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I looked up, and Mason was still here, a few feet away, lighting a cigarette. He took a long drag of it, and as the smoke lifted into the air, he said, “Do you honestly think you deserve her?”
Blinking again, I shook my head. Who was he talking about? Cathy? I looked at him, leaning against the wall now. “Do you think that a man liked you deserves something so…enchanting?”
Cold washed over me.
“God fuckin—DENVER! GET A GRIP!” That was a roar. A roar from a man who is usually quiet.
Mags.
My vision was clearing and the smoke I was lost in drifted away. Mags was in front of me, holding me against someone. Arms were encasing me from the front and behind. I shook my head.
“Come on, brother, come back to us. Leave that shit there,” Mags ordered.
I got a good look at him now. His hat was gone, exposing his black hair, wild and damp. His dark eyes were wild with fear. “You here?” he clipped.
I nodded and tried to move, but the arms around me tightened.
“What’s your name?” Mags asked.
“Denver Langston.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-five.”
“What’s today?”
“June tenth.”
“Where are you?”
I swallowed, something nasty pooling in my gut. “Hallow Ranch.”
Mags looked behind me. “Let him go.”
I looked around. We were outside of my home, in the front yard. Mags sighed and bent to pick up his hat. The arms around me were gone, and the twins came into view, looking at me with concern.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“What did I do?” I asked.
“You fucking choked her!”
All heads snapped up the porch. Beau was standing there, fuming, his blue eyes pinned on me.
Choked her?
Choked who—
Valerie.
I was moving then, charging up the porch steps, but my men crowded me. Beau and I were nose to nose, me looking down at him.
“Let me in my house,” I growled.
“Kings—”
