AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Before I can think of anything to say, there’s a dull roar, and two big Ram trucks, both silver with the black Brocker decal of a running stallion on the middle of the doors, pull up. Owen steps down from his fleet vehicle, and his younger but physically enormous brother Wesley jumps out of the other truck.
"Is my dream team still standing?" Owen makes a beeline for us while Wesley nods in our direction but goes to inspect the broken front door.
Mack, standing strong like a mountain, nods. "It'll take more than a truck fire and a rock through the window to rattle me."
Owen grins and claps him on the back. "I didn't think it would."
"You need cameras for the development, and this house's security system also needs to be upgraded to ensure the well-being and safety of our MVP." Mack's eyes drop to mine. "We have to keep Miss Sheridan safe."
"Agreed. Let's get started with a perimeter check and discuss cameras. Wesley's already on the security for the cottage. You can do a walkthrough with him once we return. Don't worry, I swear he was a medieval war lord in his last life. I wouldn't be surprised if we return and he has an alligator-filled moat dug."
Mack reaches out and pulls a small petal from one of the flowering trees from my hair. "And you, miss, should go home and get some sleep. It's been a long night."
I shake my head. "What about you?"
He smiles, and his eyes shine into mine. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Go home, rest, and enjoy your weekend. You deserve it."
"Will I see you again?" Oh crap, I sounded a little bit like a lovestruck twelve-year-old who doesn't want to leave the side of her crush.
Mack and Owen look at one another, and Mack finally shakes his head. "Yeah, Brooke. I'll be around for a while. I will find the sons of bitches who did this and teach them some manners." He runs a hand through his hair. "Plus, I can't leave now without knowing if you're safe or not. Say you'll have dinner with me this week."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Owen's brows raise. He smiles but doesn't say anything.
I tuck some flyaways behind my ear and clear my throat. "Of course. We can discuss security measures."
Owen grins, bouncing his eyes back and forth between us, then tosses Mack his keys. "I heard you need a new truck. Here are the keys to your first silver Ram."
Mack looks touched by the offer. "Sir, thank you. It's not necessary, though. I can pick up another vehicle in a few days."
Owen shrugs. "Take the Ram for a ride. You're going to need it for the job, and for some important dinner dates."
BROOKE
Kenny kicks a rock across the last lot under excavation.
We've been touring Golden Meadow for hours. I struggle not to constantly check my watch. Unfortunately, he changed our late Monday morning appointment for an early afternoon. So now there's no possible way to beg off for lunch, claiming that I have another meeting.
"So you're telling me this community is broken down into ten-acre lots, each for a half-million dollars?"
I nod. "Currently, yes."
He gives a long, low whistle as though it's the first time he's heard the price. We've already been over the price sheet, the map, and the projected plans for phase two of the development. Kenny Brown knows every step of Golden Meadow’s grand plan but has yet to put an offer in on any lot.
He scratches the back of his head. "Do you think the string of recent incidents is impacting your sales? Because I haven't seen one sale reported for this community. I know you don't like to talk about it or admit it, but the local cops hang out at my tavern."
Mention of the local police reminds me of Friday night, how Mack expertly dealt with their tedious rounds of questions.
"Everyone in Frost Forest knows there was another strike at Golden Meadow on the night of Brocker's big, fancy party. Quite a few people believe what's happening out here is, in part, to protect the good people of Frost Forest. The original people, not the hoity-toities you want as buyers."
I take a deep breath, trying to reserve what little patience I have left for this annoying slumlord, now turned pretend community preserver. "Kenny, it's almost four o'clock. If there's a specific property that you would like more information about, I would gladly draw that up for you, but as far as your other questions, I really can't say. You'd have to ask Mr. Brocker."
Kenny serves me a shit-eating grin with his tiny, annoying mouth. "Not at liberty to say, huh? Well that doesn't surprise me. This whole project has been done under the cover of secrecy. From Brocker's land grab from one of the three Weller boys to the rushed community plans that miraculously zipped through the borough council before anyone had the chance to protest."
Why is this guy such an asshole? Is this how he has become a millionaire over the years? By using fear-mongering techniques for each and every deal until he doesn't have to pay full price?
I center myself. There's no benefit to being out here with Kenny Brown, especially when I could be calling the out-of-towners who are interested in an equine community. "Kenny, how many horses do you own again? And, where do you currently stable them? I was unaware that you were even looking into an equine community."
He pulls at the waistband of his pants. "That's the thing. I was looking into buying a few horses as an investment."
