Boundaries (Love in Norfolk #1)

One

Boundaries

noun

A line which marks the limits of an area; a dividing line.

The Present

“What the fuck do you want?”

There was no doubt about it. Even though we were now adults, Mason McKenna was still a giant dick.

I exhaled moodily. The realisation that my good day was about to nose dive was like ordering a Big Mac, but being served with a shit sandwich.

What the heck was Mason doing there? Mattie had told me that Mason had gone to the Royal Norfolk Show with his parents. Something he did, every year. So why the fuck was I now looking at that smug, too-handsome-for-his-own-good face? My palms itched. How I’d love to break that perfect nose. Knock something off-kilter. Give the other blokes a fighting chance.

Mason McKenna was annoying. There was no doubt about that, but whilst his personality was lacking, his sex appeal was not.

It was just my luck that this McKenna wasn’t where he should have been. I quickly scanned the area. At least Mason was alone, and none of his friends or brothers were there to back him up. I couldn’t deal with them all in one serving, it was just too much.

After hearing some troubling news about my younger sister and this boy’s brother, I was there to see Boyd McKenna alone. I would probably have to abort my mission now, as getting past Mason wouldn’t be easy. It’s not like I could just breeze past the guy.

My eyes zoomed in on the tower of confidence before me, but I was unimpressed. Mason walked the earth as if he owned it. And most people believed that shit he peddled, but not I, to me the boy was a social deviant with a chip on his shoulder the size of a mountain. Yes, he was as fit as fuck, but his obnoxiousness made me see past what was on the outside. This guy was mean to the bone. His dad used to treat him like shit so go figure. Despite the beatings he’d received, Mason still had a God Complex.

It didn’t help that his younger brothers also stroked his ego. They also believed he was some type of Messiah. Both Boyd and Seth idolised the man. They dressed like him, styled their hair that same stupid way, and attempted to copy all his mannerisms, which they radically failed to do. No one could mimic Mason McKenna. He was unreproducible. The friends that completed his posse were also wannabees and swarmed around him like flies to shit. Whenever they were out in the village, they shadowed him like they were part of his security detail. Fucking losers.

Mason wore a heavy frown on that flawlessly sculptured face of his. “I take it you’re lost, as you know you’re not fucking welcome on our property, Amy. So why don’t you turn around and take your sweet arse home,” Mason huffed. Boy, he was in a mood. No change there then.

He had a point, of course. The sticky stuff would hit the fan if my family found out about my little trip behind enemy lines. Stepping foot on McKenna soil was strictly against the rules. If my father knew where I was, I would be in big trouble. But I was there for a purpose, and it was important.

Mason had been under his Toyota pickup as I’d approached from the long driveway. To get to their house, you had to pass two large barns where Mr McKenna stored feed for his livestock. It was also the place where the workshop was located, and so any farming equipment that needed fixing was brought there for attention. Hence Mason’s current location. I’d once seen him bare-chested doing pull-ups off the door frame there. That would have been the first time I’d admitted that, whilst he may annoy the hell out of me; Mason was now an attractive man with a body made for sin. I remember that contraction of his biceps as he’d moved, the flat plane of his washboard stomach and the broad expanse of his chest. It was tongue-hanging-out stuff, but I’d soon managed to wind mine back in. His repugnant personality easily held me at bay from those types of thoughts .

And now here we were, stalemate as usual. As I’d spied his booted feet sticking out from under the vehicle, I’d almost turned and legged it, but he’d heard the crunch of gravel under my feet. Mason had dragged himself out from under there like he was suddenly under attack. And of course, he wasn’t, well, not today anyway. Today, I had just come to talk to Boyd.

After dusting off his jeans, he’d stalked around the side of the car, standing in front of the raised bonnet, doing that glaring thing he did so well. A look that must have taken years to master. Out of all his brothers, Mason was the proverbial beast of the threshold. The chances of me getting to see Boyd, had just dropped from slim to not happening.

At least he’d stopped what he was doing and had faced me. I usually had to have a conversation with the back of his fucking head. The guy was never still. Mason was a doer and was always tinkering with something. Today, it appeared to be his truck, a battered Toyota Tacoma. It was the same one he’d had years ago when I used to let his tyres down. Until he’d cottoned on that it was me. Ooh, how the shit had hit the fan.

“Did you hear what I said? Do one.” He adorned his comment with a jab of his thumb toward the main gates into his property.

Scrunching my nose, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him through squinted eyes. “That’s not very neighbourly,” I pointed out in a frosty tone, coming to a standstill in front of him. Not within touching distance though, that would be way too ballsy.

He quirked me a sardonic look.

“I wouldn’t say I ever feel neighbourly around you, Amy. Pissed off, mind-numbingly frustrated maybe. But neighbourly, nope,” he drawled out in a gruff voice. It was the type of sound that you could almost feel; like the pitch had the power to reach out and touch you. It could also tune into that frequency which communicated with one’s lady parts, apparently . Not that I knew that first-hand.

Built like a tank at well over six feet tall, with a bronzed body stacked with rock-hard muscle and a boy band-worthy face. Mason McKenna physically, was a gift to womankind. They regularly celebrated him in the village as being one of the hottest of the McKenna brothers and they were all pretty fit. He had one of those smiles that sat somewhere between a sneer and sexual suggestiveness. He probably could encourage a girl to drop her knickers by thought alone. Not mine, of course. Where Mason was concerned, my underwear was welded on. The guy was no doubt riddled, and I cared too much about personal hygiene to go there.

Yep, Mason was a looker all right, it was just a shame that the guy needed a massive personality transplant.

I stood there feeling defensive as his eyes roamed rudely over my body. “Nice outfit,” he sneered with a condescending edge. “What there is of it. I’m surprised Daddy let you out dressed like that.”

I dropped my arms and looked down at my clothes. The cheeky sod. I was wearing shorts and a top. It was summer for Christ’s sake. Annoyance coated my insides.

He cleared his throat. “You look like a sex worker.”

My gasp left my body like it was squeezed from me. “I do not look like a sex worker.”

He shrugged his huge shoulders, “I’m just saying, you’re asking for it dressed like that,” Mason stated confidently with a flick of his head.

“Asking for what ?” I blasted back, feeling thoroughly offended.

“I don’t know. Being taken from behind, maybe?” Mason suggested, with an evocative quirk to his eyebrow.

This had become a regular thing over the last few weeks. Mason’s usual staid banter had turned more sexually suggestive, and I didn’t know why. What the heck had changed? He’d probably realised how taunts of that nature knocked me out of my comfort zone. Especially coming from him.

“You are such a disgusting pig.”

His lip curled in the semblance of a smile. “I try my best.” He was totally unperturbed. My mardy monitor kicked off like a Geiger counter.

I adopted my best snooty face. I had polished it to perfection over the years.

“It’s hot. I’m dressed for the weather. It’s a practical outfit,” I muttered in my defence.

Mason snorted. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “It’s not fucking practical at all, having half your arse showing, and you don’t have a practical bone in your body, Amy. ”

What the actual fuck. He hadn’t even seen my arse in my denim cut-offs. I hadn’t shown him my back. I’d been standing, facing him the entire time. It was probably all in his imagination, the dirty-minded sod.

Light danced in his eyes, and I could see he was messing with me. Irritating bastard. He knew exactly what buttons to press. I was very particular about my appearance. What can I say, I was eighteen and at that age when everything was about how you look. It also didn’t help that I had a sister who was much prettier than me.

Mason’s mouth was still moving, “Honestly, I’d go and change if I were you.”

Here we go again. I was so sick of sparring with this guy. It had always been this way, ever since we were children. Although without the recent sexual ingredient. That one was new.

“Well, you’re not me, so piss off,” I grunted.

“Witty comeback,” Mason deadpanned.

“Up yours. You know, the world wouldn’t end if you were to be nice to me for two minutes, Mason,” I replied, almost losing the will.

“And why would I want to do that? Being mean to you is much more fun,” he grunted, shooting a glance toward his eyesore of a house which loomed in the distance like a huge mistake.

They had built their mansionbrand new over the last few years and it wasn’t in keeping with the other properties in the area. Ostentatious didn’t touch the sides. It was an improvement on their last house, however. The one I used to hide beneath as a child, until some clever fucker had torched the place. And no, contrary to what the McKenna’s believed, the Taylor-Joy’s had nothing to do with that. The police had fully investigated the incident, and the results had been inconclusive. There had been a few properties in the area around that time that had also suffered from fire. Eventually, arsonhadbeen a suggestion, but there had never been any proof.

I’d been almost thirteen at the time, and had photographed the aftermath with one of my cameras. A Canon F1 that my dad had given me. It was vintage and took camera film. That had been the year that my parents had fed my hobby and had turned one of the cellars in our farmhouse into a darkroom .

I still had the photographs, but I was the only person that had ever seen them. I was proud of what I had captured, the shots were raw and quite poignant, but had never told anyone I was there. How could I? My family had already been suspects initially, and I didn’t want to give any extra weight to those accusations.

Pushing thoughts of the past aside, I attempted the olive branch thing, “Look, I’ve done nothing to you recently.” I had of course done loads in the past. Proper nasty shit growing up, but we were adults now. Wasn’t it time to move the fuck on?

“Your family has done enough and their blood runs through your veins so sorry, but purely by association alone, you’re on my shit list.”

I wafted a fly away from my face and scratched my neck with my fingertips. It was a warm day, and the sun felt angry on my skin. Or was it Mason’s pissed-off expression that was responsible for that burning sensation?

He was watching me with penetrative eyes. They were sly eyes that missed nothing . Sometimes I felt like he could read my thoughts and of course, I was happy for him to do that, then he’d know just how low my opinion was of him. He was a tool of the worst kind.

“Fine. Whatever. I didn’t come here to trade insults with you.”

“No?” Mason questioned with a twist of his lips.

My shoulders dropped. Now, I’d have to explain the reason for my visit, “No. I came to see Boyd, actually. We have a little business to discuss.”

He didn’t like that and his large body stiffened. A tell-tale sign of an approaching man tantrum. Mason McKenna had a short fuse and it wasn’t wise to be the one to light it.

“And what business would you have to discuss with my little brother?”

Little? I almost cracked a smile at that one. Boyd McKenna wasn’t that shy of Mason’s height. All the McKenna children were tall and well-built and without an ounce of fat on their ridiculously toned torsos.

I folded my arms across my chest again and stepped forward. Hooking my chin toward him, attempting to appear unintimidated. If you showed weakness in front of this guy, he tore you a new one .

I shuffled even closer, what I had to say needed to be kept as private as possible. “Spoiler alert but he isn’t so little anymore. It turns out, he’s growing up real fast,” I explained, attempting to reference sexual maturity rather than height.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Mason blasted. Jesus, he was wired.

My tone dipped. “I have some bad news I’m afraid. I heard Boyd and Chrissy were getting off with each other at the village car boot last weekend.”

A strange expression flickered over his features before he turned away, showing me his broad back, starting to root around under the bonnet of his car like I wasn’t even there.

“Here we go.” His words were quiet, almost like he was talking to himself. My arms fell to my hips and I planted them there, now in full attack mode. I hated being ignored.

It was a breezy summer afternoon in July and I could have spent my morning sunbathing but no, I’d put myself out with the intention of giving one of the McKenna boys a word of warning. To stay away from my sister. Mason could have been more accommodating. Just by being there, I was putting my neck on the line. As I said before, if my father knew I was there, he would turn me into fertiliser and use me in one of his fields.

Refusing to be snubbed, I changed my stance and shifted to the side of the beat-up piece of shit he was working on. No wonder he had the bonnet up, the thing was probably older than me.

He glanced up, his eyes briefly tangling with mine and I raised my eyebrows before I gave him my sources.

“Betty and James told me, and so I want to know if your player of a brother is trying it on with our Chrissy?” If he was affected by my words, he didn’t show it. His face was totally blank.

Boyd was eighteen and my sister was sixteen and although the age gap was slight, it was their surnames that created the real distance.

Mason pushed himself off the truck with one hand and straightened, gracing me with his attention again .

“So, you’re worried that there’s more to it and Boyd is doing your sister?” Mason stated, shooting me a look of impatience as he grabbed an oil-stained rag and wiped his fingers. I noticed a muscle in his jaw ticked, the only sign that my news had ruffled him. He too would be upset about any more messed-up unions between our siblings, just as much as me. And I say any more unions, as my older sister Jenna was unfortunately, still married to Mason’s older prick of a brother, Nixon.

I batted off that unpalatable fact, “Well, I’m praying they’re not at that stage yet. Just a kiss I heard. Unless you know something, I don’t?” I delivered, dashing a hand across my mouth. Boyd McKenna’s name on my lips made them feel as if they were infected. He was a proper little shit. We were the same age, but I was way more mature and interesting. Boyd’s brain was only big enough to have one thing on his mind at a time, and that was usually what girls kept in their jeans. And no, I didn’t mean lipstick!

Mason moved closer to me and I took a step back. He was one of those, in-your-face types of guys and I certainly didn’t want to share the same air with him.

He perched his hip against the side of the car like he was posing for a photo shoot and crossed his huge arms over his chest. He wore his usual outfit, baggy jeans that sat low on his hips, a checked shirt with the sleeves rolled back, revealing his muscular forearms and work boots. s with steel toe caps. I knew that having once come a cropper during an altercation with him which had led to me stomping on his foot. My actions in turn, had led to a broken toe, a visit to the hospital and my tail between my legs. In every fight we’d had in the past, Mason McKenna was the one who came out on top. I never won.

The silence stretched between us and I prompted. “Well?”

“It’s probably village gossip, but even if this taboo kiss does involve Boyd, why do you care so much? Is this your way of saying you have a crush on my brother?”

OMG, I think I just threw up in my mouth. “ Absolutely not. I’d rather eat glass.”

“That’s a bit extreme,” Mason chuckled.

Deep grooves must have appeared on my forehead, I was frowning so hard it hurt. “I’m worried. The thought of any more of my family members getting involved with yours, is giving me a rash. Tell Boyd to stay away from Chrissy. ”

He untangled one arm to itch his jaw, those sure fingers against his bristles making a scratching sound. “I generally steer clear of tangling myself up in my brother’s bullshit and so I think I’ll pass. You don’t even have any fucking facts. As usual, you’re jumping the gun. Running your mouth off, before you know what’s going on.”

He made to turn back to his task, but I placed my fingers on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He glanced down toward where my slender boned hand touched his skin. My colouring appeared stark white against his sun-kissed appendage. He worked outside every day on the farm, I didn’t. What can you do? I so needed to top up my tan.

A strange sensation fizzled through my fingers and I quickly removed my hand. Did he just give me an electric shock? My skin was tingling. Fisting my palm, I dropped my arm and shot him a look that said it all.

“At least talk to him, find out if there is any truth in it. Do me a favour for once in your life.”

“I think you’re well out of favours where I’m concerned,” he snapped.

His dismissive reaction amped up the wattage of my temper.

Mason dropped his arms and rolled his shoulders. “Why don’t you speak with your sister?” he pointed out with a flick of his hand. His tone suggested he was now mildly annoyed. He obviously didn’t like me telling him what to do, but then all the McKenna boys had an issue with authority.

I exhaled noisily. Speak to my sister indeed. As if I hadn’t already tried that. “I have. She denied it and says she hasn’t got a clue what I’m talking about.”

Mason shook his dark head, his eyes briefly looking me up and down. He did it quickly, but I saw him checking me out. I sure hoped he didn’t get any ideas of that nature.

“And Boyd, being Boyd will say the same I imagine. What makes you think he’ll listen to me?”

“You’re a God to him. He does anything you say,” I pointed out, the words shooting from my mouth like gunfire .

He shrugged those massive shoulders, “Not anymore. Since he turned eighteen, he appears to be wearing his big boy pants. He does his own thing and is a stubborn little fucker now.”

“He’s not the only one,” I said under my breath.

“Sorry?” Mason shot back with a head tilt.

“You will be if you don’t do something about this approaching nightmare?”

“You don’t know if it’s true Amy,” Mason repeated his point from earlier.

“I know that there’s no smoke without fire.” The words were out before I could draw them back. Oops. Mason’s face darkened. “Sorry, no offence,” I added with an awkward smile. The McKenna family were touchy about fire for obvious reasons.

“None taken,” he managed with an uncaring tone. Mason was a master of the poker face.

“Well?” I repeated.

He sighed, “Well, what?” Mason arched one of those perfect eyebrows, part of me wondered if he had the things threaded, they were that neat. I shooed off the thought, as if Mason would ever be arsed enough to go to that level of grooming. He and his brothers were men’s men and probably never looked in the mirror. Not that they needed to, they were just lucky to have been born naturally attractive. Women magnets. And again, I stress. Not to me.

“Well? Will you say something or do I have to get involved?” I prompted as Mason watched me in brooding silence.

“You’re already too involved Amy. You should learn to keep your nose out of other people’s business. You did the exact same thing with Nixon and Jenna. Get a life of your own, and lose the obsession with what your sisters are doing.”

I ignored his obnoxious comment about getting a life of my own. I cared about my family, I was only looking out for them, wasn’t I?

I shook off the doubt his comment created, like I was an interfering busybody that had nothing better to do. He was such a git. Why did I let him get to me so much?

“If you don’t do something Mason, I will, and it may not be nice,” I snapped out my warning.

He quirked an eyebrow, “Is that your attempt to threaten me, little girl? ”

“No. I’m just giving you a heads up,” I back peddled, not liking how he rose to the bait. As I said, his temper was usually on a hair trigger.

Mason didn’t allow my retreat, “Let me guess. You’re going to let Boyd’s tyres down? I would advise against that. He’s had his Audi for around a week now and if he suddenly gets a flat, he’ll know it’s you and please take it from me. My brother’s type of retaliation would probably be something moronic. It would totally fuck over your ‘may not be nice’ threat, put it that way. Your childish pranks belong in the past,” Mason cautioned.

I almost stamped my foot which would have mirrored exactly what he’d just said. Instead, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my denim cut-offs.

He observed the movement and the message in his eyes changed as he blatantly scrutinised my bare legs. It made me want to push my thighs together, I suddenly felt exposed.

I attempted to pull the leg of one of my shorts down, a lame effort to cover myself and he smirked.

He really was a son of a bitch and I wanted to scratch his face and draw blood. I wondered fleetingly what colour that would be, green?

His appraisal made me feel self-conscious. And that was an unusual occurrence for me. I knew I was considered hot stuff; a bit on the slim side, but I had curves in all the right places, long chocolate-brown hair, a cute turned-up nose, good lips and the greenest eyes ever. My sister called them cat eyes. My skin was also flawless to the point where I didn’t really need makeup and I had a beauty spot in the exact same place as Marilyn. There were loads of girls in the village that were jealous of me.

I was a Taylor-Joy and the Taylor-Joy girls were considered the prettiest sisters in our part of Norfolk. We were all blessed with beauty.

Chrissy was the youngest and currently living life vicariously, having just finished her exams at High School. I just hoped she wasn’t living-it-up with Boyd McKenna in tow. The thought sank like lead in my stomach.

Jenna was the eldest Taylor-Joy, at twenty-one and she truly was what an angel in human form would look like. Stunning . She was quite small, but if she had been taller, she would have been a runway model, I was sure of it. She could still have been signed up for photogenic work. I had taken hundreds of pictures of her with my cameras over the years, but she was shy. She’d been horrified when I had suggested she send her picture to one of the modelling agencies in London.

Jenna possessed pale white blonde hair and crystal blue eyes, like the Indian Ocean during the summer. Her skin was also flawless, creamy, and pale without blemish; you just didn’t see girls like her in Norfolk.

Although temporarily separated, she was still married to Mason’s brother Nixon. He was like a storm cloud that rode roughshod over everything she did.

As I alluded to earlier, the McKenna men were a breed of their own.

With Jenna, it wasn’t just her looks. She was perfect in every way, from the outside all the way through to her sweet core. She had no hidden agendas but currently, she was delicate, her level of vulnerability unnerving. Like Achilles though, every perfect specimen had to have a weakness. The name of that weakness; Nixon McKenna.

Nixon had broken her heart. Unfortunately, he still owned every cracked inch of it.

“Look, let’s speak to them together, both of us. Make them see sense. It’s not like it can go anywhere. Do you want history to repeat itself?” I was of course referring to the car crash that was our siblings’ marriage.

Mason shifted his hip off the truck and uncurled himself to his full height, taking a step forward. He now towered over me and I raised my head to keep my beady eyes on him. I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.

“I couldn’t really give a shit to be honest. So, you can forget about tag-teaming it,” Mason replied in a curt voice. He was now tired of our conversation. It never took him long; patience and this man didn’t share the same stratosphere.

“You will give a shit when we’re faced with the Nixon and Jenna Show Part Two,” I flipped out there. “McKenna boys and Taylor-Joy girls, just don’t fit together.”

There was a strange look on his face, something I hadn’t seen before. At least not directed at me. I didn’t like it, it was unnerving. My boyfriend Alex wouldn’t appreciate a look like that either.

He and Mason were the same age at twenty-four, and that’s where their similarity ended. Alex was of medium height and thin, with a sense of humour. Mason was tall and muscular, with zero sense of humour. Like day and night really. My point was, if it ever got physical between them, Mason would wipe the floor with Alex.

“For fuck’s sake, Amy, you’ve gone from a suspected kiss to marrying them off. Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“No, I don’t. I had a hunch about Jenna and Nixon years ago and now look. I’m certainly not sitting back and letting another shitstorm like that enter our lives. Not whilst there is still breath left in my body.” I knew my words were dramatic but so what. I needed to get this guy to see sense.

At the word body, his eyes roamed lazily over my features. It was like Mason was suddenly hungry and I was the juiciest piece of steak.

I hated to admit it, but I suddenly felt a bit giddy. Oh, save me from predatory McKenna men.

This one wasn’t usually that bad. It was only recently that he’d started down the sexual innuendo route. Boyd had been showering me with pervy comments for years and I’d seen Seth, the youngest, watching me when he thought I wasn’t looking. The eldest McKenna usually didn’t make eye contact with me, and I was thankful for that. Him being with my sister. Nixon was the most intimidating of the bunch.

My unwanted brother-in-law, was a bastard of the first kind. A large, moody, controlling alpha male. Like the types, you read about in the dark Young Adult romance books I read. He so didn’t belong lording it over my sweet Jenna. He’d had his eye on her for years, had swooped in there, done the damage and then fucked off back into the army.

He was now on tour in Helmand. Hopefully, there was a landmine out there with his name on it. And of course, I was joking. I didn’t want the guy dead; just nowhere near my sister.

“What if I’m right and things get serious?” I pointed out with a flick of my head.

“I can’t imagine Boyd getting serious over any girl, but if he’s getting laid, good luck to him.”

I hated the fact that Mason had suggested sex was on the cards when all I’d been speaking about in the first instance was a bloody kiss! Yes, I’d raced on a bit but still. I certainly didn’t relish that thought .

There was no doubt about it, Boyd McKenna was a complete waste of space, stuffed neatly into a pair of designer jeans. He was the vainest of his brothers and honed his body in the gym rather than putting in any worthwhile graft. If he wasn’t out, he was usually vegetating in his room playing Grand Theft Auto and other shit violent Xbox games. He left the farmwork to his brothers and got away with doing fuck all basically.

I shoved my hands on my hips again and shook my head. I was devastated that he wasn’t intending on doing anything about a possible, brewing problem between our siblings.

I recalled his getting laid comment, “And no, not good luck to him, especially if he’s doing it with my sister. She’s only sixteen.”

From his impressive height, Mason shot me a lopsided smile and I wanted to thump him. “She’s still legal. Look, why don’t you just keep out of it. Fuck me, I had thought you only had a hard-on for Jenna, but it appears you’re obsessed with both your sisters. It’s unnatural, Amy.”

“Why because I care about them?”

“You care, a bit too much. You should focus more on your own life and stop stalking everyone else’s,” he suggested in a firm tone.

Cheeky git. He could have been right of course, but the day I admitted that Mason was right about anything would be, let’s see, never . I’d rather chew my own fingers off.

His cagey behaviour made me think it was Boyd and Chrissy and he was covering his brother’s back.

“If I find out any of your brothers are fucking with Chrissy, things will get ugly Mason,” I rallied up at him, planting my legs apart, my stance showing I was ready for action.

Mason stared down his perfect nose at me, his entire face betraying the fact that he found me funny.

“Bit on the titchy side to be making threats, aren’t you?” he grinned, being purposefully provocative .

“I’m stronger than I look,” I huffed, suddenly feeling warm. Had Mason moved closer or was I imagining it?

“You really don’t want to get into the ring with me sunshine,” he announced, flexing his shoulders again. His comment drew my thoughts to the fighting syndicate he and Nixon used to be part of.

“You still running that shit?” I questioned in an accusatory tone.

Mason and Nixon had set up a fighting club. It had started off as just the brothers in the ring. An excuse for them to settle their differences safely, as the rules used for professional fights had been adopted. Eventually, boys in the village had heard about the club and wanted to be part of it. Matches would then be held quite regularly until Mitchell McKenna had stopped them. Now the brothers only held fights when their parents were away.

Opponents were selected based on their body mass and experience to ensure a fair fight. Mattie said that money had recently started to exchange hands, with bets being placed on the possible victor. This, of course, had made the matches illegal.

I had witnessed one of the fights when I was younger. It was ugly stuff, seeing grown men dancing around a ring, hitting each other for kicks.

Mason and Nixon used an old horse training arena at the back of their house to hold the matches.

I thought it was dangerous. There had to be other sports that helped you deal with your shit more safely?

“Again, something else that is none of your business,” Mason replied flatly.

“You brought it up,” I pointed out with a sugary smile.

He exhaled noisily, “You make me want to forget my rule to never put my hands on a woman.” That comment sent a dart of heat through me. What the heck?

Recovering, I snapped, “Really? Bring it, dickhead,”

He shifted then, and boy he was fast. of his strong hands shot out and gripped me roughly by my non-existent bicep, it didn’t hurt, but it shocked me. My mouth dropped open in surprise. Mason McKenna hadn’t touched me like this in years. He then yanked me forward until my chest was plastered against part of his. His body was like a steel girder and I could feel every sculptured section through the thin tank top I was wearing.

I panted in surprise, glaring up at him.

“Show me tough girl, free yourself,” he baited down at me, his eyes dancing with mischief. He was enjoying himself. But of course, he would be when he had the upper hand.

I struggled and attempted to pull away, using my free hand to try and prise his fingers from my arm. Air whooshed out of my mouth.

“Let go, how dare you touch me, beast,” I panted and I then slapped the palm of my free hand flat against his rock-hard chest. God his skin was warm.

He watched my pathetic attempt to free myself with an amused expression before he grabbed my other arm and dragged me up onto my tiptoes, his head bowed, getting in my face. Our noses were almost touching as he held me there by my upper arms and I felt a jet of something rush through me; almost like excitement. What the fuck?

“I dare a great deal and you’d do well to remember that, Amy. I’m bigger, stronger , and much meaner than you. I am a fucking beast and if you provoke me, I roar ,” he growled before shoving me backwards, releasing my arms.

I stumbled and almost fell over but managed to catch my balance. My hair was plastered over my face and I flicked it back, I needed him to clearly see the deadeye I was about to deliver. That fucker would cut him right down to the bone! I was breathing heavily, trying to calm the rapid beating of my heart and that unexpected feeling. It was like my body had decided it liked this man’s hands on me. I would certainly be having words with it when I got back home.

As I recovered myself, Mason watched me with a hooded gaze. I decided to change tack, shaking that look of scorn away as I rubbed my arms where he’d held me with a pained expression. I knew it was the oldest trick in the book and thoroughly pathetic, but so fricking what. You had to work with what you’d got.

I purposefully checked my arms for bruises. Playing the victim card to the fullest.

Mason shook his head slowly with a smirk and turned back to the truck.

“I didn’t hurt you, so you can stop with the female dramatics,” he volleyed back over his shoulder .

“You did actually and I bruise really easily,” I mewed, over egging it.

He shrugged his massive shoulders in a ‘who gives a fuck’ motion and then twisted his head sideways, his expression almost carnal, a sensual attack as he growled. “I’ll remember that. We wouldn’t want to leave a mark on that creamy white skin.” Goosebumps appeared. Did I imagine that sexual energy or was I going bonkers?

I decided to try another line of attack. If I brought up the nightmare of the past, maybe it would remind him that we didn’t want to go there again. Said nightmare was of course his brother and my sister’s toxic relationship.

I kicked a stone with my foot, feeling thoroughly ignored.

“I heard your shithead of a brother is due back. Did they kick him out for being a crap soldier?”

“It hasn’t got anything to do with you, you little bitch,” Mason snarled giving me his attention again. He was very protective of all his brothers.

“It has if he tries to see Jenna.”

“Here we go again, Jenna, Jenna, fucking Jenna. You and your parents seem to think the world revolves around the girl, it doesn’t,” Mason sighed. Now apparently tired of the conversation.

“So, you’re saying he won’t try and see her?”

Mason dashed a hand across his jaw before arrogantly stating. “So, what if he does? A man has rights where his wife is concerned and it would be unwise of you to try and get in the way of that. You don’t want to be on Nixon’s shit list, believe me. It’s longer than mine.”

“I imagine I’m already on there at the very top.”

“I mean it Amy; you don’t want to see what he looks like when he really loses it.”

“Oh, I’ve seen him lose it. I was there during the whole fist-through-the-wall incident, remember?” I pointed out.

Mason’s shoulders slumped. “Can’t you just piss off already? I’m working in case you haven’t noticed,” he replied as he motioned towards the car.

“I really wouldn’t bother with that rusty piece of crap. Why don’t you just buy another one rich boy?” I suggested with a syrupy smile. The McKenna family were landowners and were minted. Not as much as my family though .

He dashed a hand through his thick hair. All the McKenna boys were hairy and hardly ever clean-shaven. Masculine and rugged with an off-the-chart ‘stay the fuck out of my way’ vibe. They walked into a room as if they expected a round of applause.

Pinning me with a dark look he drawled, “We don’t waste money, Amy. Not like the Taylor-Joys of this world, who probably buy new silverware when they run out of clean ones. Ever heard of a dishwasher?”

“Yes, why? Are you after a job?”

He scowled, “Fuck off Amy before I do something your daddy should have done to you years ago,” he menaced, taking a predatory step my way. From his dark expression, I knew he meant it, he had threatened me that way before, but I’d been a child then. The sudden image of being dragged across his strong thighs shot into my head and gave me goosebumps. I went all hot and cold at the same time. What the fuck was going on with my physical response to this man? Maybe I was dehydrated and losing my mind.

Mason cracked his knuckles and took another menacing step forward. Being a Taylor-Joy, I was all about self-preservation and I seized that as my prompt to leave.

“This isn’t over,” I stated flatly. Disappointment that I’d failed in my task festered inside me.

Mason’s hands were fisted by his sides as he stared back at me with a guarded look, “It never even started.” He said the words almost to himself, but I heard them clearly.

What the fuck did that mean?

I still hadn’t deciphered his fucking code by the time I got back home.

Fuck Mason McKenna. In fact, fuck all the McKenna boys of this world! They were all beautiful on the outside, but demons on the inside.

And as far as I was concerned, they could all kiss my denim-encased backside!