His Brutal Game by Audrey Rush

CHAPTER 23

Maisie

Forrest’s body crashed to the floor. Wilder held me close, his thick, strong arms wrapped around me like a shield. I took a deep breath, willing myself to look at Forrest and Sawyer, but Wilder’s arms were so tight that I couldn’t move. His eyes were bloodshot. His lips swollen. But he was okay. He was alive. And I was too.

But that didn’t mean everyone was okay.

“Bambi,” I whispered.

Wilder glanced at his father, confirming he was dead, then stood, helping me up. I ran to her side, holding her carefully in my lap. Blood crusted her forehead, her eyes closed.

“We need to get her help,” I said. “Now.”

Wilder looked at Sawyer.

“Done,” Sawyer said. He dialed a number on his phone. Then Wilder went to a locked cabinet. He removed a first aid kit and handed it to me. I fumbled it open, peeling through the items, trying to figure out what would be best. The alcohol swab? I found one, then held a bandage to the cut.

Then a thought crossed my mind: this was the Dairy Barn. How often did Wilder need a first aid kit in his executioner’s den?

Bambi’s lips quivered. “Are you okay?” I asked.

She tried raising her brow. “Who the hell—” she winced at the pain, “—did you marry?” A grin twitched across her face and quickly fell. I laughed softly, trying not to move too much. She smiled back at me, her whole face scrunched up. Wilder unlocked the doors to the barn, and a few of the ranchers came toward us.

“Come on,” one of them said. “We have to move you to the main area. Make it seem like an accident.”

“I can’t pay for an ambulance,” Bambi said.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. The million dollars Forrest owed me had to come from somewhere.

They gently carried her, placing her next to the barn. The plan was to make it look like she had been bucked off of a horse, even though they didn’t have any. A minute later, the ambulance arrived. Gingerly, the paramedics took Bambi up to the vehicle. Wilder squeezed my shoulder.

Forrest still laid on his side, his eyes open and blank as blood pooled around his head. He was gone. We wouldn’t have to worry about him.

But that didn’t mean that Sawyer was on our side.

“Shall we?” Sawyer asked, motioning to both of us.

With Sawyer driving, Wilder sat in the back, unable to take his hands off of me. One arm around my shoulder, the other hand on my knee, like he needed to make sure I was close. That I wouldn’t disappear.

I blinked hard, trying to make sure that this wasn’t a dream. The pastures and open roads zipped to the sides of us. This was real. The brothers were working together. Neither of them spoke, but there was an accepted truth between them, an understanding that mattered more than whatever rivalry they had dominated their relationship before.

And best of all, Wilder was holding me, even in front of his brother. And he showed no signs of letting go.

After the doctor confirmed that Bambi had a concussion, but that she was all right, the three of us—Wilder, his brother, and me—stood outside, preferring the parking lot to the waiting room. Wilder held out a hand to Sawyer, and the two of them shook hands. Then Wilder put his arm back around me.

Sawyer nodded to me. “Are we good?” he asked.

My shoulders tensed and Sawyer laughed. Wilder tightened his grip around my back, reading my discomfort.

“You abducted me and my friend,” I said. “What makes you think we’re ‘good’?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I have no problems with you,” he said. “Honestly, I don’t care.”

He sounded so much like his brother, but I still didn’t completely understand him. Did he mean he didn’t care what happened to me? Or that he didn’t care about the marriage?

“Don’t care about what?” I asked.

“I honestly don’t care that my brother loves you.” My cheeks flushed at those words. I stole a glimpse at Wilder, who stared past his brother, processing those words too. “I have no interest in having problems with you. I was just trying to wake Wilder up.”

Wilde nodded his head, instantly understanding where his brother was coming from, a brotherly communication that I would probably never understand.

“You didn’t want to kill me?” I asked hesitantly.

“Trust me. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Wilder stiffened, and I rolled my eyes. They were definitely raised in the same household. I shook my head, still not quite believing him. “But you kept threatening to kill me?”

“I thought Forrest had hired you to turn Wilder against me.” Sawyer lifted his chin. “I wanted the business. Wilder never wanted it. And when I tried to convince Forrest to let us handle the takeover our own way, Forrest said we had to transfer power through the Trial.” He let out a sigh. “He was never going to give it to me unless I killed him.”

A heavy weight filled me. Forrest must have been determined to get rid of any rivals, including whichever son survived the Trial. Sawyer had killed Forrest for his own reasons. Saving me had simply been a side-effect.

But in some ways, that made sense. It was honest. I was not his priority. Taking over the family business was.

Wilder’s eyes held his brother, his fingers wrapped around me, not letting me go.

“The farm is yours,” Wilder said.

“You’ll continue to head the livestock orders?”

“Whatever is needed.”

Wilder’s shoulders sunk down like he was actually relieved for once. It was over. Once we checked on Bambi again, the doctor said they were going to keep her overnight.

“Okay,” I said. “Then I’ll stay too.”

“No,” Wilder said. “You’re coming home. With me.” I tilted my head. He continued: “You need rest, Maisie. You’ve been through a lot too.”

Considering I didn’t have a massive gash in my forehead like Bambi, it was hard to see that.

“I have to make sure my friend is okay,” I said.

“I will carry you out if I have to,” Wilder said.

Sawyer laughed, then patted his brother on the back. “I’ll stay,” he said.

Though it was a nice gesture, I didn’t quite trust him, even if I had faith that Wilder would never let Sawyer hurt my friends or family like that.

“I’ll call my sister,” I said.

“Sister?” Sawyer asked.

“Fiona,” I said. “She’s good at this kind of stuff. Plus, she went to medical school.” Which was technically true.

“I’ll leave her to it.” He lifted his phone. “I’ve got some business to take care of anyway.”

Back at the farm, it took a while before my breathing finally steadied. It was strange being back, knowing that things were different now, but you could feel it in the air. The silent breeze. The murmur between the ranchers. The sunlight beaming down. Forrest was gone, and that lack of presence showed. Still, the two of us stood over Forrest’s corpse. His gray hair was muddied with blood.

“What do you want to do with the body?” Wilder asked.

He was truly asking for my opinion, like I had an actual say. Forrest had been disgusting to me, but worse, he had been awful to his sons, pitting them against each other. And as much as I appreciated the offer to decide the future of his corpse, I didn’t want any say. That was Wilder’s decision.

“Your call,” I said.

Wilder glared down at his father, then picked him up, dropping him into the rolling cattle chutes that Sawyer had used to transport Bambi and I. Rolling the cart, we took the long walk to the pond, stopping at the deepest edge. We tied cinderblocks to his limbs, then Wilder kicked him in, letting his body sink to the bottom.

“He owed you a million?” Wilder asked.

“Don’t know if I kept my end of the bargain anyway,” I said.

“Doesn’t matter.”

We looked at the dark water. How many other people were at the bottom of the pond? Was his mother down there too? Or would Forrest rot alone?

It should have seemed foreboding, but I knew we would never meet that same fate. We were different from Wilder’s parents. And that was a good thing.

“I want to give the money to Bambi,” I said, breaking the silence.

“Then give it to her.”

It was so simple to Wilder. He didn’t care about money. He didn’t care about food. Or cars. Or many things. But he understood murder. Maybe he even understood his brother.

And he understood me.

We were quiet for a while. A cow moaned in the distance. A tractor rattled in the pasture behind us, no one stopping to ask what we were doing. Even with the leader of the Feldman Farms gone, life went on. A new leader took the reins. And the two of us watched the old ruler sink down to the depths.

But one question still needed answers.

“Why did you leave me?” I asked.

I knew why, but I wanted to hear him say it. Wilder focused on the pond, as if he could see the past in those murky depths to his father’s corpse.

“It was the only way I could keep you safe,” he said.

I reached for his hand. His fingers stiffened, but then his fingers laced with mine.

“If you still want a divorce,” I started in a quiet voice. Wilder bared his teeth, waiting for the rest of my sentence. I continued, “Then you’re going to have to fight me for it.”

“Shut up,” he said. He pressed his lips to mine, that deep, menacing kiss, full of unrefined lust. His tongue chaotic, unruly, fighting for dominance when I’d give it all to him in a heartbeat because that’s how we functioned. Because I wanted to give myself to him. I trusted him more than I trusted anyone else.

We broke apart. I stared into his stormy eyes. He was everything I wanted.

“I love you,” I said. A sadness flashed through Wilder’s eyes, his focus fluttering away. My heart dropped. But it wasn’t like him to commit to something like love, especially out loud. And who could blame him? He had never known love before. And he might not have realized that love was what we had now.

His eyes stayed on the ground. “This is who I am, Maisie,” he said calmly. “I was born a killer. It’s who I am. I can’t change that.”

“I wouldn’t want you to.”

Finally, he turned to me, his gray-blue eyes clearer than they had been in a long time, as if he could finally see the future we could have together.

“I can’t promise that I will keep you safe,” he said. I lowered my head, knowing that his words were true. There were no guarantees in our lives, only that we would all meet the same end. Maybe we would find the path on our own, and maybe someone would help us get there faster. Like Wilder. “But I can promise that I will do everything I can to protect you.”

And that was enough. We kissed again, my hands wrapped behind his head, tangled in his hair. My heart swelled, knowing that those were his words, his truth. He loved me in his own way. And this was how he said it.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t work. We were quiet, lying in each other’s arms, processing everything that had happened. And that night, as we laid in bed, right before I fell asleep, Wilder twisted, pulling me into his arms. His breathing shallowed. I closed my eyes, relaxing for the first time in a long, long time. I had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but I looked forward to it. Because tomorrow meant a life with him, someone who saw me. All of my strengths. My mistakes. And still, he wanted me.

“I’ll protect you, Maisie,” Wilder whispered. “I love you.”

I pulled his arms closer, pretending to stir in my sleep, giving him that moment to himself. Maybe one day, he’d say it to my face.

But for now, I’d hold on to this moment, where he whispered it in the dark.