Chapter Fourteen
Seth’s boots crunched against the gravel as he jumped off Skip and ran toward Turner and Annabelle, anger bubbling up so fast that steam could have flown from his ears. The scum was yelling at his wife… and she was defending herself with a gun.
Where did she get a gun?
Seth’s legs pounded forward as fast as his heart. “Get back!” he bellowed, his voice a whip, striking Turner as he rushed forward. He pushed between Annabelle and Turner and grabbed the man by the arm, thrusting him backward with violent force.
Off-balance, Turner stumbled aside. Seth risked a glance back at Annabelle. She was standing firm, her jaw set, her body rigid. She was standing her ground, and he was proud of her—but where did she get that gun?
He wheeled back on Turner. “Stay away from her!” he hissed through clenched teeth, his grip so tight on the man’s arm that he believed he could break it if he wanted to. He spun Turner around to face him, but Turner staggered back.
Clearly, he wasn’t shaken enough. He still had the audacity to jerk his arm out of Seth’s grip.
“You gonna protect your little wife?” His voice dripped with mockery, but there was something else in it—a coldness, something darker than Seth had heard before.
“Can’t she’s very fortunate. Don’t she know how well that went with your fiancée? ”
Seth’s blood ran cold.
There was a cocky smirk on Turner’s face that Seth wanted to remove with a bullet. He wanted nothing more than to grab the handle of his gun and get to work, but he stopped himself.
He had to. He didn’t want blood in the street, especially not in front of Annabelle. No matter how much Turner’s taunting infuriated him.
“What are you even talking about?” he snarled at Turner. “You get some kind of twisted pleasure out of terrorizing women?”
Turner’s smirk widened. “Just know that there are things you don’t know about your precious little wife. Maybe you should ask around. You know, get the full picture.”
Seth’s hand twitched at his side. He was about to lose the battle to grab his gun. Turner was counting his seconds. Anger was bubbling up inside him, threatening to spill over as rage scorched every inch of his being. “What’s your angle?” he hissed.
Turner took a step back, apparently enjoying the scene. “Let’s just say I’ve got some information about that woman you married,” he laughed. “Information that makes me wonder if you really know the woman you married.”
That was it. Seth had heard enough. He clenched his fist and swung with all the pent-up fury he'd been holding back for months. The punch landed with a crack squarely on Turner’s jaw. He went sprawling to the ground, blood spurting from his nose, smearing Seth’s knuckles.
He felt a sharp sting, a sign that he’d damaged his own hand, but he didn’t care.
He turned and stalked away, his anger burning hotter than any pain in his hand ever could.
“Let’s go,” he growled, his voice hard as steel as he grabbed Annabelle by the arm.
He just wanted to go. He shouldn’t have even gone into town.
He should have just kept riding with her.
That would have been fine enough. Doggonit, why did he need feed?
“He was hurting Hazel,” Annabelle stammered out.
Seth growled. He was so tired of Hazel; of hearing about her. He had never wanted his past to keep biting him in the rear like that. He didn’t love her anymore, yet he was still so angry at her for getting involved with a snake like Turner in the first place.
All he wanted was to talk things over with Annabelle, but every time he seemed to be getting somewhere, something else threw another wedge between them.
His grip tightened around Annabelle’s arm. “Get on your horse,” he hissed.
“What was that?” she asked, clearly frustrated. “What was Turner talking about?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seth snapped, his temper flaring even more. “We just need to get home.”
He grabbed Annabelle by the arm again, but this time, there was something sharper in his touch. “Get on the horse.” His voice was low, hoarse, and shaken. Where had she gotten a gun? What was she doing confronting a man like that?
Annabelle huffed. “Do you think you can just tell me what to do because I’m your wife?” she demanded.
He didn’t want to hear it. “I said, get on the horse,” he warned for the last time. His expression seemed to tell Annabelle that he meant business. She sighed and nodded, returning to Suzanna, and mounted.
But Seth wasn’t quiet done. He pulled himself up on Skip and drew up beside her, looking her square in the eye. “And another thing,” he said sternly. “You’re never to speak to that man again.”
Annabelle flinched, her hands wrapping tightly around the reins. “I can protect myself. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”
Her defiance made Seth’s jaw tighten. A lot of what she did made his jaw tighten. “I don’t care what you think you’ve done or can do,” he snapped. “You’re my wife now. I’m the one who protects you.”
Her lips parted, fury clearly rising up, so much that it sparked in her eyes. Her mouth went tight, and her face reddened. .
Seth could see the storm coming, but he wasn’t about to let her start. “Hiyaa!” he thundered, snapping Skip’s reins. “Come on!”
The two horses cantered back to the ranch, Seth’s thoughts churning harshly the entire time. Turner’s words were repeating themselves in his head, each time digging deeper.
What did he mean about Annabelle? Was there really something about her that Seth didn’t know? The thoughts gnawed at him incessantly. What in the world was he talking about?