Cowboy's Pride (Welcome to Covendale Book 1) (8 page)

But Tommy wouldn’t. “I mean it, Thatcher. Step off.”

Cam went still. Without looking away from Tommy, he reached back and grabbed the shot of whiskey. He tossed it down in one swallow, slammed the glass on the counter. Then he stepped forward. “Come outside and make me.”

Some of Tommy’s bravado drained, but he held his ground. “Not a chance,” he said. “You’ll just shoot me.”

“Backstabbing son of a bitch! I
should
shoot you.”

The whole bar got quiet again with those ringing words. Tommy’s mouth opened and closed once. When he didn’t say anything more, Cam snarled and pushed past him—only to stop and look straight back at Sydney. “You have a nice life,” he said, his voice dripping with bitterness.

He turned and kept going, and people practically dove out of his way as he stomped through the bar and into the night.

Hot tears pricked Sydney’s eyes. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob, ignoring both Luka and Tommy’s calls as she pushed her way to the ladies’ room so she could fall apart in private.

* * * *

Cam pulled away from The Klinker as fast as the ancient farm truck would let him. Damn it, he knew he shouldn’t have gone in there. But he had unpleasant business in town, and he’d wanted a drink or two in him before he saw to it.

How the hell did Sydney manage to be everywhere he went lately? Six years of nothing, and now he couldn’t avoid her if he tried. And he was definitely trying.

Apparently he wasn’t going to convince her that Tommy was an evil rat bastard, either. She was deep in denial, making up excuses to herself. Determined to go through with this wedding and ruin her life—because she didn’t think there was a problem.

Tommy had always been able to lie like a champ, though. It took Cam years to see through his bullshit.

Right now, much as he wanted to, he couldn’t worry about Sydney. He’d spent most of the day researching and going over paperwork, looking for any way to keep the ranch—some overlooked asset he could sell, a job he could do, a favor he could call in. He came up with exactly jack shit.

He’d also listed out all the businesses in town owned or sold by Boyd Lowell, and tested his theory by paying them a visit. Every single one had denied him service.

The bastard worked fast.

With all of his legal options exhausted, Cam had turned to a more dangerous solution: Eddie Verona, loan shark and ruthless hustler. He’d arranged to meet the man at the old rail yard across town to discuss what Eddie called a “business venture,” and what everyone else called a short trip to the hospital.

Rather than a handshake, Eddie liked to seal his deals with a casual beating from his enforcer, Jonah Dawson. It was supposed to give them a taste of what to expect if they failed to make payments on time—weekly, at thirty percent interest. From what Cam had heard, every missed payment cost a broken bone. Eventually the price went up to a busted spine, and then a shallow grave.

He expected to go home with ten grand and considerable pain. But it’d be worth it to keep Lowell from getting his hands on the ranch. He’d just have to hope he could manage the rest of the payments to Eddie.

As tough as it was running the ranch now, it’d be impossible if he was dead.

Chapter 10

“Well,” Luka said. “I guess the whole town’s got something to talk about for the rest of the year.”

Sydney groaned and dropped her head on folded arms. They were sitting at a table in a bar that was a lot less crowded after the almost-bar-fight. Half the staff had gone home too, since the business had dried up. “Great,” she muttered. “I’m locking myself in my room until the wedding.”

Tommy had apologized profusely to her for acting like a caveman. He said he was just worried about her, with Cam threatening to shoot people and all. She was still kind of mad at him, but figured she’d take tonight to sort through things in her head. They could sit down and talk tomorrow.

He’d pled exhaustion and headed home pretty soon after Cam left. Sydney was tired herself, but she wasn’t ready to go. Hanging out with Luka helped her calm down.

Luka picked at the plate of nachos on the table and glanced at the door for the millionth time, while Sydney pretended not to notice her looking for Reese. Then she sighed. “What am I going to do with you, girl? You defended Cam Thatcher. Your mortal enemy. I don’t know what to think now.”

“Neither do I.” Sydney’s third drink was almost gone. She drained the rest of it and shoved the glass off to the side. “Luka…what if we’re all wrong about him?”

“Okay. Now you’re scaring me.”

“I’m serious,” she said. “Didn’t you see how everybody acted when he came in here? Like he was a disease they could catch if he got too close.”

Luka snorted. “That’s because he’s a big, walking asshole.”

“See what I mean? Everybody thinks that.” She frowned. “You should’ve seen Jim Wyatt talking to him. And Kenny at the garage, earlier today. It was awful.”

“Syd.” Luka suddenly looked serious. “He threatened to shoot your fiancé. Remember?”

She shook her head. “That wasn’t a threat. It was more like…I don’t know. Wishful thinking, maybe. I just can’t believe he’d really shoot anyone.” At least, not after everything he’d done for her lately.

“All right, I give up. You’re crazy,” Luka said. She glanced at the door again—and did a double-take. Her eyes got huge. “Oh my God,” she said in a loud whisper. “He’s
here.
Do I look terrible? Be honest.”

Sydney couldn’t help grinning. “You look great.”

“Well, I feel terrible. Or maybe awesome. I can’t tell.” Luka drew in a shaky breath and stood. “Okay, I’m gonna go say hi. I’ll be back in a few minutes, all right?”

“Don’t come back.” Sydney got up too. “You hang out with Reese. I think I’ll go over and surprise Tommy.” He only lived a five-minute walk from the bar. Even if he was too tired to fool around—and she wasn’t sure she had the urge anymore—she could crash there and have him drive her home in the morning.

“Sanity returns.” Luka stepped over and hugged her. “Wish me luck?”

“You don’t need it.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes, waved and headed for Reese.

Sydney slipped out of The Klinker and managed to avoid talking to anyone. It was still a balmy night, but a slight breeze kept the moisture from settling and felt delicious against her overheated skin. She walked slowly, trying to let her mind clear a little. It didn’t help that she’d already drank more than usual, including half the cocktail Tommy had bought her.

By the time she got to his place, a second-floor apartment above a strip of boutique stores on the town’s main street, she felt a little better. More in control. There were still a few things she wanted to talk to him about, but they could wait until morning.

She’d also resolved to apologize to Cam somehow, before the wedding and her permanent ban from the ranch. He probably wouldn’t accept it. But at least she’d feel better about it—well, she hoped so, anyway.

She walked up the stairs, digging her keys from a pocket. Tommy had given her a key months ago, but this would be the first time she’d used it. No light shone from under his front door. If he was already asleep, she’d just crash on the couch. She unlocked the door and opened it as quietly as possible, then closed it gently.

Inside, the only light came from the bedroom hallway. She was glad he was still awake at least, so he’d know she was here. She started down the hall—and froze when she heard laughter.

Female laughter.

Sydney’s stomach churned crazily. She couldn’t have heard that right. Maybe he was watching a movie or something…but he didn’t have a TV in the bedroom. She started moving again, slowly, holding her breath and listening for some sign that she was wrong.

Then she heard the laugh again, chased by a moan. And the rhythmic creak of bedsprings.

Fury and pain twisted through her like breaking glass. She dropped the caution, practically ran down the short hallway, and yanked the bedroom door open.

Tommy. And Stephanie, with the big assets. He was on top, his naked ass clenching as her nails scored his back. He bent his head to her ample breasts—and her eyes met Sydney’s.

“Oh…
oh!
Tommy,” the waitress said breathlessly. “Company.”

She could see the shockwave run through him as he froze mid-rut. His head came up with an audible popping sound that sickened her. He turned to look—cheeks flushed, hair damp, sweat beading at his temples. He licked his lips.

In a flash Sydney knew that whatever came from his mouth, she’d probably try to kill him for it.

“Don’t say a word.” Her voice came out hoarse and choked, completely foreign to her own ears. “I mean it. You open your mouth, I’m going to shove something sharp in it.” She fumbled with her engagement ring and twisted it off her finger, suddenly loathing the damned thing with a bright hatred she’d never felt before. She dropped it on the carpeted floor like a disease. “You’ll probably need to have that resized,” she spat.

Somehow she managed to walk out of the apartment and down the stairs. Then she emptied her guts in the bushes along the sidewalk, and wobbled back toward the bar.

* * * *

“I can give you five thousand.”

Eddie Verona lit a fresh cigarette from the butt of the one he’d been smoking, and pitched the old one onto the weed-choked tracks. A tall man with stooped shoulders, slender build, and weathered face, he looked like a Halloween scarecrow someone forgot to put away for the winter. Creepy, but not threatening.

The threat was behind him in the shadows. Like all the Dawson boys, Jonah was made out of muscle and mean—and liked to let his fists do the talking. Luka’s three older brothers had been the terrors of Covendale since they were kids.

But Cam wasn’t about to let either of them intimidate him. “Well, I need ten,” he said. “If you only give me five, I can’t hold onto the ranch. So basically, I’d be borrowing some expensive toilet paper to wipe my ass with until I lose everything, and then you kill me.”

Eddie laughed. “I’ve heard of people doing worse with my money,” he said. “But that’s the way I do business. See, I haven’t worked with you before, so I don’t know you.” He dragged on the cigarette and blew smoke out slowly. “If you don’t pay me back, the worst I can do is kill you for five thousand. I can’t kill you twice for ten. Understand?”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“You say that, sure. They all say that.” Eddie took another thoughtful drag. “I could go as high as six,” he said.

Cam glowered at him. “I need ten.”

“I can’t help you, then.” He gestured at Jonah, and they turned and started away.

“Wait. There has to be something you want.”

Eddie stopped and pivoted slowly. “What I want is money,” he said. “If that’s what you had to offer, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. Isn’t that right?”

Cam heaved a breath. “Look…I’m desperate,” he said. “I worked out a deal with the bank, but Lowell talked them into backing out. If I don’t give them the whole amount, he gets the ranch.”

“Lowell?” Eddie’s brow went up. “Are we talking Boyd Lowell, by any chance?”

“Yeah. Son of a bitch wants to turn my place into a golf course,” he said. “Apparently he’s got a buyer all lined up. And I wouldn’t sell, so now he’s trying to squeeze me out.”

Eddie grinned. The bony smile was a lot more threatening than his serious expression. “I help you, Boyd Lowell gets screwed?”

“Out of millions.”

“Perfect.” He half-turned to address his enforcer. “Jonah, get the case out of the car and put it in Mr. Thatcher’s truck.”

“Wait a minute. I thought you said you only had five.”

“I lied.” Eddie shrugged, dropped his cigarette and ground it out. “Heard you were a stubborn bastard, so I figured you might just talk me into a better deal. To be honest, I didn’t expect it to turn out better for me.”

He shook his head. “What do you have against Boyd Lowell?” he said. “Not that anyone needs a reason to hate that greasy bastard.”

“Well. You see, I have one rule when it comes to lending money—no politics. I believe that democracy should never be bought.”

Cam shot him a skeptical look. “You’re a moral criminal?”

“Not moral, Mr. Thatcher. Democratic. Without democracy, I could never do what I do.” The chilling grin resurfaced. “Anyway, Lowell sent his boy Tommy to borrow a considerable amount of money from me. He said it was for a muscle car. He paid me back ahead of time—and that’s when I found out Lowell had used my money to buy himself into the town selectman’s seat.”

“And you didn’t kill him?”

“Of course not. It’s against my policy to collect interest when payment’s been made. Besides, he bought himself into a high enough profile to protect him.” A dark look swept over Eddie’s face. “I have proof of his election-buying scheme. Unfortunately, I’m not in a position to expose him due to my…less than moral reputation.”

Cam nodded slowly. “I might be able to help you with that,” he said. “I’ll look into it after I stop his golf course.”

“Tell you what,” Eddie said. “You take Boyd Lowell down, I’ll drop your interest rate to five percent, no late charges. Until then, it’s thirty with penalties—but you can have the first month interest-free. Do we have a deal?” He held out a hand.

Cam took it. “Deal.”

Just then, Jonah came back over and stopped behind Eddie. He didn’t say anything. But Eddie seemed to sense him anyway, because he said, “All right. The money is yours, Mr. Thatcher.” He paused, and added, “Oh—we do have one more detail to take care of. If I’m not mistaken, I believe you know what it is.”

Jonah stepped forward, flexing a fist.

“Yeah,” Cam sighed. “I guess I do.”

“I am sorry about this. If it helps at all, it’s just business.” Eddie moved back and gave a single nod. “Don’t break anything, Jonah,” he said.

“Sure,” the big man rumbled. “Not this time.”

Cam tried to steel himself, wishing he’d been able to get a second shot down earlier. But it was over fast—four well-placed blows, and he was on his knees gasping for breath. The man hit like a boulder.