Page 51 of Claiming Ours (Anchor Bay #2)

LIAM

P ain radiated from every taut muscle as I stretched out my aching lower back.

Between the all-day chainsaw work and making the ride from Caper to Anchor Bay in one day, it felt like I would never move again without groaning.

The last scoop of enriched grain fell into the feed bucket as I smoothed thankful strokes along the mare’s neck.

With a final pat, I exited the stall, letting her eat in peace.

As I secured the lock, I caught Memphis out of the corner of my eye sitting on a bale of straw while staring off into space, his shoulders slumped, looking as exhausted as I felt.

We pushed our bodies to the limit in an effort to return as quickly as possible, both of us hating being so far from Baylee after what we found on the way to Caper.

Well, we would feel that insistent pull no matter what, but the dead woman added to the overall stress of being away from our girl.

“You ready?” I asked, voice like gravel from the shit sleep the last three nights and stressing my forty-plus-year-old body to the max.

Memphis grunted a noncommittal response and stood, stretching both arms over his head. Our combined sluggish steps barely sounded over the animals eating as we headed to the open barn doors.

“That was fucking brutal,” Memphis groaned as he twisted side to side, stretching out his back, “but worth the exhaustion. The whole extended family appreciated what we did, us being there to help them. It was a nice change of pace, being thanked.”

I waved at Dax as he hurried past us, almost too distracted to notice. “Do you not get that often in your job back in Florida?”

He snorted and ran a hand through his dirty hair. “Fuck no. A handful of times maybe, but it’s a high-stress, thankless job most days.”

“Your compassion and skills deserve to be appreciated by those you’re helping. Maybe somewhere that could use someone dedicated and knowledgeable of trauma care and would know they were lucky to have you.”

He cut his green eyes my way with a slow nod. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that since Amy’s not-so-subtle conversation after West’s accident.”

Good. I hoped it had made him really consider the ways he could affect not only our community but everyone in Anchor Bay.

At the base of the steps to Baylee’s cabin, we limped up to the porch.

“I’m going to say hi to her, then head over to my place to shower so you can take hers.” I turned the doorknob, but it just slid in my palm. “Good girl, Little Bit,” I murmured as I knocked on the door. “She actually locked it.”

“Just say hi, my ass,” Memphis huffed. “Even though we’re both exhausted, we want to do more than just say hello to our girl. It’s been a long, few days without her. I don’t know how I survived only on memories the last few years we were apart. That shit wouldn’t be enough now.”

I shifted, angling my ear to the door, listening for footsteps. Hand in a light fist, I pounded on the door, the dogs inside barking as the hinges rattled.

“That’s Elvis,” Memphis stated, staring at the solid wood. “And I’m guessing Hank.”

“Right, so where is she?”

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled my keys free.

Finding hers, I slid it into the hole and twisted the metal, releasing the lock.

The angry growls turned to joyful barks when I shoved open the door and we stepped inside.

Hank’s tail was swishing side to side along the hardwood floor while Elvis straightened from his attack position to bound over to Memphis, who hugged him like a long-lost friend.

“Baylee?” I called out as I checked the kitchen, patting Hank’s head as I passed.

Each second that went by with no response had my pulse inching higher and higher.

I eyed BamBam on the island, nose twitching as he did the same to me.

“Where is she?” I asked, not expecting a response but fucking wishing for one.

Striding to her room, I grunted in frustration at the made bed and no Baylee. Same with the bathroom. Out in the living room, I yanked out my cell and tapped her number, pressing the smooth surface to my ear.

“Where is she?” Memphis asked, hand nervously stroking the top of Elvis’s head.

“I knew we shouldn’t have left her alone. Fuck,” I cursed when her sweet voice poured through the phone, telling me to leave a message. “She’s not picking up.”

“We should call that sheriff guy. He was the last one to see her, right? Or that mountain man guy.”

If I hadn’t been freaking the fuck out, I would’ve chuckled at his description of Ethan. Nodding in agreement with his suggestion, I flicked through my contacts, tapping Oliver’s number.

“Liam, I was?—”

“Baylee is missing,” I snapped, my boots thumping against the floor as I paced the living room. Hank watched me from his spot on the floor, whining at my distress. “We need to get everyone to start?—”

“She’s not missing,” Oliver said calmly. “She’s with me.”

My grip tightened on the phone and I came to a complete stop, every muscle frozen yet coiled, ready to strike.

“What?” I growled so low both dogs responded with their own. Despite knowing neither of them would hurt me like that, my trauma-triggered thoughts went to them being together behind my back. Confusion and hurt swirled in my gut, making the few pieces of jerky I ate churn as bile crept up my throat.

“There was….” Oliver paused; a heavy breath sounded through the line. “An incident involving Baylee yesterday?—”

A red haze coated my vision, clearing away the earlier hurt and leaving anger and fear in its wake.

Knowing it was the dumbest fucking move ever, I hurled the phone at the stone fireplace with a fury-filled roar.

The device instantly smashed into a thousand pieces, bits of metal flying around the room from the force of the impact.

Every breath hurt as my chest heaved while I glared at the ruined cell in utter disbelief.

“That was fucking dumb,” Memphis snapped. “What did he say? Where the fuck is she?” He was suddenly in my face, shoving my chest with more strength than I expected. My spine slammed to the wall, too shocked to put up a fight. “Where is she?” he roared.

I stared blankly at his face while running through the normal conversation she and I had the night before. What could’ve happened that she didn’t feel like she could tell me when we spoke?

The sound of voices and hurried footsteps on the porch had both our heads snapping that direction just as the door swung open, crashing against the opposite wall.

Baylee stumbled into the cabin, her clear blue eyes wide as they bounced around the room, finally landing on me.

Palms to Memphis’s shoulders, I shoved him out of my way.

The momentum had his thighs clipping the back of the couch, sending him tumbling over it with a string of shouted curses.

The cabin shook with every urgent step across the room until she was wrapped up tight in my arms.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m okay,” she whispered, sliding two fingertips along my back in calming strokes.

The boiling anger had each breath quick and shallow, sending strands of her soft blonde hair floating in the air.

“I’m okay.” Unable to respond, I buried my face tighter against her neck.

“Liam, look at me.” Her small hand pressed against my cheek and urged me to pull back.

“I’m okay. I didn’t realize you’d be back so soon or I would’ve been here to?—”

I devoured her surprised squeak as I sealed my lips to hers in a searing, dominant kiss.

I kissed her like it was our first and last, like she was the air I needed to fucking survive another second.

Which I guess she was. Not literally, obviously, but in every way that mattered to my heart and soul.

Somewhere behind me, Memphis and Oliver spoke in hushed voices, but I didn’t pay the conversation any attention, not with Baylee safe in my arms. Except when Memphis shouted something and attempted to storm out the door, only to be yanked back by Oliver.

I pulled my lips from Baylee’s, narrowing my eyes at them to get a read on what the fuck was going on.

Memphis’s chest heaved, eyes wide and wild as he tried to leave once again.

“For fuck’s sake,” Oliver bellowed, grabbing him by the shoulders and whirling him around in an impressive move.

“Will you two manic idiots please calm the fuck down?” He slammed the door closed and slumped against it, ripping off his hat to rub at both temples.

“Baylee, I need some help right now before they kill me.”

Tapping my shoulder, Baylee tipped her head toward the ground. It was only then that I realized she was in the air, squeezed tight to my chest. Grunting in reluctant acceptance, I eased my hold until her tennis shoes touched the hardwood floor.

She held up both hands in a calming gesture, gaze locked on mine as she slowly backed away toward the other angry male in the room.

At Memphis’s side, both arms went around his waist, and she buried her face against his chest. His palpable bubbling rage turned to a simmer the instant he wrapped her up and rested his chin on the top of her head.

“Start. Talking,” I gritted out, jutting an accusing finger at Oliver, but it was Baylee who responded.

“I searched out Oliver today because I thought he should know about an uncomfortable incident that happened yesterday in the clinic after he left.” My face must have shown the suspicion that churned in my chest, because she rushed out the next part.

“When he came by with Ethan to check on Hank. Which, FYI, good news. He’s debating adopting him once he’s back to full health. ”

I eyed my friend—who I really did trust, but being cheated on once made you suspicious as fuck in every situation no matter the person—and dipped my chin, letting him know he was no longer on my kill list.

For now.