cots
they had been sitting on.
When the metal doors at the other end of the cell
area opened, Gunnery Sgt. Ryan Callahan Calvert, of
the Boston, Massachusetts, Calverts, strode in,
followed by two military police personnel and the
lawyer he’d brought from Denver the day before.
Ryan was scowling. His strong, weathered face
was stone hard, his blue eyes like chips of ice, as he
followed the sheriff, Randal Tobias, to the cell Rafe
and his cousins had been confined in.
The fact that Ryan wasn’t happy was only
eclipsed by the fact that Sheriff Tobias was glaring at
the cousins with pure, vicious hatred.
“The little bastards fucking well better keep their
asses in the county.” He shoved the key in each cell
door, twisted it furiously, and slammed the iron doors
open. “Fuck up and I’ll put a bullet in your heads
myself.”
Rafe sneered. “Only if the barons give you
permission,” he drawled, using the mocking nickname
given to the patriarchs of the three families.
In the next second, Tobias buried his fist in
Rafe’s ribs, stealing Rafe’s breath for a second and
shoving him into the metal bars. Fury surged through
Rafe in the next instant, pounding through his veins
and throwing him forward after the sheriff, when
Logan, Crowe, and Ryan suddenly grabbed him.
“Let it go, son,” Ryan snarled in his ear. “You
should have kept your mouth shut or prepared for it.”
He was right. Rafe knew he was right. But still,
Rafe wanted to take the bastard apart with his bare
hands.
The sheriff sneered back at him.
Funny, Rafe thought distantly, the sheriff’s son,
Archer, seemed to have a streak of honor and had
been one of the few people in the county to come
forward and object to the treatment Rafe and his
cousins had suffered in the past few days. That was
one of the reasons Tobias was so furious now.
Having his son defend the three cousins couldn’t have
gone over well with the barons who told Tobias when
to breathe, when to fuck, and when to piss.
Rafe let his lip curl in the sheriff’s direction.
“That’s okay, sir,” Rafe drawled. “You’re right: I should
have been prepared. But I think the sheriff is very well
aware of the price he’s paying for the orders he
follows.”
He’d lost his son. Archer Tobias had stood in his
father’s face the day before and told the other man he
couldn’t believe they were related and that he prayed
stupidity wasn’t hereditary.
“You little fucker,” Tobias snarled. “You’ll be back.
When you do Archer will see you for the murdering
fuck you are.”
Rafe shook his head. “Naw, he’ll see you and the
barons for the manipulative monsters you are. That’s
too bad, too, because I think Archer is tired of
defending your eagerness to jump when they tell you
to jump.”
“Get him out of here, Calvert,” the sheriff ordered.
“Before I save the county the money to prosecute him
and shoot him myself.”
Two military police laid their hands purposely on
the butts of their weapons. The action didn’t go
unnoticed.
“Let’s go,” Ryan ordered. “You all have a meeting
with your lawyer, then you’re going to settle in
somewhere until we can take care of this.”
“I have to take care of something else,” Rafe
stated as they headed for the door.
“The hell you do,” Ryan growled as he followed
close behind Rafe. “Don’t argue with me, Rafe. Not
here.” Rafe waited until they were outside. Turning back
to his uncle, Rafe stared the other man in the eye,
determination tightening his body and burning through
his veins. “I promised Jaymi.” His fists clenched at the
thought of what he had to do. “I’ll meet you wherever
you need me to, but I have to take care of something
first.”
“And what the hell could be more important than
your freedom?” Ryan snarled as he gripped Rafe’s
arm and pulled him around again.
“A promise,” Rafe snapped as he jerked his arm
back.