Page 6 of Wild Rivals

“I’m tired of this shit, Wilde. You think you’re the only one who was impacted that night?” Deacon snaps.

Oh God.

I can feel the tension rolling off them. They’re like two bulls ready to butt heads with no care for the environment they’re in; all they can focus on is the red fabric the other is dangling in front of them.

A crowd forms around them, spectators enjoying the free entertainment before the riders start up again.

Wyatt closes the gap between them, his teeth bared as he spits, “You don’t fucking get it, do you? You don’t⁠—”

Enough. How many more times do they have to repeat the same old shit? God, they’re pathetic and both need to get some therapy or move on.

I burst between them, pushing at Wyatt’s chest and forcing him to take a step back as I move him away from Deacon. With my palm resting on his warm chest, I pull in a breath, focusing on the erratic beating of his heart. “Stop it.”

He looks down at me, his top lip curled in disgust before his face relaxes just enough to tell me I’m getting through to him.

“Please,” I plead softly, like I’m trying to soothe a wild animal.

He shakes his head, his nostrils flaring as he looks between me and Deacon. “Saved by your family yet again, Hart. Fucking coward.”

It doesn’t matter if Deacon is a coward or not. Wyatt could have walked away, or not made a beeline for Deacon in the first place. Instead, he’s doing what he always does: starting shit. When we were younger, I would have challenged Wyatt on calling Deacon out, but now, after all these years, I know that it will get us nowhere. Besides, I don’t need to provide gossip for the town tomorrow and half of them are surrounding us, poised for what will come next.

It’s only when Wyatt steps back that my hand falls to my side. There’s a tingling sensation in my fingers from the contact, and I press my lips together to mute my heavy breaths. I hadn’t even realized I’d still been touching him, and yet it feels like I’ll carry this reminder for the rest of the night.

He storms off, his back straight and fists clenched at his sides, as I’m left frozen in place. The once bustling arena now feels deadly quiet, and I’m not sure I could move even if I wanted to. It’s as if he’s put a spell on me and all I can do is watch his retreating form.

It could be a matter of seconds or minutes, but Wyatt is nowhere in sight when the emcee’s voice blasts over the sound system announcing the next event. The sound pierces the quiet bubble I was in, bringing me back to the moment with a bump.

What the fuck was that?

As the crowd disperses, I round on Deacon, ignoring every cell in my body that demands I analyze what the hell just happened. Stepping into his space, I narrow my eyes, ready to take my confusion, frustration and anger out on him. It’s easier to deal with Deacon than it is to acknowledge that Wyatt might have some sort of hold over me. That’s dangerous territory.

“I thought we were here to have fun?” I demand, setting my hands on my hips. “Sibling bonding time, or whatever the hell you want to call it?”

He points in the direction that Wyatt went. I can feel the dark cloud hanging over him, and if we’re not careful, it will pull him under again. Just like it did fifteen years ago. “I’m sorry, but that wasn’t on me, Mads.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling before I meet his gaze. “None of it is, Deacon, I know that, but you’ve got to stop letting him get under your skin. This happens far too often, and he’ll just keep pushing because he can.”

He reaches up and squeezes the back of his neck. I know that the decision he made all those years ago still eats him up. He lives with it every day, but he has to move on.

“You’re right.”

I step into his side, banding an arm around his waist and squeezing him. “Maybe it’s time you saw that therapist Dr. Odin recommended?”

His body tenses before he forces himself to relax. I step back, searching his face and hating the fact that he looks so lost. “I’ll think about it.”

That’s all I can ask.

I exhale a heavy breath before grumbling, “You still owe me a funnel cake.”

Deacon chuckles, and my shoulders relax as he pulls me into his side. “Come on then, let’s go get you one together, seeing as I apparently can’t be trusted.”

I think I might be the one who can’t be trusted, especially if I let Wyatt affect me like that again. It’s about time I took some of my own advice and firmed up the barriers around me.

5

MADDIE

Uncertainty mixes with the excitement pooling in the pit of my stomach as I move through Daddy’s house. A year ago, he stepped back from the day-to-day running of the ranch, but for our investments, I still need his approval. Not because he doesn’t trust me, but because the ranch is still in his name and will be until he’s no longer around.