Page 95

A tornado.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Butterfly Creek, Oak Hollow

Luca

“You probably want to kick me. How about you wait until I cut you free?” I calmly hike away from my truck down the dirt track toward the buck.

The buck’s leg is caught in barbed wire, which is looped at the tree line. His ear twitches.

Good. He’s listening.

The weak evening light filters through the canopy of the oaks and elms over the wiry reddish coat of the stag, and his velvet, rounded antlers. His white tail is standing up in alarm.

I am focused on the deer. It centers me.

Angel doesn’t understand how I can enjoy being alone in the forest like this; he told me that he fears loneliness the most.

Except, I’m not alone.

I can hear the calls of the cardinals and doves. Crickets chorus from the grass, while frogs croak from the creek.

I raise my hands, keeping them open with my palms flat.

“Keep looking at me,” I say in a low voice. “You remind me of an Alpha I know. But don’t tell him I said that.”

I smirk, thinking of the photograph that my Angel sent of himself wearing the deer onesie.

Adorable.

Then my smile fades, when I think of Angel being caught in barbed wire.

I frown.

Is this neglected legal fencing? Or has it been put up by poachers?

I pull my straw cowboy hat more firmly over my eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll save you. I won’t abandon you like this.” I unclip the wire clippers from my duty belt, which rides low on my hips. “Hold still.”

I keep my gaze locked on the buck’s tense, muscular shoulders. The moment that they relax, I step into the kicking zone.

This is the dangerous part.

I clip the wire cutters around the rusted metal and snap down.

Then I release and dance backward to the side to the safety of a large, oak trunk.

Instantly, the buck thrashes. His legs collapse, before he scrambles up, taking a couple of stumbling steps.

I slip the wire cutters back onto my belt.

I smooth my tan shirt, polishing the badge that is pinned to it. “Up you get. Don’t think about kicking my ass. I am the good guy. You’re free.”

The stag bolts, bounding straight past me back into the trees with a crash of snapping branches.

I grin. He isn’t injured.