Nate’s blood was boiling, bubbling just under his calm surface. Zane knew just where to thrust that knife in. All of Nate’s life he’d been groomed to take over his family’s business. He’d rebelled when he joined the DEA, but the ambition that was bred into him never went away. Now that the family business and money were all gone due to bad investments, a crooked accountant, and the condition of the economy, it was up to Nate to get his position back. It didn’t matter that Callie had grown up here. Everyone had to leave the nest eventually.
It was a home with no future. He couldn’t move up here. He couldn’t get back what he’d lost in Bliss, Colorado. The most he could hope for here was another term as sheriff. No matter how nice the people were, Bliss was a dead-end town. “You won’t have to worry about us, man. You’ll have done your duty and sacrificed yourself. You’ve been trying to commit suicide for years. Well, I won’t stop you anymore.”
He would. Nate would lock his ass up if he had to, but he wanted to play this out to the end.
Zane was the very picture of half-contained rage. His muscles bunched and corded, his eyes flared. “I didn’t have to commit suicide, asshole. I just had to follow you. You think I wanted to join the fucking DEA? I went to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed.”
The words rolled out of Nate’s mouth before he could think to take them back. “Well, you could have saved yourself the trouble. I wasn’t the one who fucked up and blew my cover.”
When the punch came, it caught him across the face, and Nate’s head snapped back with an audible crack. His eyes closed against the blinding pain of every nerve in his face firing off. He reached his hand up to wipe the blood away. Zane stared at him as though he wanted to apologize but couldn’t force the words out of his stubborn mouth. It didn’t matter. Nate wouldn’t have accepted an apology. Nate launched himself across the desk with no thought other than beating some sense into his oldest friend in the world.
The lamp on his desk fell to the floor with a crash. Zane shouted something, but Nate’s focus had narrowed. He pulled back his arm and brought it down with every bit of force he could muster.
Zane fell back with a groan as Nate’s fist met with his face. Zane was bigger, but Nate had always compensated by being more vicious. He didn’t pull his punches, and he didn’t pause to breathe. Zane was his punching bag, and he took all of his pent-up anger out on his big body. He got in a swift upper-cut to Zane’s chin. He landed a fist on Zane’s eye and noticed there was blood on his hands. His? Zane’s? Didn’t matter. Zane finally managed to kick him off. Nate had the breath knocked out of him as Zane’s knee got him in the stomach. His ribs ached, and his back hit the desk. He lay there for a moment, taking in the extent of his injuries. Then Zane grunted, and Nate knew they weren’t done yet. Before Zane could get the drop on him, he brought up the heel of his boot and kicked him squarely in the nuts. Zane went down with a whimper, falling back into the chair he’d previously occupied.
“You motherfucker.” Zane moaned, cupping himself.
Nate wiped the blood off his nose. He was pretty sure it wasn’t broken. “Yeah, well, I’m not letting you sacrifice your ass to the Barbarians. We’ll find a safe place to hole up and figure out what they want with you.”
“Damn it, they want my head, Nate,” Zane shot back. He shifted in the chair. “If they don’t get mine, they’ll take yours or Callie’s.” He let his head fall back, and his eyes closed. Zane seemed infinitely weary. “I’m tired of all of it. It isn’t worth it, man.”
“You are so selfish. You always have been.” Nate managed to push his body up to a sitting position. He hissed slightly as he twisted. Damn, Zane knew just where to kick a guy. He’d feel that impact for days. “Have you thought at all about how this affects Callie? The last time we left her, she was alone for six years. She’s not some girl you pick up in a bar and leave behind the next morning. She deserves better than that.”
Zane wiped blood from a cut under his right eye. “I never promised her anything.”
“You promised you would take care of her.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.”
Nate’s fists clenched. He was just about ready to start the fight again. The first beating hadn’t gotten through Zane’s thick skull. “You can’t take care of her if you’re dead. Who’s to say that they won’t come after me next? Should I just go lie down and die, too?”
Zane kicked out. His boot caught the edge of the desk, making it shake. “You think I want to die?” His hands shook, but he stopped and took a breath. He sat like that for a moment. “Fuck you, Nate. Maybe what I want is to be free of you. Maybe I want to start living my life without having to measure up to your standards. I am leaving, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
The door slammed open, and Nate’s head swung around. He noticed Zane was looking, too, his face as white as a sheet.
“Callie, baby,” Zane started, but the words fell away.
There were tears shimmering in her eyes as she looked between the two of them. “You two through beating on each other?”
Nate noticed she was holding something in her hand. It dangled at the side, a nest of brightly colored vines flowing through her fingers.
Zane’s face went mulish again. “We’re done. Now, I gotta go. I have something to take care of.”
He pushed himself out of his chair, but Callie didn’t move. Zane stared at his boots.
“Callie, it’s just something we do from time to time,” Nate tried to explain. It was true. At least once a year, he and Zane had it out. It was a guy thing. Callie paid him absolutely no attention.
“Tell me something, Zane,” she began. Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. “Was I going to get another note? At least last time no one knew about it. I didn’t have to deal with the town pitying poor Callie who can’t keep a man to save her life. If you wanted to leave, if it didn’t mean anything, why did you tell one of my oldest friends that I was your woman?”
Zane shrugged. He didn’t look up. Callie might not know it, but it was a sure sign that whatever came out of Zane’s mouth next was a complete lie. “I’m a good-time guy, darlin’. I like to fuck a pretty lady, and last night you were hot as hell. This morning, I want to move on. I don’t mean to hurt you, babe. I’m not the kind of man who settles down.”
“He’s being a self-sacrificing idiot, Callie.” Nate scrambled off the desk and forced his way in between them. He reached for Callie’s free hand. Despite the righteous ache in his bones, he felt the need to defend Zane, even against himself. “Don’t believe a word he says.”
Nate was surprised to discover his heart pounding. He knew why he was trying to save the big idiot’s life, but he was also trying to save the relationship—between the three of them. It was important.
“You stay out of this. It’s between me and Callie.” Zane stared past him at Callie.
Callie turned to Nate. “I’m not stupid, Sheriff. I know he’s lying, but in a way, he’s not. I can’t mean that much to him if he’s willing to walk away without a fight.”
Zane shrugged and gave her a grin that had Nate wincing. There was a wealth of arrogance on Zane’s face. It was his “I’m an asshole” expression. “What can I say? I’m that kind of guy. I’d rather not fight, babe. It’s easier to walk.”
She held up the little nest of wires in her hand. “I’m glad you like to walk. This is a good portion of your motorcycle’s electrical system. I trashed it. I grew up with three brothers. They might not have been blood, but they taught me things all the same. I also punched holes in your tires and took a club to the headlight. You might have heard that if you hadn’t been beating on each other. You want to walk out on me, Zane? You will walk.”