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“Maybe. I don’t have the hands. We need to pack it and that takes longer than you would expect.” I watched as he took his shot.
“Nice break,” I murmured as he sunk one of the balls.
“We might be able to spare a few hands. I don’t trust all the men, but one or two would be safe enough.” I said and he nodded.
The men at the bar stopped talking as someone entered and I turned to see Anya walk in, eyes wide and cheeks red as she veered straight towards the bar.
“Is that who I think it is?” Benny asked and I nodded, watching as the bartender poured her a scotch straight up.
“Didn’t you and her have some kind of love-hate thing going on?” Benny teased and I winced, taking my shot.
“I guess.” I glanced at her, watching as she hung her head, shoulders hunched. Something was wrong.
“She don’t look too happy,” Benny added and I handed him my cue.
“Raincheck on the game. I’ll call you tomorrow with who we send.” I walked away, not waiting for him to reply.
The bartender Mick, glanced at me with concern as he looked at Anya and the tightness in his stare had me sitting next to her before I could ask if she wanted company.
“I’m not interested.” She mumbled, not looking up from where she held her head in her hands, staring at the glass.
“I wasn’t asking,” I said and her head shot up at the sound of my voice. She turned to look at me slowly, her eyes wide with unshed tears.
“Beau.” She whispered and that was when I noticed it.
The cut on her lip. It hadn’t been there earlier when she fell off the horse. One cheek looked redder than the other. Someone slapped her hard.
“Anya.” I started and she turned away. I reached out to grab her face before she could, running my thumb over her bottom lip.
“Who did this to you?” I said softly and she avoided my gaze.
“No one. It’s nothing.” She said as she pulled away from me. I clenched my fists as she spun around, facing the room.
I glanced at Mick who had a hard look and I understood why. His Mrs. had suffered at the hand of an ex. He might not know Anya, but I was sure as hell that he was ready to shake her for answers like I was.
I stood, shoving my stool back against the bar, and walked in front of her, forcing her to look at me.
Placing my hands on either side of her, I leaned in, getting so close I could feel her breath on my lips.
“Anya Hart. You tell me right now who did this to you, or I am going back to the ranch to beat it out of every single man until one of them confesses.” I snarled and she swallowed nervously.
“Why do you care, Beau? You gave me nothing but hell before I left, and I see the way you judge me now.” She spat and I closed my eyes, calming myself.
She wasn’t wrong and right now; I was kicking myself for the years of shit I had given her.
“I care Anya, because no one raises a hand to a woman on Hart Ranch. Now tell me, who did it?” I said and she sighed.
“Damien and I had an argument.” She whispered and I turned for the door.
That asshole was gone. I had been looking for any excuse to get him out of Anya’s life and now I had it.
“Beau, wait. It isn’t any of your business okay.” She said as she grabbed my arm and I snarled, frustrated that she would think that and angry at the fact that she was with such a dropkick who was only with her to manipulate her and the business.
I turned to her, getting in her face.
“It is my business, Anya. I made a promise to your father that I would look after you and that ranch. Damien hurt one of them already and he has every intention of hurting the other.” I snapped and her eyes widened as she gripped my shirt.
“I’m fine. I told him to leave. I still don’t get it. The ranch, maybe, but me? You hate me.” She said and I stared at her hand fisted in my shirt before looking into her eyes.
