Beard in Hiding (Winston Brothers, #4.5)

by Penny Reid

I wasn’t stalking her. I was following her. From a distance. Making sure she was okay. Keeping eyes on her. Just in case. Not stalking. It’s the same fucking thing, old man.

“Raise your voice until you are heard. Look however you want, be whoever you want, and demand people pay attention to you. Stop taking what you’re given, and demand the space in life you want.” K.F. Breene, Magical Midlife Madness

“Y’all were on his property, dumbass!” Burro banged on the bar top, making everyone jump. “You want to tell us again how he’s after you? Each time y’all drag yourself in here with a broken nose, rib, whatever, courtesy of Billy Winston, it’s because you’re not respecting the truce. You stay away from his sister, you stay away from Scarlet, and you stay away from his land.”

But what makes me so angry I can barely breathe is that I say no, and he doesn’t listen. I say no, and I’m not believed. It makes me want to learn karate or some other martial art so I can kick butt, and I hate it. I don’t want to have to know how to kick butt. I want people to listen to me, to my words, I want them to mean something. Why can’t a woman’s words count for more than a man’s violence?”

Abruptly, big, sturdy fingers reached for mine and my eyes shot up to their owner, my heart leaping to my throat, because for an impossible fraction of a second, I thought my wish had come true. But it was Billy Winston who stood at my shoulder, not Jason. And Hank Weller was walking past him to stand at my other side. The second oldest Winston brother gave me a kind smile and the knots eased, just a bit. My burdens had lessened because this strong, sweet, capable young man was willing to share them temporarily. Just knowing I wasn’t alone, just knowing someone had my back and wouldn’t let me face these demons by myself, made a big difference. And yet, as I turned to face those two demented charlatans again, I couldn’t help the persistent wish that it had been Jason at my side. Not because I didn’t truly appreciate Billy’s gesture, but because Billy wasn’t my person.

Freedom at the direct expense of another person’s wellbeing was the worst kind of evil. It was selfishness masquerading as liberty, hypocrisy wearing the clothes of perseverance and grit. I wanted none of it.