re going to see a side of me that you won’t like.” Why did her words sound so weak?
A second passed, and he chuckled. “You’re cute, but sweetheart, we know who will win in a fight between a lamb and a lion.” He plucked at an invisible piece of lint from his black pants.
"Never underestimate a lamb, especially when she holds information that could ruin the lion." She’d rehearsed her words the entire ride from the restaurant. She had leverage and would use it if it came to that.
She got his attention. There was a flash of curiosity in his green eyes.
“Are you threatening me?” he said smoothly.
She uncrossed her legs and laid her palms on her thighs. She knew this wouldn’t be easy. “You can no longer hold the photos, or what we shared, over my head as collateral. What you and I had is over. If you cared for me, even in the slightest, you’d let this go.”
He seemed to contemplate her words before the blank expression returned. “You’re a smart woman, Justice. You understand that a man of my…caliber must take certain precautions.”
She squinted. “Precautions? Is that what you call having intimate photos of me and using them as blackmail? That’s not only a dick move but very illegal.”
He swung his arm over the back of the sofa. “Blackmail? Who said anything about blackmail?”
Anger surged within her. She couldn't tolerate his cunning any longer. "You threatened Freedom that if she accused you of poisoning her horses, you'd exploit the photos for personal gain."
“Freedom exaggerated.”
“Freedom would never lie.”
“But she might overthink the situation.”
“Did you have something to do with poisoningher horses?”
“Of course not.” He waved a hand as if he could wipe her words away.
“I can’t believe you.”
Kent’s eyes widened slightly, but a man of his “caliber” never let his guard down. “Why would I want to harm some insignificant breeding horses?” Tension tightened his tight jaw.
“You wanted Requiem. That’s public knowledge. Not to mention, you thrive on drama.”
“You have the same temperament as your sister, my dear. It’s annoying.” He snorted. The first sign of anger started to show on his once placid features.
“I need your agreement that you will stop meddling in my life and stay away from me and my family,” she said calmly. She knew him well enough that he didn’t take kindly to demands, but she had reached her limits.
His face grew somber. “I had hoped we could try again. We were good together, right?”
Disbelief spun webs inside her mind. She could see now how much of a manipulator he was, and he no longer hid it as he was losing control. “A relationship consists of two people respecting, caring, and growing together. What you and I had…there were none of those things. You used me. You wanted me when it was convenient for you. Now I’m…” She wanted to make it very clear. “over you.”
The corners of his mouth played with a doubtful smile. “The only way you and I will ever be over is if you move on. Once another man touches you…,” he growled. Jealousy lit his eyes.
Justice looked at the beautifully crafted coffee table of polished wood and intricate glass adorned with fresh flowers, and a stack of unread magazines. The top magazine highlighted the marriage of a well-known businessman and famous country music artist.
Then it came to her so clearly…
“I’m getting married, Kent.” She held his gaze.
She swore she saw a gamut of emotions cross over his face, but again, they didn’t last long enough to read. “You’re lying.”
She swallowed the acid rising in her throat. “Why would I lie? Some don’t need to sink to that level.” Justice had never been good at telling tales, but when it came to convincing a snake, she had to make every effort to impress.
"Do you want to get rid of me that badly?"
“No, I simply want you to see that we are over. Do me justice by letting me go, and that means also stopping this attack on my family.”
“And what if I don’t agree?” One thick brow slid upward above his shrewd emerald gaze.
“Then I must do what I must,” she said.
He took a long drink from his glass, glaring at her. “There’s that threatening tone again.”
“I’m not threatening you, Kent. I’m laying the cards out so you can see how serious I am.”
“Fill me in, sweetheart.”
She reminded herself that standing eye-to-eye with a “lion” meant staying confident or at least faking it. “I know how close you and the Sheriff are.”
One corner of Kent’s lips lifted. “That’s no secret. Are we not allowed to hang out, golf, and enjoy a fine bourbon? Is that somehow against the law here in Sagebrush Pine?”
“What’s your relationship with Molly, his wife?”
A smirk stayed firm on his face and his jaw twitched. “What does she have to do with any of this?”
Justice had struck a chord.
“I wonder what Sheriff Dussan would think if he knew you were sleeping with his wife? The mother of his children.” The words were out, and there was no fishing them back. She’d paved a new road between her and Kent.
“Where do you get your information? From the same rumor mill as Freedom?”
“With my very own eyes. You really should learn discretion, Kent. I did a little investigating. You’re not playing poker every single night with the boys. Unless it’s strip poker over in the next county in some flea-infested motel room. Couldn’t you have at least upgraded to a three-star motel?”
“No one would believe this nonsense.” He laughed.
“Right, Sheriff Dussan might not, but something tells me he would. Something tells me he doesn’t trust you any more than you trust him.” She stood, lifting her chin slightly. “Now that we understand each other completely, there is nothing more to say.”
His face turned three shades of red. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with, sweetheart.”
“I know exactly who I’m dealing with. A coward who hides behind photos. Now stay out of my life.”
On her way to the door, she heard him say, “Congratulations on the engagement. I wish you luck.”
Every soft hair on her body lifted, her knees wobbled, but she kept walking. Once she was in her car and driving away from Kent’s house, she could breathe again.
She had taken a risk mentioning Molly. Although Justice had no proof of the affair, she’d suspected for some time that while the sheriff was playing poker with the boys, Molly was playing with Kent. Justice had always paid close attention to details. The telltale exchanges of loaded looks between Kent and Molly had made it obvious.
Now that the seed was planted, Justice hoped Kent would back off.
*****
Pok stepped out of the hallway where he’d been hiding, feeling somewhat satisfied with seeing Downs rejected. He stood at the window, probably watching the bitch leaving. Pok grinned, feeling like the universe was playing right into his hands.
“She’s lying,” Pok finally said, planning to get on Downs’ good side. The man was dangerous, but so was Pok. “About marrying someone.”
After a long hesitation, Downs strolled over to the mini bar and poured more bourbon into his glass. His eyes were filled with anger, but his expression was blank when he turned to look at Pok. “How do you know?”
“I’m observant. That’s why you hired me.” Pok tracked his dirty boots over the bearskin rug, ignoring Downs’ low growl. “That was a close call.” Pok lifted his gaze to Tribe, who hovered near the doorway, appearing about as empty-brained as a peanut. “Good thing I parked my truck out of sight.”
Downs rounded the mini bar, wrinkles breaking through his Botoxed features. “Despite your…unique set of skills, you don’t know everything.” He dropped down onto the chair where Justice had been sitting. “Have a seat, Rigs.” Downs used Pok’s fake name, mainly because he knew it raked over Pok’s nerves.
Reluctantly, Pok sat on the couch, staying on the edge just in case he needed to make an unexpected move. He didn’t trust Downs, or his thug. He had a feeling their arrangement was running out of benefits now that they were suspecting that Pok had a plan of his own.
Downs set his glass on a coaster on the coffee table and steepled his fingers, looking at Pok with a narrowed gaze. “You must lay low. You’re like an elephant in a China shop.”
“None of them suspect anything,” Pok said calmly. He didn’t lie, but he was no longer following Downs’ orders, either.
Downs continued to stare as if Pok was as irrelevant as a speck of dirt. “What information did you bring me today?”
“A true delicacy.” Pok reached into his front pocket, withdrew the folded paper, and tossed it onto the coffee table.
“I sure hope this isn’t a waste of time.” He snatched up the paper, dangling it between his fingers.
“Trust me, you won’t be disappointed,” Pok said in a smug voice. Since Downs had hired him to infiltrate Sagebrush Rose Ranch and rock the boat, Pok had been entertaining himself by swiping things off Sam Rose’s desk. The old man thought he was losing his mind. Maybe he was without Pok’s interference. He’d noticed the patriarch seemed off-kilter these days, and now it all made sense.
Unfolding the crumpled paper, Downs skimmed the document. The wrinkles around his eyes smoothed. Did he feel a sense of gratification reading that Sam Rose was diagnosed two weeks ago with incurable pancreatic cancer? “Where’d you get this?”
“I printed it off his computer. He stepped away for a moment. The cowboy is on his last leg.” Pok rubbed his hands together in delight. He found pure joy in seeing the Rose family slowly being dismantled. Soon, Pok’s plan would come together, and he’d have everything he wanted.
Downs tossed the paper onto the table and leaned back into the cushion, inhaling sharply. Anger reappeared. “Sam’s a fighter. Even cancer will have a hard time bringing him down. I might hate the sum’bitch, but he’s a feisty ol’ shit.”
“He has less than a year to live. Then all your troubles will fade away,” Pok said confidently.
“You seem to be enjoying this news more than I am.”
“Are you getting soft?” Pok didn’t like weakness. Yet again, if Downs had lowered his steel walls, Pok would have had the opportunity he’d been waiting for. The egotistical Downs had been added to the kill list. Pok hated the man—hated his unbearable confidence. All his life Pok had faced men like Downs.
“I have a more pressing issue.”
“Justice?” Pok snorted. “You should be happy that cunt walked away. I can take care of her if you’d like me to. Slow torment—”
Downs jolted out of his seat and flew across the short distance, wrapping his large hand around Pok’s throat. His fingers applied enough pressure that Pok had to sip the air to fill his lungs. He knew better than to fight back because he felt the cold sting of Tribe’s gun pressed against the back of his head.
“Listen, cocksucker. I’ve had enough of your careless, stupid vigilante bullshit. I hired you to follow orders. My orders. Get it through your fucking head that Freedom is never going to want you or see you as anything more than a POS mediocre hand.” Downs pushed off, and Pok brought his hands to his sore neck, coughing. More bitterness grew inside him.
Downs clicked his fingers, and Tribe brought him a towel. After scrubbing his hands free of Pok’s sweat, Downs threw it at Pok’s head. “Wipe the sweat off your brow.”
Humiliation and fury rolled through Pok’s veins. He vowed that before long, he’d show Downs, one way or another. Pok would have to waitandbide his time, though.
Downs pushed out through thin lips, “Is Justice seeing someone? Tell me what I need to know.”
Pok smirked. He wanted to provide information that would crawl under Downs’ skin. “Jinx,” Pok blurted.
“Jinx? Who the hell is Jinx?” Downs’ eyes lit with jealousy.
“Jinx Weathersby. He’s a hand at Sagebrush Rose. I’ve seen him watching Justice. He practically jacks off every time he’s near her.” Of course, Pok embellished.
“What should I be aware of with this hand?”
That he’s better looking and tougher than you. Pok clamped his mouth shut on those words. He hated Jinx, so maybe Pok could spur trouble on the cowboy. “Focused. A leader. Knowledgeable. I’ve heard a rumor that he’s hung like a horse, and that’s why women love him.” He hid his grin. Pok guessed Downs had a small dick. Those types of men always did.
He was quiet and finally said, “Find out everything you can on the cowboy. I want to know if Justice is telling the truth.”
Pok saluted Downs.
“Now fuck off,” Downs seethed.
Standing, Pok made his way to the door, enraged.
Stepping out into the sunlight, Pok quietly closed the door behind him. “I can’t wait to remove that smug smile,” he whispered.
Inside, Downs looked down at the sheet of paper. Pancreatic cancer . Poor sum’bitch.
He grabbed the medical results, crumbled them in his fist, and started to throw them into the fireplace when a second thought crossed his mind. He should keep them. He never knew when it might come in handy.
“I think our arrangement with Rigs is nearing the end of our association,” Downs told Tribe. “Accidents can happen to men who can’t follow orders.”