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“Do you know who I am?” she hissed, taking a step into the office. Wes shifted his position so he angled between us. She looked him up and down, scoffing. “I’m Vera Gold—”
“I don’t give a shit,” I cut her off, glaring down at her. “Get out of my bar, now.”
“I’m not going anywhere without my daughter!”
“She’s not going with you.”
Vera sucked in a breath, her lip curling over her too-white teeth. “Who do you think you are to stop me? I’ve gone through hell and back to find her. Find her in this garbage town. What the hell are you thinking, Sierra?” she shouted, malice lacing every word.
“Don’t speak to her,” I said, my voice dropping and taking on a calm I barely had the will to portray.
“She’s my—”
“She’s my fiancée. And you’re upsetting her greatly. I will say this one more time,” I growled, taking a step toward her. She took a step back, her face tightening more than I thought possible. “Get out of my bar. Get out of my town. If I see you again, there’s going to be trouble.”
“She has a fiancé and it’s not you—”
“Jonah Lawley?” I smirked, rolling my eyes. “Tell him I said hello.”
“You bastard!”
“Get out,” I hissed in near whisper.
Vera went rigid, eyes flaming with molten rage.
“Sierra,” she growled, snapping her fingers like Sierra was nothing more than a trained dog. “Come. Right now.”
“Just go,” Sierra said, her voice breaking over the words.
“You’re coming home—”
“This is her home.” I took another step toward Vera, planting my feet only a foot in front of her. She shrunk at the proximity, more than able to feel the rage burning like a fever off my body. “And I am her man. If you ever set foot in this town, I’ll make sure you regret it. The same goes for Jonah…” I lingered on his name, giving her a devilish grin. “No one messes with my woman. Get out.”
Vera swallowed, the column of her throat bobbing as she tried to steal a peek at Sierra, but I was blocking her view.
“This isn’t over,” she hissed through her teeth. “This isn’t over for you, Sierra. I raised you better than this. You owe this to your family—”
“Getout!” I roared.
She didn’t move. She stepped toward me, in fact, pointing a finger at my chest. She opened to mouth to speak, but Grant pushed into the room, followed by George.
Both of them were soaking wet and had frantic looks in their eyes as they took in the scene. George stepped to one side of me, while Grant took the other, all three of us facing down Sierra’s mother and sheltering Sierra from view.
Vera arched her manicured brows, her mouth opening. A shrill laugh escaped her thin neck and echoed around the room.
“Four men, Sierra?” she barked on a laugh.
Wes narrowed is eyes on the woman as a blanket of electric tension settled over us, begging us to let it snap.
“Jonah won’t want you back after this. Used up,” she spat. “That’s what you are now. Are you happy? Do you feel fulfilled? You’ll come home to nothing but shame—shame you brought upon yourself, and your family—”
“If you say another word to her—” I began, but it was Grant who cut me off.
“We don’t speak to women like that in our town.”
“And we don’t force them into marriages, either,” George added, crossing his burly arms over his chest.
“You’re all trash,” Vera countered, looking each of us in the eye. “All of you. You too, Sierra. This isn’t over,” she repeated, then turned on her heel and stormed out. Wes followed her, and Grant reached out and slammed the door shut.
