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Taking the Reins(43)

By:Kat Murray


“Wasn’t no secret I was banging Sylvia. Shit, I’m sure everyone knew.”

From the sounds of it, they did, yes. But how tasteful of him to remind everyone listening.

“The way I figure it, you saw the good deal I had going, and once I was out of the way, you wanted some of it yourself.”

“The good deal . . .” His hand tightened around the cue, biting into the polished wood. How hard would he have to hit the man with the stick for it to be technically considered assault?

Was there such a thing as justifiable homicide?

“Yeah. You not following me? I had the mom. Now you can have the daughter.”

Fuck. There it was. The breaking point.

“You mother fu—”

“Gentlemen.” A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder, squeezing hard. “How’s the shootin’ tonight?”

Trace stood shoulder to shoulder with Red, his presence obviously adding to Nylen’s opposition. Though his stance was casual, relaxed, Red didn’t miss the tension vibrating his shoulder via the man’s grip.

Nylen seemed either oblivious to the additional support, or he really was the world’s biggest idiot. “Trace Muldoon. I was just talking about your family.”

“Were you.” His hand tightened almost imperceptibly on Red’s shoulder. “Rehashing good times?”

“I do miss your mama,” he said, somehow managing to imply a wealth of dirty thoughts with those five simple words.

“I’m sure you do. But she’s gone now.” No remorse or sadness lingered in his tone. “And we’ve got the ranch now. And as I hear it, you were let go.”

“I did good work.” He tossed the cue down on the table, scattering balls. “Peyton had no right.”

“She had every right,” Trace argued softly. “And every reason, as I hear it.”

Nylen’s face flushed an unattractive shade of purple. “I did good work,” he snarled again. “That bitch lied, whatever she said. I did good work. She was jealous I didn’t get to her fast enough after her mother died. She was just—”

He moved with lethal speed, and Trace let him. Before the sentence was finished, Red had Nylen trapped against the wall, fists gripping around his shirt, lifting him off the ground so only his toes touched.

“I think I must have heard you wrong,” Red said softly. “I believe I heard you say something not very nice about Peyton Muldoon. And that can’t be right, since I know she’s damn near perfect. So maybe you want to try again. And this time, choose wiser words.”

Nylen choked out a sound, though it wasn’t anything in English. Red’s arm ached at holding up the man’s weight.

“That’s what I thought.” He eased the man back down but didn’t step away. “See, that’s her brother over there, and I’m sure he would love nothing more than to remind you how much he loves his sister. But right now, he’s letting me have a turn.”

Nylen’s eyes widened, reminding him of a cartoon frog. And not the princely kind. “She’s got you by the sac, doesn’t she?”

He lifted his arm until his elbow was angled against the man’s windpipe. “Try again.”

Nylen wheezed. “Nice girl,” he strangled out.

Trace patted him on the back. “I think our . . . friend . . . is ready to take his leave now.”

Letting go and stepping back completely, Red watched as the other man slid down the wall a little.

“I hope there’s no problem back here,” a stern, feminine voice said from behind them. Red glanced over his shoulder to see the woman from behind the bar standing at the entrance to the pool room, hands on her hips, looking ready to take action if she had to.

“No, no problem at all,” Trace said easily. “Mr. Nylen here was just about to leave.”

She watched the three of them closely, as if waiting for one of them to give up his hand. When no one said a word, she nodded. “Fine with me. Nylen, Jenna’s got your bill rung up at the bar. Cash out and go.”

He walked away, wobbling a little, and cursed as he exited the small back room.

The dark-haired bartender crossed her arms over her chest. “I hate fighting. I don’t want it in here. And I have no problems calling the cops to remove anyone who throws a punch.”

“No punches here,” Red promised. No need to mention how closely he’d been tempted.

“Better not be.”

“Aw, come on now.” Sliding over to stand next to her, Trace gave her a smile that Red could imagine had melted too many hearts in the past. “I’m sure your boss knows what he’s in for. Cowboys get a little rowdy sometimes. It all works itself out in the end.”