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“Weston,” he echoes, testing out the name on his tongue.
“Yes, Weston Rhodes, and this is my home. Now don’t move,” I instruct softly. “Don’t make a sound. I’ll get rid of them.”
His scared eyes widen and, for a moment, he freezes before quickly bobbing his head up and down. The relief provided by my words hit him, but he doesn’t entirely deflate. I don’t blame him, he doesn’t believe that it’s over yet. But it is, I’ll just have to show him that.
Heading for the front porch, I make a show of stomping there, picking my rifle back up from the dining table as I pass. My mood sours further when I remember these people must have had to open my gate as well.My locks better not be broken.
I scowl immediately, finding four figures standing on my porch. I swing the screen door open so hard that it slams against the side of my house but stays open nonetheless. I stare at the intruders without leaving my doorway, filling the space with my wide shoulders, not allowing even a peek past my body.
“Is there a reason you’re standing on private property without an invitation?”
The only woman of the group paints a sickly sweet smile on her face, attempting to remain unaffected by my cold greeting.
“Hello,” she chirps. “So sorry to intrude, but I’m afraid we’re looking for a missing boy, and we’re certain he’s come through this way. We found his phone about a mile back. We’re quite worried about him, you haven’t seen him, have you?”
“Lady, nobody comes here. Ain’t seen anyone, and that’s the way I prefer it.”
She bristles. “Well, perhaps you’ve seen or heard something…”
I level her with a glare. “The dead buck hanging from my garage right there should let you know that if anything was running through these woods, I would have seen it. I was just out there. Whoever you’re looking for ain’t here.”
“But—”
“And a mile back? Hardly an excuse to bother me.”
“I—”
“Now, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave my property and not to come back. I don’t live in the middle of nowhere because I like having people pop in and bother me. Best you look somewhere else, and before you let yourself past a locked fence again, consider the compromising position that puts you in.”
She opens her mouth again, only to be cut off by one of the men at her side. “He’s not here. Let’s go.”
I don’t know whether he believes it or not, but I really don’t care. Anything to get these people away from me, I don’t like the cold look of ‘em. I wait, standing tall and still as they get into their SUV before getting the hell off of my property.
Attempting to quell my rising anger at the audacity of them, I settle my gun into its cabinet by the door, locking it away for the time being. I have a few more staged throughout the house, and right now I’m quite glad for it. I take no joy in the idea of needing to use them, but I also won’t hesitate if I have to. For the sake of my life and for Beck’s.
Washing the blood from my hands in the warm water of my sink, I release a long breath before returning to find my guest.
CHAPTERTWO
Weston
I’m not a man who’s used to offering comfort. I haven’t lived withanyonein over ten years. I don’t coddle or talk sweetly to make people feel better. I hardly talk to people at all.
But as the runaway continues to cower in the corner outside of my bedroom, I feel a nagging desire to make him feel safe.
“They’re gone,” I inform him, leaning up against the wall, attempting to appear less threatening to the man. Not sure how to do that while beingthismuch bigger than him.
“T-thank y-you,” he shudders, his cries having gone soft.
I look him over as best as I can from this far. “Are you hurt?”
His head shakes. “M’okay.”
“Cold?” I ask though I know he must be. His skin is pale but flushed from the bitter wind.
Reluctantly, he nods, confirming my suspicion.
“Come on,” I say, tipping my head toward my room. “You can take a shower to warm up. Warm water, not hot, or you’ll make yourself sick. I’ll get you some clothes to change into and put something on the stove.”
