Chapter Eighteen

L ivia tucked her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The view from the deck of the Graceys' house took her breath away.

In the fading light of the setting sun, the green fields seemed to glimmer in the heat of the day. The cows grazing peacefully were oblivious to all the danger surrounding them.

On the Gracey. In Badlands.

She'd brought the threat down on herself when she took that shot at the man about to steal Ivy's truck. Because of her, Carver had suffered.

How could she ever set things right? It seemed easier to come up with the money her father owed the loan shark than figure out how to go on with her bodyguard.

The determination burning on his rugged features told her that he wasn't going to walk away. And she'd already seen the fight in the man.

A light rapping sound made her turn her head. Ivy stood in the doorway, concern pinching her pretty face.

"Do you want some company?"

She released her hold on her knees. "Yes, please."

Ivy silently crossed the deck on bare feet like the country girl she always would be. She sank down on the edge next to Livia and stared out at the land she would someday inherit.

"I love this time of day." She let out a low sigh.

"It's beautiful."

"You okay?"

She nodded.

"Are you and Carver okay?"

She bit down on her lip. That question was far more complicated. She considered the answer.

The make-up sex had been fantastic, romantic, filled with passion…but all wrong, because Livia had already made up her mind to walk away from the man before he ever returned from his ordeal.

"Uh-oh. Do you want to talk about it?" Ivy dipped her head to catch Livia's gaze.

She hugged her knees again. "You've been such a good friend to me through all of this. But…I'm not ready to talk about it."

She nodded. "I understand. And it's okay. Just know that I'm here for you."

"Are the men still in the dining room talking?"

"Yes. They've been at it for hours, hashing out everything that happened."

She had to find a way to start protecting herself. She'd bring back Big Dan and hire a second bouncer. Get more locks on the doors, set more rules put in place for her employees when it came to coming and going to ensure that an exit was never left unlocked for some unwanted person to enter through.

The breeze freshened, bringing the scent of the mountains—pine and sap. She swore she could smell the blue of the sky too.

But maybe all of the scents flooding her brain really belonged to her lover.

A deep jolt of want in her core reminded her of just how bad she wanted him. Bad enough not to wait for him to locate a condom before she let him fill her with his cock.

"You guys look thirsty." The female voice made her and Ivy turn to see Meadow crossing the deck, carrying a small tray of cocktails.

Meadow took in her sister and Livia, her face reflecting the solemn moment between them.

Meadow leaned over, extending the tray to them. Ivy took her glass first, and Livia did the same. She wasn't in the mood for happy hour, but she loved Meadow for her effort and took a sip.

It was mixed well and just strong enough to make her relax a little bit.

She took another sip, the bitter alcohol mingling with fruit juice and tangy lime doing little to ease the ache in her heart at what she knew must come next.

She had to break things off with Carver.

It took her an entire night of believing he was dead to come to terms with it, but she knew it was the right move. She'd lost too many people in her life already. Her mother taking off had hurt. Her father's death left a small hole of grief. Her sister running off with her boyfriend had left her lonely and a little bit lost.

But if something happened to Carver…she didn't know if she could recover from it.

She cared about him.

All right—she loved him, if she was honest with herself. But she'd never tell him how she truly felt.

Memories of their shared moments rolled through her head like scenes of a movie. The times they'd argued. Carver waking up covered in hair from her cat who slept on his chest all night.

And their bodies entangled just hours ago in the bunkhouse.

A shiver coursed through her. The dark look in his eyes worried her more than anything.

No way was he going to let her walk away without a fight. She'd seen him with his men. He was steadfast. Loyal. Somehow, he'd shifted those feelings on to her.

And oh god, she wanted to hold on tight and never let go of them.

Her future seemed more uncertain than ever. What happens when she can't find the money to pay off Smythe? He'd keep coming after her.

She was glad to have evaded his notice all his time, but now she'd ticked him off. He wanted his fees for shooting his man and "looking at him funny."

Now Smythe must be on the run, and he'd be really unhappy about that.

She had to admit that she'd been caught up in the idea of being in love with Carver. Too caught up to see there were weeds forming between the cracks.

Truth was, she wasn't that girl. She didn't do relationships.

Carver had given everything up for his country, including his peace of mind. She heard him waking from nightmares those nights he slept on her couch. She couldn't give him the peace he deserved.

She sipped her drink, half an ear on Meadow and Ivy talking quietly about their father. Livia hadn't said a word about what she shared in the truck on the way to the Gracey Ranch with their father. But maybe she should try to explain to her friends, to kickstart the healing between them.

"Dad says he's feeling stronger today. Has more energy." Ivy took a sip of her cocktail.

Meadow nodded. "He does seem less tired. But there's something else in him. Do you think he's hiding more stuff from us?"

"I'm sure he is. He never would have admitted that he owed so much to a loan shark."

Livia set her drink on the deck and looked at her friends. "He's remorseful, you know."

They blinked at her.

"He really carries a lot of guilt over all of this," she went on. "We talked in the car when he picked me up."

Meadow pressed shaky fingertips to her lips. "I knew he hadn't really changed so much from the father we knew. He just made bad decisions."

Livia reached out and settled one hand on Ivy's and then reached for Meadow's. They each squeezed her hand in return.

After a moment of warmth, they all picked up their glasses again.

Livia sank back into her dark thoughts of Carver. Whatever happened, she had to be honest with herself and Carver. He'd call it running from her fears. She called it facing them.

She couldn't live through losing another person close to her.

And she already had practice being alone.

* * * * *

Carver's chest burned with irritation. He hadn't sat down at the dining room table because the thought of sitting after being chained to that pole made him want to break shit.

As the guys talked, forming a plan of action—and attack—against Smythe and the bastards he paid to come after all of the people associated with the Graceys, Carver paced the length of one wall.

No one stopped him. They all knew better than to treat him like some rambunctious kid and ask him to sit.

He reached the tall window again. It was covered in a filmy sheer curtain that allowed him to see just how low the sun was sinking in the sky.

It had been too many hours since Livia had left the bed in the bunkhouse. Hours since he'd seen or spoken to her.

Folding his arms, he shot a sideways look at Colton seated at the head of the long dining room table.

His man tipped his chin up in recognition. "You want to add something to the plan?"

"No. I want to get the hell out of this room and back to my woman."

Hunter's lips twisted, and he looked down at the table to keep the others from seeing it. Ledger appeared mildly amused.

Colton just cocked a brow.

"Look, I know this is important—the life-or-death kind of important. But we've all had enough plotting against the enemy for one session. What else can be said that will make or break us?"

Colton scrubbed a hand over his face. "You're right. I guess I got carried away."

Hunter pushed his chair away from the table. "We should light up a bonfire and relax for a few before first watch."

They all looked at Ledger. In the military, the rookie usually got the less intriguing jobs. In this case, fire watch, or night watch. Lucky for Carver, he missed out on that when he was placed on bodyguard duty.

Ledger shrugged. "I don't mind watch."

Carver and Colton exchanged a look. Plenty of times before that horrible day they lost so many, Ledger had set himself apart. Carver suspected he carried enough PTSD to crave solitude. While it wasn't exactly good for him, Carver understood it.

He tipped his head toward the door. "We're all going to the fire first. There's time enough to wait for ghosts."

The statement brought silence over the group. Too many ghosts walked over all of their graves. How many more bodies would they drop before this was over?

He strode to the door and opened it. The Graceys' house rang with a lonely quiet like they'd just returned from a funeral. He wondered how often the house felt like this, if it had been this way since their mother died or later after Forest died.

After a quick circle of the rooms, he located all three women seated on the deck, empty cocktail glasses beside them.

Shadows extended along the floor behind each of them, but he fixed his gaze on the one in the center. The woman who cast that shadow had a grip on his heart that would never let go.

An uneasy feeling rippled through him.

"Hey, ladies." His voice sounded gruff.

They turned to look at him. He knew he was in shadow too, but felt Livia's gaze on him.

"We're headed to the bonfire. May I escort you?"

All three gained their feet and crossed the deck to meet him. He looked down to see that not a single one wore shoes or socks.

The sight made him smile. Which felt odd after what he'd just experienced.

"I'll wait out front while you get some shoes on."

When the ladies came outside, he stepped up to Livia and clasped her hand. She let him take it—but he felt tension running through her like a low vibration. At one point, she twitched as if about to pull away, but she didn't.

Once they rounded the barn, the crackle of burning wood and the strains of Zach Webb's guitar greeted them.

An image rose in Carver's head of the last time he and Livia sat around this fire with their friends. Neither of them had been able to wait until they could be alone together. They'd barely made it to Livia's house before they were going at each other.

Now he felt a change in her.

Meadow said something to her, and she smiled, though it appeared forced. Too wide to be natural. The distant look in her eyes was eating at him.

He took a seat on the long split log positioned in front of the fire where couples usually sat together. But as soon as he sank to it, Livia circled the fire and sat far away from him.

His chest welled, caught in the tight grip of fear.

And anger too.

He had done everything in his power to escape his enemy. He'd fought to free himself. Bled for his trouble. Had broken into a cabin to find a phone to call her. And she wasn't even going to sit beside him?

His gaze met hers for a single heartbeat before she shifted hers away, acting as though the flames held answers to whatever internal war she waged.

With his lungs burning for air, he stared at her until the brightness of the flames imprinted on his eyeballs, and all he could see were orange blotches. But he knew Livia was avoiding his gaze.

He had to put himself in her shoes. He knew how her mind worked.

She was stubborn to a fault. He thought she'd worked through that with him, but he was apparently wrong.

If he had to guess, Livia was attempting to push him away out of some misled sense of self-preservation. It was no stretch of the mind to think that she felt a deep terror at realizing he was missing. Since she'd lost pretty much anyone who was important to her, shoving him away was her way of shielding her heart from more potential pain.

Fuck if he'd let her get away with that. He'd throw her over his shoulder and spank her round ass if she even tried it.

He got up. A couple of the guys cast him looks as he circled the fire and stopped in front of her.

She fixed her gaze on his chest.

Without a word, he held out his hand. Waited for her to take it.

C'mon, darlin'. Just reach out and grab my hand. Show me that I'm not wrong about the love I see in your beautiful eyes.

She sat there, fingers tangled in her lap.

A long beat of silence passed. Even Webb noticed and faltered on the strings.

Chest bursting with annoyance, Carver dropped his hand to his side.

Fine. Let her be a stubborn ass. He'd given his all to her. He'd been willing to entertain the idea of a new life—a life much different from any he'd ever imagined.

"I see where I stand." His words came out harsh, a little too loud.

Everyone stilled.

"You want to sit there and pretend I mean nothing to you, do that. Just stay in your narrow lane, Livia. Not really living, just existing. Get up and go to your bar. Clean up, unpack orders. Serve drinks all night. Make the rum that you never wanted to make in the first place and then go home alone to your bed and your cat!"

She winced. Her face paled in the orange glow of the fire.

He waited another minute for a response. When none came, he raked his fingers through his hair and took off walking.

He couldn't get away fast enough. He wouldn't stick around hoping that Livia would drop her walls with him and let him be the man she needed in her life. He couldn't—

Brain grinding to a halt, he rounded the barn and saw it.

Red flames licking from the roof of the bunkhouse.