Crux Untamed (Hades Hangmen 6)

Hush covered his face with his hands. “Yeah, but that’s with sluts and club whores.”

“And?”

“And she’s not one! She’s nowhere near a slut. She’s . . . just . . . more.”

Hush turned away from me. I stared up at the moon outside of the window. “Just tell her, Val. Fuck. She’ll understand. You’re here. Living here for the time being. She might find out anyway.”

I would never tell him so, but sometimes guarding his secret was real fucking hard. Especially when he refused any good thing that came our way because of it. All he ever said was . . .

“She’s worth more,” Hush whispered.

And there it was. What my best friend thought about himself. That he was nothing. A fucked-up past had conditioned him to forever think that way. “She deserves more.”

“She’s worth you,” I argued, but I knew I’d get no response. “She’s worth us both.” I turned over, punching the pillow into shape with my fist.

Closing my eyes, I pictured Sia on that horse today, telling me how she needed the horses to feel better. I thought of my stubborn-ass brother behind me and knew he needed me like that too. I had become his fucking emotional crutch. But there was no way I was walking away from him. Didn’t know what life looked like without him in it anyhow. We’d been this way for so long I’d be fucking lost without him. And I didn’t even wanna think what he’d be like without me. We’d always flown two-up, him and me. Not needing any bitches.

But I could see it with Sia. I could see her with us. They were both so broken and damaged, but I wanted to be there for them. With them.

It wasn’t long before I heard Hush’s breathing even out. I rolled over and looked at him. I saw the scars and burns that littered his dark skin. Then I glanced down at the Confederate flag tattoo on my arm.

I sighed.

I just had to find a way to bring him to my way of thinking. People could change. I was testament to that.

He liked her.

I liked her.

She liked us both.

We lived a fucking strange life, but with Sia, I was sure there was at least a chance we could be something more.

Chapter Five

Sia

Two weeks later . . .

“So . . .” I lifted my head up from grooming Sandy to see Clara standing by the stall door.

“So what?” I smoothed my hand down Sandy’s neck.

Clara’s dark eyes bulged. She was only twenty, but she was the best damn assistant I ever had. To be honest, outside of Ky and Lilah—and now Hush and Cowboy—she was my only friend.

She threw up her hands, and then checked around us. “So? So? Sia, don’t leave me hanging! You tell me you’re coming home and to take a vacation, and then I get back to two of the hottest men I’ve ever seen just shacking up with you, playing house, and you ask me so?”

Dropping my hand from Sandy, I walked to the stall door and unlatched the bolt. Clara only moved back enough for me to get out, before following me into the back room while I collected the bridle and saddle. Clara was hot on my heels as I returned to saddle up Sandy. I sighed and busied myself with the task at hand while trying to think of what the fuck to say.

“Sia!” Clara insisted, clearly annoyed.

I finally looked up. “They’re just watching out for me for a while.”

“Why?”

I wanted to tell Clara what was going on, but Ky had made me swear never to divulge the truth. I shrugged. “My brother got some news that there’d been home invasions around some ranches. He just wants us to be safe.” She knew Ky was a biker. Beyond that, she knew nothing.

No one ever did.

“I hadn’t heard that.” Her eyebrows pulled down.

“Like I said, he’s got contacts. It hasn’t been made public.” I turned my face away and fixed the length of my stirrups.

Clara must have bought my white lie, because when I turned around she was in the stall, looking excited. “Well?” she asked in a hushed voice. “Which one do you like?” She held up a hand as my mouth opened to put her off the scent. “And don’t try to protest. You’ve been walking around here with a spring in your step since I got back, and I know it’s due to either the two-hundred-thirty-pound slice of blond cowboy beef or the milk-chocolate blue-eyed god I’ve seen brooding around this place.”

I shook my head. “Clara, I promise you, I want neither of them.” I was surprised how easily that particular lie slipped from my lips. Because just picturing them, based off her description alone, had my thighs squeezing together; the image of being trapped between them both, naked and sweaty, their hands all over my flesh, filled my mind.

“Really?” she said, hand on hip. “Then why is your face all flushed right now?”

“It’s hot.”

“I’ll tell you what’s hot, the one with the shaved head and full lips.” She bit her tongue. “Have you ever seen eyes that blue before? I swear, I walked past him yesterday, met his eyes, and nearly melted on the spot. If you don’t like him—”

“Leave off Hush, Clara,” I warned, the words leaving my mouth before I’d even had a chance to realize I’d uttered them.

Clara began to smile. She shrugged. “Then I’m good with the blond. I love a Stetson on a guy.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Clara, you’re gonna stay away from both of them, right? Neither is up for grabs.”

Clara’s mouth froze open, and then she covered it with a hand. “Oh shit, Sia. You’re in deep shit. You like both of them.”

“No . . .It’s not . . .” I lamely tried to argue.

“You do!” she exclaimed, her voice much louder than before. “Hell, girlfriend, I see why you do, but liking them will just make things beyond complicated—”

“Liking who?”

My head snapped around to the entrance of the barn. Cowboy stood against the door, arms folded and eyes bright. Clara looked at me, then back at him, eyes comically wide. I swallowed. “Just some guy I met at a bar a while ago.”

Cowboy’s eyebrows pulled down. Then he strode toward me, slow, measured, and seemingly completely pissed.

“I gotta go,” I heard Clara say from behind me. I didn’t once look away from Cowboy. Did

n’t even move as he opened the stall door and came inside, stopping mere inches from me.

“You got a man, cher? You wanting some douchebag from a bar?” he said, and I saw something I had never seen in his gaze before—jealousy . . . and a hint of anger. Those feelings looked strange on Cowboy. He was the epitome of the laid-back southern man.

“No,” I whispered. Cowboy lifted his hand and ran it gently down my arm. My skin bumped in its wake.

“Then who were you talking about, darlin’?” My eyes closed and I sucked in a breath. “Cher?”

His hand ran up and down, up and down, until I couldn’t take it anymore and I blurted, “You.” My eyes flew open.

A slow, satisfied grin pulled on his mouth. He stepped closer. So close that my breasts scraped the hard planes of his chest. I tipped my head back to look up at him. He brushed a strand of hair off my face. “Just me?” he whispered, his deep timbre traveling through my body faster than lightning.

“No,” I relented and watched his smile widen. I knew I was losing my mind. What woman lusted after two men? Then again, what two men sought out women together? The same woman, no jealousy or competition?

None of this was fucking sane . . . yet I couldn’t seem to help myself.

Or bring myself to care.

Cowboy leaned down and brushed a kiss across my cheek. “That’s real good,” he drawled then backed away, leaving me breathless, a walking bag of Jell-O. “I’ve come to watch you train.” He bit his lip exaggeratedly and moaned. “Can’t get enough of seeing you fly around those barrels, cher. Fuck, I think it’s become one of my favorite sights in life.”

Forcing myself to keep my shit together, I took hold of Sandy’s reins and led her from the stall. As we passed the new stallion I was gonna train to be an up-and-coming bronc competitor, I said, “Pepper here needs training today. He’s a bronc. You up for the challenge?” Cowboy had yet to show me his talents, but as soon as Clara picked Pepper up yesterday, I knew I’d soon get my chance to see him in action.