Wilder (The Wild Ones 3)

Take a piece of Tomahawk with you.

—Kai

A few more tears leak out of my eyes, and I take a steadying breath as I clutch the flag to me.

When I turn back around, Reese is giving me a soft, sad look.

“I think I should go. He was right. It really did muddy the waters even more,” I tell her, stepping past her.

“What does that mean?” she asks as she follows.

I shake my head as more and more tears start to fall, and the heaviness continues to settle harder on my chest.

I guess it’s better that he’s not here. I don’t think I could say goodbye a third time, since the first two have left me numb and cold as we pull away and leave Tomahawk. The small town that stole our hearts and unintentionally broke them.

Wild Ones Tip #420

Weed was put on earth for a fucking reason. Life’s a bitch sometimes.

Chapter 20

KAI

*******

“Fuck’s sake. You boys can’t stay stoned out of your minds forever,” Bill snaps.

I pause sharpening the axe head long enough to stare at him.

Killian makes a throat-slashing gesture while simultaneously shaking his head, signaling for Bill to drop it.

Bill, wise man that he is, sighs in defeat and takes the blunt from the table in front of us.

Hale throws his axe, and it stabs the wooden target so hard that it splits it.

I return my attention to sharpening the blade to a razor’s edge.

“There’s still a good chance they could come back,” Bill says, trying a different angle.

At my cold glare, he clears his throat and whistles innocently.

“Don’t say things like that so flippantly,” I warn him, returning my attention to the blade.

Hale throws the next axe so hard that it breaks the fresh target, and the axe flops onto the ground.

“What are you three doing all the way the hell out here?” Bill asks as he coughs around the blunt.

“Don’t try to hang with the cool kids, Uncle Bill. You’re not cut out for it,” Killian says as I swipe the blunt away from the fucker and puff it while continuing my sharpening.

Bill pats his chest, still coughing a little, as I stand to throw my first axe.

I nail my first target so hard that it splits wide open and sends a spray of splinters into the air.

Killian thumbs the stack of targets he helped us make.

“Axe throwing is an excellent way of blowing off steam when you’re frustrated over a woman,” he explains.

“Shit. At this rate, those two are going to give you a run for your money at the next festival,” Bill says with wide eyes.

Killian shrugs.

“Well, I guess not. You’ll stay perpetually frustrated over a woman if you don’t ever open your mouth to tell her how you feel,” Bill adds dryly, cutting a pointed look at Killian.

Killian gives him a flat look in response. “Why are we discussing me right now?”

“You look less murderous than the other two and seemed like the safest option,” Bill answers very unapologetically.

“Their women left nine days ago. They’d only just be leaving if they hadn’t both dumped them early,” Killian points out, gesturing between the two of us.

An axe hurdles through the air about a foot from his head and stabs the tree. Killian swallows the rest of what he was going to say when I pick up the next axe.

“Nice weather we’re having today, huh?” he asks with a straight face.

“Why the hell are you discussing the weather so suddenly?” Bill asks with genuine confusion.

“Because I don’t trust a Wilder with an axe,” Killian explains as he rolls his eyes.

I hurl the next one at a target, splitting it down the middle. Hale gets caught up in randomly hacking at a tree with his axe.

“Land’s sake. You boys aren’t cut out for love if this is how you treat it,” Bill grumbles.

Hale stalks off, and Bill gets up to go after him, but Killian stops him by sticking his leg out and blocking his path.

“Let him go right now. He didn’t realize how far in over his head he was until it was too late,” he says more seriously to Bill.

Bill sighs and sags back to a chair.

“I figured this was going to end bad, but I knew better than to meddle and offer unsolicited advice,” Bill groans.

I throw the next axe.

“If this is what you two look like after a week, I’m glad I didn’t see those first few days,” he adds, muttering the words just loud enough for me to hear.

I grip the axe a little tighter.

“The next axe is going to land between your legs. It won’t cut anything, so long as I’m accurate with the throw,” I warn him.

“I think your weed is defective, because that’s a lot of anger for a guy who should be blitzed on the mellow fellow,” Bill deadpans.

I cut a glare toward him, and he gives me a small smile.