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“Looks like you took the edge off last night.” He leans a hip on the workbench, studying me. “It’s not enough. At some point, you’ll need to release all that hunger into something other than your fist.”
“How about I release my fists into your face?”
“That would be an improvement over the past five weeks. You’ve been avoiding me since she arrived. I know you’re angry, and I’ve let you have your space. But that ends now.”
“Angry doesn’t begin to cover it.” My hand clenches around a wrench, and I set it down before I do something I can’t take back.
“This is about the vodka.”
“Yeah.” I shift toward him and fold my arms across my chest. “Let’s talk about the vodka. How’d that go, Denver? Did you take my samples to the distributor like you promised? Or did you get distracted by your dick again?”
“Watch your tone, Son.”
“No. I fucking won’t.” I flatten a hand on the table, leaning in, the darkness in my voice matching his. “This will end the same as all the times before.”
“I’ll take the vodka samples when I leave in a couple of weeks. I couldn’t on the last trip. The schedule was too tight.” He sighs. “Frankie is different. She already survived a month and—”
“Barely. She lost the baby and spent three weeks in bed. She won’t last the winter.”
“She will, because you won’t let anything happen to her.”
I scoff and turn away.
“You want her.” He paces through the cellar, lifting glass vials and setting them down. “When you think no one is paying attention, you follow her, watch her, fantasize about all the ways you can make her cry. That hard-on you keep tucked in your waistband? You can choke it every night and convince yourself you’re not thinking of her. But your infatuation will only grow stronger, darker, until it’s bigger than you.”
“You have a twisted imagination, old man.”
“The eyes are afraid, but the body is still doing it.”
“My body does what I tell it to do. You know that.”
“Not this time. When she steps outside, you’ll be on her. I won’t even have to ask. You’ll do it instinctively.” His gaze captures mine. “You’re a natural-born hunter. Embrace it. Let her see you.” He pauses at the door, his voice uncharacteristically emotional. “You know what I want, and this is the one. She’ll make it worth your while.” He trails off, letting the pause last uncomfortable seconds too long. “She’s the one I’ve been waiting for.”
The door shuts, sounding his departure.
I don’t move, every muscle locks up, springing to explode.
The stairs creak with his steps. At the top, the second door opens and closes.
I hiss a raging, vicious breath.
She’s the one he’s been waiting for?
Who is this fucking woman?
She needs to die.
But I can’t. If I kill her now, I would be choosing sides and involving myself.
I refuse to participate.
Christ, this hold he has on us.
He wants to reduce us to mindless, soulless beasts, to go back to the way things were. Back to the darkness where nothing exists but hunting and bleeding and fucking and screaming.
The screams…
My arm flies across the workbench, crashing into bowls and aluminum containers, sending everything to the floor. Months of work, ingredients I perfected, handwritten pages of formulas and notes—all splattered across the room and covered in mash.
This is your doing, Frankie. You walk around shaking your perfect ass, knowing every head in Hoss follows you. Keep it up, and you’ll learn just how primitive we are. There are no limits to the violent cravings of a monster. Won’t be long before every dick is fighting to be inside you. All the dicks. All at once. And that’s just the beginning.
If we fuck her, it will seal the deal. What would follow is unspeakable. Exactly what he wants. All he’s ever wanted.
Ever the strategic, calculating genius, he laid the trap. He brought her here to lure us into a visceral hell of his making, to pin me against my brothers even as we fight to protect one another, all the while navigating land mines filled with secrets and bargains and a flimsy truce.
With the slightest pressure, we’ll crumble and become the things he created, no longer human.
Who will weaken first?
Wolfson.
No, he knows better. He’s the smartest of us all. He’s also the most damaged, the most unbalanced, and by far, the most manipulative. There’s no telling what he’ll do.
I leave the destruction in my distillery to clean up later and take the steps two at a time to the main floor.
At the top of the stairs, I listen for Wolf’s unrestrained voice.
The cabin is quiet. Too quiet.
Stepping outside, I stand at the railing and scan the buildings.
More silence.
I walk the perimeter until I detect a whiff of cigarette smoke. Following it, I find Wolf in the greenhouse.
