Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
WILDE
R ooney lets out a long whistle. “That was hot.”
“Why, because he can drive a car? I drive one all the time. I don’t see the big deal.”
“We both know it had nothing to do with him driving.”
The one hand I have on the wheel clenches tighter as I drum my free hand on the window frame. Getting rid of these guys might not be as easy as I’d like, but I’m not giving up.
Fucking Hudson.
I turn the name over in my mind. It sounds like a city boy name.
He was no less handsome up close today than he was last night, but at least in the daylight, I could make out his imperfections.
The dark shadow at his jaw, the uneven set to his lips, the way his dark blond hair curled back from his forehead, showing off his bushy blond eyebrows. And those dirty green eyes …
Rooney can be impressed by the driving all he likes, but there’s something else tugging at me. Something grudgingly like … no t respect. Never that. But the way he met me head-on makes me want to go another round with him.
With Hudson .
We pass through town, and I’m half tempted to drive off the road and into the dirt bike parked near where the car normally sits.
The bike prickles the warning center of my brain, but I’m already past it before I can make up my mind, and the glimpse of their white car in my rearview mirror makes me refuse to turn around.
We need to keep our distance from the brothers while making sure that everything here is as hard as possible for them.
If I need to break them, then so be it.
The next day, the smallest brother heads into town and comes back with a new burner, two gas bottles, and a bunch of construction equipment. They chain their gear up and move it inside at night so I can’t steal it again.
I guess city boys do learn.
Monday, we intercept a delivery of timber heading for Old End.
Rooney doesn’t love the idea of meddling, but he comes with me and convinces the driver we’re meeting him because his truck is too large and heavy for the small road.
He unloads it all and leaves. Watching the brothers find the timber and have to strap a few beams to the roof of their car at a time gives me a thrill, and I’m half convinced Hudson will come up to confront me.
He doesn’t, which means I need to try harder.
Tuesday, I let the air out of their tires before they wake, and seeing the little one kick a camping chair halfway across the street almost makes me happy .
Wednesday, I break into the houses they’re dismantling and steal every nail and screw I can find. It puts them half a day behind, but they buy more and keep going.
It’s hard to know who’s more irritated: them at all the setbacks or me at how fucking resilient they are.
By Thursday, I have to let it all out. They’ve forced me into playing a game that I don’t have time for, a game they’re set on winning. I’m not used to being out of control, and I hate every second of them existing in my town.
So I take a sledgehammer to the windows of the houses they’ve already gutted, and the sound of shattering glass has Hudson storming outside.
He’s half-dressed, and his expression darkens as muscles strain on either side of his wide jaw.
Vicious satisfaction spikes through me to see him finally ready to snap.
“What the hell are you doing?” he shouts, red in the face, still struggling into his T-shirt. “That’s destruction of property!”
“What is?” I smash the nearest window for good measure.
“That!” He starts toward me, but I lift the sledgehammer toward him in warning and wait for him to stop. Once I’m sure he’s not going to come any closer, I set it over my shoulder.
“Says who?”
“Says the law .”
I take a slow step closer to him, loving the way my proximity riles him up. “There are no laws out here.” Then I swing hard at the house. Timber splinters under the blow, and my muscles work to tug the metal head out of the shallow hole. “Call the cops. Go on.”
Hudson spends a moment chewing on his words, glare cutting deeper into the timber than my sledgehammer did. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“I don’t like you.”
“I dunno …” A twisted smile crosses his face, and he steps so cl ose he slams his chest against mine. I rock back a step from the impact. “You had no issues pinning me to the bed the other night.”
He’s trying to get under my skin, and unfortunately, it works. My teeth grind together, and I have to unlock my jaw to reply. “I pin a lot of people to a lot of beds. Liking them isn’t a requirement.”
“Well, don’t I feel special?”
“Fuck you.”
He bats those obscenely long eyelashes at me. “Are you offering?”
“I’m not fucking playing with you,” I snap. “And if you stay here, I promise I will make every day a living hell.”
“Might want to try a bit harder, then.”
“Don’t act like I haven’t gotten to you.”
Hudson reaches up and pats my scruffy cheek, but I jerk away from his touch. “Of course you have. You’ve made it so much more fun than I thought.”
“Fun?” I set the head of the sledgehammer against his sternum and give it a little shove.
Hudson’s the one who staggers back this time, even as he tries to stubbornly hold his ground.
Movement out of the corner of my eye tells me his brothers have stepped outside too, but neither of them comes closer.
No. Those two are scared of me … so why isn’t Hudson?
“Yeah,” he answers. “Fun. Ever heard of that before? Or is it all hunting animals and building mud huts out here?”
“You won’t be around long enough to find out the answer.”
His eyes flash, dangerously green in the sunlight. “Why do you want us gone so badly?”
“We don’t like outsiders.”
“What about the people who owned this place before we did? Did you try to drive them out too? Is that why they sold? ”
The fact that he didn’t do even the most basic research before buying Wilde’s End only pisses me off more. “Bert’s owned this place since before I moved here. He came in, did maintenance, and then he went straight back to where he came from.”
“You want us to maintain this place, for you, for free, while you get to live here all you like?”
He’s deliberately twisting my words, but I don’t know how to argue against it. That was the arrangement, but it’s not like we ever asked for it. Bert just showed up and moved on.
I’m done with getting off track.
“I want you to take your brothers. And leave. I’ve been very clear about that.”
“But what you haven’t been clear on is why. I’m a curious guy. I can’t walk away without answers.”
I’m ninety percent sure he doesn’t actually want to know why, but I ignore my better judgment and answer the question anyway. “We like Wilde’s End the way it is. We’ve worked hard to make it into something special, and we don’t want people coming up this way and ruining what we’ve built.”
He looks genuinely surprised by that. “Ruining? This place is falling apart. We’re making it better .”
“And then what will you do once it’s better?
” I push. We’re less than a foot apart, staring each other down, and I swear I can see a debate going on behind his eyes.
Hudson might be attractive, stubborn, and impulsive, but he’s not the type of man I will ever see eye to eye with.
Pretty, rich, self-destructive guys were my weakness before I moved here, and I’ve done everything in my power to distance myself from men like him.
Not only are they a threat to Wilde’s End, but Hudson is a very real threat to the person I’ve become.
His internal debate comes to an end, and he steps forward, clearly expecting me to retreat, and when I don’t, his face lights up.
“When we’re done here, we’ll sell the dream.
Remote luxury for people with more money than brains.
My brothers and I are onto a gold mine, and nothing you say is going to stop us from making bank. ”
“The last people who moved here after a windfall are all gone. I was here long before, and I’ll be here long after you and your brothers realize this is a fruitless effort. You want money?” I sneer in his face. “Buy a lotto ticket. Our town isn’t for sale.”
“Considering I bought it, I strongly disagree.”
If I ever see Bert again in my life, I’m going to have words for that man. “Fine. Name your price.”
Surprise lights up his face. “Ah … what?”
“Name your price. What will you sell it for?”
His eyes do that thing where they search each of mine, like they’re looking for answers. It’s instinctive to look away, but I force myself to meet his piercing stare. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“You really think you can afford this place?”
“I can.”
Amusement takes over as he turns his head to look at the buildings, and my focus drops to his scruffy jawline. He’s far too close, but stepping back will look weak, and I refuse to give him the upper hand. “Ten million dollars.”
“What?”
“No, you’re right,” he says on a laugh. “That doesn’t divide three ways equally. Let’s go twelve.”
“Twelve?”
“Yes.”
“Million?”
“I can change it to a B if you like.”
My hand tightens on the handle of the sledgehammer. “It’s not worth that. ”
“You asked for my price. You’ve got it.” Then the bastard blows me a kiss. I jolt away from him, and like that, I give Hudson the win.
He tugs his sunglasses out of his shorts and slides them onto his face. “When you have an answer, you know where to find me.”
The damn city boy turns on his heel and makes his way back to his brothers. Rage is rushing through my ears, and while I have a reputation for being quiet and grumpy, I never actively lose my cool.
Not anymore.
Not since …
I swallow the regret and anger down, then grab the sledgehammer in both hands and swing it back over my shoulder. I bring it down on the stone front steps again, and again, and again, until all that’s left is rubble and a dust cloud that clogs my lungs.
I’m breathing heavily, shoulders straining, and as the sound ringing in my ears fades, another echoes toward me.
Hudson’s … clapping.
I turn my hard look on him, and he stops, but his smile doesn’t shift.
“Thanks for that.” His words echo in the distance between us.
“Removing those was our next job. You saved us the effort.” He glances over at his smaller brother.
“What do you think? He saved us … a day? Makes up for all the time we lost shifting the lumber.” Despite his light words, he returns my hard eye contact.
I bite my tongue through the insults I want to hurl his way. “These houses will never be sold.”
I’m too mad to stick around, so I turn my back on them and leave. My truck is parked where the road meets the gravel, and I gun the engine as I take off into the trees.
Hudson’s lack of reaction has me rattled. It’s only been a few days though, and while we’ve hit them hard in a lot of ways, problems are easy enough to ignore when they’re short-term. Give me days, weeks, months if they last that long. I’m going to wear them down.
I’m going to be here every day, making sure they know they’re not welcome.
Old End is a graveyard of memories, and if I need to burn the place to the ground, I will. Given how easily fires get out of control out here though, that will be a last resort.
But I’ll do it if I have to.
Because Hudson confirmed exactly what I knew he would.
They’re in this for the money, and once they’re done, they’ll sell the places off to an influx of strangers, and Wilde’s End will never be the same again.
I’ll be dead before I let that happen.