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And it hurt her. She knew how such episodes ended. The blistering heat of the female cries as the
August brothers joined in an orgy of sexual intensity with them. Though Sam didn t seem to be taking
part as often as he had in the past, she knew he had at least taken part in that damned limo. The danger
surrounding them only increased the edge of lust that glittered in the men s eyes on a constant basis.
They were highly sexed, and more than a little dominate. And though Sam seemed more playful than
forceful, she could see the core of that dark sexuality becoming more apparent. The closer the danger
came, the more that edge seemed to intensify.
The stalker shadowing their every move was getting closer. Several attempts had been made to breach
the house. Each one had gone unnoticed by any of the investigators until long after it had been too late to
catch sight of him. The bastard knew the ranch too well to suit any of them.
She clicked the link back to the open channel, listening with only distant attention to the chatter between
the investigators as she unsaddled her horse and led him back to the stall. She stroked the animal s long
face, staring into the quiet brown eyes as sadness filled her.
He s getting worse. Brock stepped into the stables, his eyes so like Sam s, were quiet, sad, as
Heather clipped the stall door closed and turned to him.
Heather watched as he moved deeper into the cool, shadowed interior. He watched her closely, his eyes
contemplative, the way he held his body suggesting that he was a man on a mission that he wasn t entirely
certain of.
We can t allow him to go riding off by himself, Brock. Heather shook her head, knowing Sam needed
the solitude of the open land to help still the demons raging inside him. A solitude that could be fatal now.
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She remembered before, when they were called out the first time to protect Marly. Sam had often
slipped from the house, hiking or riding several miles away to a sheltering, tree-shaded pond where he
would often sit and just stare into the water. He hadn t been able to do that lately, and being confined
seemed to only spur his temper.
I agree with you on that, Heather, he sighed roughly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans as
he watched her with a questioning expression. I m not asking anyone to allow it.
He looked too much like Sam to suit her. The sharp, almost savage planes of his face reflected a quiet
acceptance of the world though, rather than the careful joviality or alternate enraged grief that Sam s
could. Of all the men, Brock seemed more accepting of the past, more accepting of who they all were.
She wished she could find a measure of the confidence he carried on his shoulders. At the moment she
felt lost, uncertain. She was fighting not just for her life, but for the life of a man that didn t want to love
her, even though he did.
What? Heather asked with a frown. Brock obviously had something on his mind, and yet was hesitant
to broach the subject, whatever it might be. She had a feeling she didn t exactly want to hear it either.
Why hasn t he come to you yet? he asked her softly, his head tilting as he regarded her with a quizzical
expression.
For what? She had a feeling she knew exactlyfor what, but she wasn t about to let this man poke his
nose in her business without a fight.
He seemed to know that, too. He watched her knowingly. You know what, he growled. He wants to
fuck you so bad it heats the air around both of you, Heather. Don t pretend you don t know that.
Heather felt a curious flutter of nerves in the pit of her stomach. There was no heavy lust in his eyes as
there was in Sam s, but there was a sense of anticipation, of waiting. He was asking about Sam, but they
were both well aware of what they all expected once Sam took her.
That s none of your business, Brock. She shook her head. She didn t need the other two brothers
complicating her life at this point. Her life, or her heart.
He blew out a rough breath, his head turning as he stared into the shadows of the stables. His arms
crossed over his chest, his hard body stiffly erect, as he seemed to be weighing what he should say. His
expression was brooding, concerned, as he seemed to chose his words carefully.
It concerns us all, Heather, he finally said softly. Not just me and Cade, but Marly and Sarah as well.
We all love him. Seeing him like this is& He paused reluctantly. It s very hard on us all.
She could see that. Had seen it constantly. The relationship between the men was a curious one. A
complete sharing, whether it was work, play or pleasure. Yet never together. For a while, she had
wondered if the strange relationship they shared with their women was due to tendencies or desires to be
with each other sexually. But as she watched, dissecting events and interactions, she knew that wasn t the
case.
Heather believed they would have been inclined to the relationships they now shared. The horrors and
nightmares of the past had forced the need for that closer bond, despite moral convictions. The abuse
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and their fight to survive together had made them closer than even they knew at this point. It was a
closeness that went far beyond any sense of sibling jealousy. It had forced such emotions aside, which
further enabled them to the sexual extremes they now practiced.
And I m supposed to fix this? she asked him finally, exasperated, just a little irritated. Suddenly,
everyone was looking to her to fix the problems this family dealt with. She couldn t see afix in sight
anywhere.
He shifted nervously, spearing her with a look that had her taking a step back. Intense, heated, filled with
conviction.
He loves you, Heather. I know he does. And you know what that implies.
His voice carried a hard, knowing edge. He wasn t about to let her skirt around the involvement with the
family should she accept the relationship with Sam. Damned men. The Augusts had to be the most
contrary, stubborn, hard to get along with males it had ever been her misfortune to meet up with.
So you re what, going to try to get your piece of ass now? she bit out, frowning back at him. These
men tried her patience in more ways than one, but this one, on the heels of his twin, was too much for
even her normally strong nerves.
He grimaced impatiently.
Don t be a fool, Heather, he growled, disgust marking his voice, surprising her by the vehemence in his
tone. This isn t about getting a piece of anything. It s about Sam. It s about stilling the anger growing
inside him before it destroys him.
Dammit, Brock, only Sam can do that. Heather shook her head, surprised, and not for the first time,
over the brothers insistence on stilling Sam s anger, and in the process, the healing. He has a right to be
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