Chapter 29
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
HUDSON
F eeling happy shouldn’t be this off-putting, but there’s literally nothing that could have brought it on. It’s like I have this little spark in my chest, and whenever I try to fall into bad thoughts, the spark jolts me back to this sense that good is coming.
There’s no other way to explain it, so I’m going to hope it means something and that I don’t get let down.
The external frame of house two is done, which means we really have to decide on whether we’re going to commit to bricking the whole thing or going with a more modern finish like metal.
Wilde’s End gets hot in summer but is supposed to snow in the winter, so we have to make sure we cover all bases.
Insulation is a must, but we can’t fucking decide on what to do first.
“Did you hear that?” Kennedy asks, cutting through my thoughts.
I look around the gutted room. “What? ”
There’s a pause as the three of us strain our ears for a sound, but there’s nothing other than the birds outside.
“What did it sound like?” I ask.
“Hmm … An animal, maybe?”
“We are in bumfuck nowhere,” Hart reminds him.
“No, but in the house.”
I stop to listen again, and my brothers do the same. There’s still nothing. I’m about to call Kennedy out on making up the sound to distract us from what to do on the exterior walls when deep rwwwoal beats me to talking.
“Okay, that I heard.”
“Sounded like a cat,” Hart murmurs, turning back to the plans.
A cat? That tickles the fight or flight in my brain when I remember that feral bobcat I came across. What if there’s a whole feral family of them and they came to eat our faces?
I get up and head in the direction the noise came from. It was more toward the front of the house, I think, and I strain my ears over my heavy footsteps in case it comes again. There’s nothing.
Until I open the front door. With the snick of the door, a gust of cold breeze rushes inside. The dark storm clouds are sitting low and heavy above us, and on the bottom step of the house?—
A bobcat.
I have no idea if it’s the same one or not, but considering it’s larger than I’ve ever heard of a bobcat getting, there’s a good chance it is. As soon as it sees me, it shifts upright, fur prickling around its shoulders, little razor teeth bared as that deep rwoal vibrates in its chest.
“Fuck off!” I tell it, one eye on the animal as I search either side of me for something to throw.
Its tail twitches in agitation.
“Move.” I stomp forward, trying to scare it. The giant cat doesn’t react. “Get the fuck out of here! ”
I hear my brothers approaching behind me, but they lose my attention when the cat isn’t alone.
“That wasn’t very hospitable.” The voice comes before the man. Devoid of emotion, but not in the bored way that Hart has perfected, it’s the kind of voice that makes that spark in my chest die.
The man who steps into my view doesn’t make me feel any better either.
There’s nothing friendly in his tight expression.
My gaze runs from his red hair, shaved on one side, long and wild on the other, to his tense arm muscles, to the knife he’s holding.
Though I’m not sure that thing can be called a knife when it’s as long as my forearm.
My arms fly out to grip the doorframe on either side of me, trying to block my brothers from view.
“What the fuck …” Kennedy squeaks.
“What do you want?” I ask the man.
“I thought city boys were supposed to have manners.” His voice is low and hums with the tension of keeping it there. “First, you scare poor Bob. Then you shout at him. And now you haven’t even bothered with introductions.”
I have no idea what game he’s playing, but as long as he stays down there and I stay up here, I’m going to play along. “Hudson. Who are you?”
His smile is chilling. “Lynx.”
I’ve heard that name. Where have I heard it though? Probably from Wilde, and the way it spiked worry in my gut means whatever he said wasn’t great.
“Ah … you’ve heard of me.”
“No,” I lie. “But I remember Bob.”
Lynx’s gaze drops to the bobcat. “Most people do. He’s not very friendly.”
“I’ve noticed. ”
“Not like me.” Lynx’s eyes are cold when they meet mine.
I swallow thickly, fingers aching with how tight my grip has gotten. “You’re friendly?”
“Life of the party, some would say.”
“Funny. Most friendly guys don’t carry around machetes.”
“Occupational hazard.” His head tips to inspect my brothers. “You’re twins.”
“They are,” I say before they can answer. When it comes to this man, I want my brothers left out of it.
“Ominous.”
While I want to ask why, I also don’t want this conversation to go on longer than it needs to. “Why are you here?” Now I sound like Wilde.
“The three of you have stirred up Wilde’s End. I wanted to see what all the fuss is about.”
“Well, you’ve seen. Now you can go.”
Lynx’s eyes narrow, and Bob makes a warning sound. “You don’t make the rules in the End, little boy.”
“This is my town.” I sound a whole lot more confident than I am.
“You think money and some deeds get you ownership out here?” His laugh sounds all wrong as it’s eaten by a rumble overhead. “I tolerate Wilde. I won’t tolerate you.”
Lynx steps onto the bottom stair, and Bob moves toward me to give him room. I’m coiled and ready for any sudden movements when a sheet of light rain breaks free of the clouds.
“Go away and you won’t need to tolerate me at all.”
Lynx taps the machete against the stair rail. “What are you doing in this town?”
“Renovating.”
“Why?”
“That’s our business. ”
Lynx looks down at Bob. “Did you hear that? His business, he says.” Cold eyes meet mine again. “It would be a shame to have to get my answers by cutting them from your head.”
I’m done with this. I’m about to shove my brothers back inside and slam the door on Lynx—though what we’d do after that I have no fucking clue, considering the whole back of the house is missing—when the sound of an engine makes us all turn.
Wilde’s faded red truck comes into view, rolling to a stop on the road just down from us. He climbs out of the driver’s side when Ziggy climbs out of the other.
“Lynx,” he calls. “I thought I forbade you from coming here.”
Lynx spins his machete with impressive confidence. “You did.”
“Then why the fuck didn’t you listen?”
“Because you failed at getting rid of them. You can’t expect a teddy bear to do an animal’s job.”
“This teddy bear is doing fine.”
I’m still tense, still holding my brothers back, but having Lynx’s attention off me, even if that demon cat is still staring my way, makes it a fraction easier to breathe.
“Fine?” Lynx cackles, but it cuts off too fast, and when he speaks, that chilling nothingness is back. “You were both looking very fine down by the swimming hole yesterday.”
It takes me a moment to realize he saw us. I could hope it was only while we were swimming, but the pointedness to his words makes me think it was more than that. “You were perving on us?”
“You were out. In public. I assumed you wanted me to stay for the whole filthy show.” He lifts his machete my way. “You’re lucky I didn’t trip and land this in your back.”
“What we did was none of your business.”
“This whole town is my business. See, I’m the pest control in these parts. And you …” He sneers my way. “ You’re the biggest pest we’ve ever had.”
“That’s enough,” Wilde snaps. “I told you I’d handle it, and I will handle it.”
“Tick tock …” Lynx whispers through the building rain. “I don’t play well with patience.”
Wilde stalks toward him. “You don’t make demands of me.”
“Indeed, my liege, but don’t forget. The only demands you make are the ones I let you get away with.”
“Threaten me one more time—” Wilde’s hands close over Lynx’s shirt, and before he can finish his sentence, the cat pounces.
It smacks into Wilde’s side, jaw locking over his neck as it takes a swipe at his face with one large paw.
I’m moving before I notice I am. My shoulder slams into Lynx’s back, throwing him from the bottom step into Wilde and the stupid cat, and the three of them hit the wet road.
I haul Lynx away, tossing him to the side before he can take a swing at me with the machete, and Wilde snarls as he throws the cat off him.
Then he looks down at his outer thigh and the blood seeping through his jeans.
My gut bottoms out, and I’m about to drop down beside him and make sure he’s okay when Wilde pushes unsteadily to his feet.
“For fuck’s sake. I have Peril next week!”
Lynx straightens, body coiled like an animal about to pounce. “The city boy pushed me.”
“If I catch you here again, I’ll be calling a town meeting.”
“Call a town meeting,” Lynx spits, and the careful detachment is gone, replaced by a feral growl. “And I can’t promise you’ll wake to see it. ”
They stare each other down, and surprisingly, Wilde is the first to let it drop.
“I’ve told you to control that stupid thing,” he grunts, pointing at Bob.
“And I’ve told you to try controlling a wild animal.”
I’m panting as I look from Wilde to Lynx and back. Bob’s golden eyes are locked on Wilde, and I’m not so sure it isn’t going to attack again.
Lynx’s head snaps my way. “You get one warning. Don’t make me come back here.”
“That sounds like a you choice.”
His eyes narrow for a second before he leaves, Bob lingering for too long to be comfortable before he follows Lynx off the road and into the trees.
As soon as they’re gone, I turn to Wilde, but Ziggy has beat me to him. Ziggy is shoving Wilde back toward the truck.
“I told you I’m fine,” Wilde hisses.
“You don’t look so fine,” Kennedy argues. “You need that doctor of yours.”
“Lynx hardly got me.”
But his jeans are soaked through with rain and blood, so it’s impossible to know. Even though Wilde doesn’t sound like he’s stressing, the way my heart is racing makes it clear that I am. “I’ll drive you,” I say, which gets a sharp and short laugh from Ziggy.
“What?”
Wilde glowers at his friend. “No one drives me anywhere.”
“You’re injured.”
“ Barely .”
We glare at each other, and like with Lynx, Wilde cuts contact first.
“Fine. I’ll see Booker. But I’ll drive my damn self. ”
He turns, leaving us all behind as he tries to hide the way he’s limping for his truck. He’s not getting away that easily.
Wilde’s just closed his door behind him when I reach the passenger one and pull it open. I’d feel bad for dripping all over his truck’s seat if he wasn’t bleeding all over his.
“I’m coming with you,” I tell him.
He huffs. “Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse.”
I’m about to remind him that this isn’t my ideal day either when I notice something for the first time.
His face. His actual face.
“You shaved.”
Wilde ignores me as he pulls away.
But I can’t stop looking at him. At his pretty bowed lips, at his jawline, at the way his whole face feels open and the more I look, the closer I’m getting to his secrets.
That little spark in my chest comes back alive.