Eva chatted with Laura for another half hour, catching up on her life as a publicist for a small record label in the city, and Laura’s own man-centered shenanigans. Eva promised to call her later and keep her updated on the situation, after once again assuring her that she was and would remain safe. The conversation had Eva feeling lighter and more centered than she had before.

As she stood up from the bed to stretch a little, her eyes caught some movement in the wood near the bar through the window in her room. Across the meadow, Charlie and Will were stalking around the perimeter, inspecting, stooping, pointing. Making some sort of battle plan, no doubt, she thought.

Will moved through the trees like a graceful predator as she watched, hidden from his view. What was it that kept whispering in her head, telling her he was more than he seemed. He left no room for doubt during their earlier conversation about his own feelings toward her.

But then she remembered the look on his face when he knelt before her and picked up her book with gentle, concerned hands. The loving way he straightened all the crooked pages back to their proper spots. The soft way he had asked if she was okay.

Eva sighed as the sun lit up his rust-colored hair even as he moved between the trees. If only it would illuminate more of the man underneath.

~ EIGHT ~

Will chewed on the ugly words he had spit at Eva for the next few hours as he investigated the grounds around the bar. Charlie was giving him a tour of their borders and buildings. He was surprised to see that the bar’s owner, Owen, actually lived in a modest rambler only fifty yards or so from the bar itself, tucked up in the tree line. That made things easier—he didn’t have to worry about watching some second location where Eva and Charlie might be threatened, and he didn’t have to try and talk them into camping at the bar until this all blew over.

He didn’t understand why he felt guilty about the way he talked to Eva. When was the last time he ever felt guilty about anything, especially something involving a woman? He wasn’t a total piece of shit—he intentionally sought out women like him, who lived rough lives on the edge and weren’t looking for more than momentary physical comfort. He made his intentions clear from the beginning. He didn’t lead them on or abuse them or fuck with their emotions like many other so-called men in the world did regularly. Will always found it bitterly funny that these same men would look down on him for being an outlaw and not participating in some bullshit “respectable” corporate world, just to turn around and treat their wives worse than he would ever consider treating a woman. He wanted to fuck Eva, sure. But he didn’t fuck women like Eva.

But he still felt guilty about what he had said to her, and that guilt only made him angry. Eva had no idea what she was getting into. She didn’t seem to understand how much danger she and Charlie could be in.

That being said, Will was trying to bury his growing lust for her that very clearly did not want to be ignored. Lust was nothing new, and he usually had no problems serving it. But he served it with the right type of women. A different type of woman. Not one who was as soft and breakable as Eva. He didn’t need some moon-eyed out of town girl falling in love with the roughneck bad boy. Not here. Not now.

Will realized Charlie had been talking to him, and he hadn’t heard much of it. He tried to play it off otherwise as Charlie pointed out the two cheap security cameras stationed on corners of the roof on the bar. Then he turned and pointed into the woods. “There’s also one on the house, running to the same closed circuit feed.”

Will nodded. “Helpful.”

“What kind of a response are you expecting, exactly?” asked Charlie. He was probably close to Will’s age, maybe a few years younger; attractive kid with arms and a chest that told of manual, blue-collar labor. Something about his down-to-brass-tacks demeanor made him seem older, reminding Will of the old school World War II veterans that used to hang around visiting his grandfather. Charlie was an old soul with a lot of emotion.

“That depends,” said Will. He ran a hand through his hair as the wind tussled it, scanning the bar. “They’ll bring back a lot more men if they think we are going to do the same. If they think we’re still weak, well, then maybe only a few. It will be more than two, either way.”

“So you don’t know?” said Charlie. “I thought you knew what you were doing with this stuff?”

“Look, this isn’t like baking a cake where we follow a recipe. This is warfare. Do you have any idea the insane amount of variables that come into play planning a tactical response?”

Charlie blinked. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “No, I guess I don’t.”

“I have to guess what those fuckers are going to do next, based on the information I think they might have about us. What a general wouldn’t give for absolutes.” Will paced off a few feet into the green underbrush to get a better look at the house just up the incline. He imagined that’s where Eva had stormed off to.

“So, what do we do?” asked Charlie.

“Do you have any weapons?” said Will.

“I think there’s a shotgun inside, and I know I’ve seen more than one axe around the property.”

Ghost would never forgive me for battling with axes and not inviting him. “Unless you and your sister have had some medieval weapons training, I think we’ll just stick with firearms. I have a few.”

“You can’t really just shoot them, can you? You’ll be arrested for sure, that’s murder.”

“Self-defense,” said Will as he trudged around Charlie and wandered back into the bar. “And make no mistake, that’s exactly what it will be. They’re not going to come back peacefully. So don’t get your panties in a twist worrying about murder.”

“It’s still a sin,” said Charlie in a lower voice.

Will let out a harsh laugh and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He dug in his pockets and fished out a pack of smokes. “Then call yourself a priest when we’re done, Murdock, because I can’t fucking help you get right with God.” He blew out a puff of smoke. “But I just might keep you alive long enough to make it to confession.”

Charlie came close to him, and looked over his shoulder before he spoke. “I want you to leave my sister out of this,” he said. “Whatever plans you have to defend this place, don’t write her into them. It’s just me and you, understand?”

Will gave him a look as he exhaled smoke. “Are you saying she’s not a secret assassin, then?”

“Listen, asshole, I’m serious,” said Charlie, pointing a finger to Will’s chest. “Just stay away from her.”

“I would be pretty shitty at my job if I tried to put bookworms in sundresses on my front lines,” said Will. “You don’t need to worry about that.” Talking about Eva out loud only made an image of her pop into Will’s head, beautiful and distracting. With it, his guilt resurfaced.

“Good,” said Charlie. “My uncle called earlier to check in and I didn’t know what all to tell him, so I just got off the phone and said I’d call him back. I really want to tell him what’s going on with his bar.”

“Don’t,” said Will. “We don’t know who’s listening. And he could still be—“

“He is not involved with this,” insisted Charlie with gritted teeth. “And you want me to just lie about all this?”

“Don’t lie, just keep your fucking mouth shut. Tell him things are fine. He can’t do anything to help us, anyway.”

“Just like the cops, right?”

Will finished his whiskey and stood in front of Charlie with his shoulder squared. “If you don’t trust me, Murdock, that’s fine. I’ll go. But believe me when I tell you that you and that lovely sister of yours will pay the price if I do.” He paused. “I’ve seen it before.”