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“Heads up,” Evander says from in front of me.
Three people are walking toward us. They look like men, all wearing trench coats. One of them stumbles. Another is carrying a jar.
Evander falls back, bringing his horse in line with mine.
“Listen to me this time. I’ll do the talking.”
I already have my bow in hand. I put a hand on my horse’s neck to steady myself as I reach back to get an arrow from my quiver and nock it.
“Okay,” I say. “But if any of them get too close to me, I’m shooting.”
“You won’t have to.”
“Hey there!” the man holding the jar yells at us.
One of his friends stumbles and falls, the third man laughing at him. All of them are drunk, high, or both.
“We’re friendly!” Jar Guy says. “You wanna trade?”
Evander pulls his horse ahead of mine.
“No.” His commanding tone holds a note of menace.
“Whoa!” The man swings his jar in our direction. “You need a drink, fella. Trade you some dew for fifteen minutes with your girl.”
“Fuck off.” There’s a click as he flips off the safety on his gun, which I didn’t realize he had in his hand, at waist level.
“Come on, doll!” The drunk guy looks at me and smiles. At least half his teeth are missing and the remaining ones are broken and yellow. “I’ll make it fun for you, too. Find some creative places to stick that arrow.”
“Look at my wife again and I’ll blow your fucking head off.” Evander raises the gun and points it at him.
Something inside me ignites. My arrow wavers slightly. Possessive Evander is sexy as hell. Even if it is an act. I’ve never seen this side of him.
The guy who fell down is on his knees now, puking. The one Evander just yelled at has his arms out at his sides, with about an inch of a foul-looking brown liquid left in the jar.
“Go around me,” Evander tells me, not looking away from him.
He uses Thunder’s reins to turn him around as I steer Raisin around the opposite side of the three men. Jane is linked to Thunder by a loose rope, and she’s obliviously grazing on grass and weeds.
“If I can still see you fuckers in thirty seconds, I’m shooting,” he yells.
“Asshole,” one of them mutters.
I look over my shoulder and find two of them running, the guy who puked still trying to get on his feet. Bringing Raisin to a stop, I wait and watch.
They’re stumbling, half-running. I don’t think they’re used to moving fast. One of them turns around and flips us off.
Evander raises his gun, firing a shot that hits the road right next to the man. He jumps in alarm and sprints away.
When they’re out of sight, Evander watches for a couple minutes to make sure they don’t come back. Then he turns Thunder around, his gaze flicking to mine.
“You good?” he asks.
Just oddly aroused, thanks for asking. “Yeah.”
“Let’s pick up speed for a few miles to put some distance between them and us. You lead.”
My heart’s still racing as I turn and lightly kick Raisin into motion. It’s been a long time since the horseback riding lessons I took as a kid, but I remember enough.
