Bred by the Bushmen

No one was going to berate him more than himself, and right now he was so fucking pissed off. He’d put Opal at risk because of his stupidity.

“You know, you seem to have a real issue with homosexuality. You ever thought about talking to someone about that?” he asked.

Again, no one said anything.

Asshole came out of the laundry room, and he held a pair of Opal’s thongs. Dammit. “I thought you said there was no woman here?”

“They’re not a woman’s, they’re mine.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, and he was cursing himself a million times over right now. “Let’s be real for a second, and forget my weird taste in lingerie. Let’s talk about why you’re on my land. You’ve got me here, in my very own home, at gunpoint. Don’t you think that should warrant … I don’t know … an explanation?”

“You live in a beautiful place,” Asshole said. “There’s a lot of land, a lot of trees. You know, a lot that can be … done with the place.”

Damon stared at him as everything clicked into place.

He smiled. “Wow.”

Bigger Asshole frowned. “What’s wow about it?”

“Let me guess, you’re two hired thugs that have been given the job of taking my brother and myself out of the equation. This land belongs to us. Our family. We’re dead, we’ve got no one to hand it down to, and so it goes up for sale.”

“Where it will sell for the cheapest price, and make a shit load of money.”

Their uncle had warned them both about certain land purchases, and how companies would do anything to make a quick buck. The logging industry was ruthless and in desperate pursuit of old-growth land.

Sitting back in his chair, he stared at the two men. “I don’t get it. You can kill me now. What are you waiting for?”

Before they could answer, the sound of an engine out front had Damon cursing.

What the hell had happened to Opal?

His heart raced, and from the position he was sitting in the living room, he couldn’t see who had arrived.

This was not how he wanted his life to end. He didn’t know why the two men hadn’t killed him, unless they just wanted them both to suffer. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t let them attack his brother.

Caleb needed to get out of this alive. He’d be able to care for Opal.

He glanced around the room, looking for a weapon. His brother always stashed them around the house. When someone knocked at the door, he used the distraction to his advantage.

Running his hands across the cushions, he moved toward the end of the sofa, and leaned down. Now that he knew what the hell was going on, all they needed to find out now was who the company belonged to, and also, who hired them.

Reaching beneath the sofa, he felt the edge of the gun strapped underneath. Bigger Asshole chose that moment to look at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He didn’t answer.

“Get back in your chair or I’ll tie you to it!”

The door swung open as he sat back down.

“Damon, baby, I’m home.” The sound of Opal’s voice from the front porch had him gritting his teeth.

What the fuck was going on?

“I thought you said there wasn’t a woman here?” Asshole said.

Before he could say or do anything, Asshole opened the front door.

“You’re not Damon.”

“I’m Damon’s friend,” he said. “Who are you?”

He heard Opal giggle. “You’re Damon’s friend? I don’t think he has a lot of friends. Except these.”

He didn’t know what she did but from the moan that came out of the other man, he had to figure it was something sexual.

“Opal, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Damon, baby, are you not coming to the door to invite me in? It’s our special time, and you know how I love it when you’re all mean and rough to me. Where’s Caleb? Doesn’t he want to join in the fun?”

He had to be in some kind of fucking dream right now. He didn’t have a clue what was going on.

First, he’d never heard Opal speak like that, and second, she knew the trouble they were in. With a gun trained on him, he was having a harder time thinking than normal.

Had she found Caleb?

Did they have a plan?

Dammit!

Chapter Ten

Opal’s heart was beating like a freight train. She had to keep up a cool exterior even though she felt like crumbling to pieces. The men inside the house were worse than she imagined—dirty, savage, and cold. The one who answered the door had a beer gut, a filthy beard, and yellow teeth. It took all her resolve to follow through with their plan of seduction. She wanted to be sick.

“We all like to have fun, little lady. Come on in from the cold.” The drifter held the door open for her to enter. She cautiously stepped inside. Damon was sitting in a chair, not moving to get up. The other drifter stood awkwardly to the side, trying to hide his rifle, but she noticed the barrel peeking out from behind his leg. She put on her best acting job and pretended to be oblivious to everything.