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I stay out of Brax’s way for the rest of the day, entertaining myself by looking around the place.
There’s a huge outbuilding behind the house and curiosity leads me inside it, with Duke close behind. Inside, there are a few different bikes, all covered over with sheets. But what interests me more are all the woodwork tools. I wonder if they belong to Brax, or if they’d been here when he bought the place.
I make my way back to the house and sit on the porch swing, appreciating the breathtaking view. It’s so peaceful here, that I actually manage to block out what’s happened to me over the past few days and allow myself to think about my parents.
Since their accident, I haven’t had any time to myself. Aunt Justine had me so wrapped up in making plans that I didn’t get the chance to grieve them. I wonder what they would think of the situation I’m in now. If they’d want me to trust a man like Brax?
A steady stream of smoke travels up from the valley below us, making me wonder if we’re as isolated out here as I thought we were.
“Hungry?” Brax’s voice comes from behind me. When I turn my head around, I see him resting against the doorframe with a plate in his hands, and I wonder how long he’s been watching me.
“It’s just chicken and rice, I ain't used to guests,” he confesses, scratching the back of his head awkwardly as he hands it over.
“It looks great, thanks,” I smile, taking the plate out of his hands. He leans his shoulder into one of the wooden pillars, lights up a cigarette, and watches me eat. It’s kinda weird, but like I said, I’ve given up trying to work him out.
“What’s down there?” I point my fork in the direction of the smoke.
“The Indians,” he tells me, his tongue rolling inside his cheek while he waits for my reaction, and I give him one, almost choking on my food.
“The what?” I swallow my mouthful and look up at him again.
“The Indians. A Cheyanne tribe lives down in that valley.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope, they’ve lived there for years, at least as long as I’ve been coming here.”
“I thought all those tribes turned civilian years ago.” Sure, I’ve heard of the Cheyanne tribe. I remember learning about them at school. In history…
“Not those folks, they still do it the traditional way. I’d say there’s about thirty of ‘em,” he explains.
“That’s amazing.” Now I’m curious, and I push Brax for more.
“You ever speak to your neighbors?”
“Hell no. Them and Dirty Souls are sworn enemies.” It’s hard to tell from his smug grin if he’s joking or not.
“For real?” I tilt my head, giving him a look that says I don’t fully believe him.
“For real,” he nods back at me.
God, he’s handsome when he smiles.
“Why?”
“Come on, I’ll show ya.” He holds out his hand for mine, and my stomach fizzles when I allow my fingers to slide between his. I leave my plate on the bench and let him guide me off the porch, then through the trees until we come to an opening.
“There,” he says, watching my face as I look down the deep slope into the open space below us. It looks like a tiny village set back in time, with animal pens, tethered horses and small cabins.
“That’s crazy.” I manage to peel my eyes away to look back at him.
“You see that tree line on the hill over on the other side?” he points with the hand that isn’t still gripping on to mine. And I nod back, feeling my body shiver as he positions himself closer behind me. His lips so close to my ear they’re almost touching me.
“That’s the club boundary.” I feel his words against my skin. “Everything on the other side of those trees is Soul’s territory.”
“Wait… The club is that close?” I look over my shoulder at him, both shocked and concerned that we’re so near.
“Yeah, it’s only about a mile and a half on foot to the compound. If you took that short cut. But Cheyenne are touchy about their turf.”
