Bronco (EEMC #1) - Bijou Hunter Page 0,81

ruin. Wyatt would kill every problem until we’d be at war on all fronts.

Anders sighs loudly—again. That’s twice since he arrived. He’s acting weird. With his past, I’m wary of him deviating from his normal focused self. I study him, wondering if he’s using again. Or if his head is in the past rather than here with us now.

Before I get a chance to worry about Anders’s mood, I hear Sidonie screaming for me. I book it inside with Rooster close behind. Conor and Wyatt come along too. The other men stay back, sensing this is a family issue.

Bambi stops dicking around in my garden and hurries in the same direction. I spot Barbie in the kitchen, and I have to use all my self-control not to tackle her crazy ass when she shoves Lana against the fridge.

I’m surprised by the sight of Desi huddled in the corner, looking terrified. Sidonie’s panicked tears seem about right. Lana seems too calm. She reveals nothing, even with a screaming Carina wrapped in her arms.

I grab Barbie and get her away from Lana and the baby. She immediately tries to break free of my grip, but I’m not Lana. I won’t stand still while Barbie freaks out on me. I hold her still while reaching over to comfort Sidonie.

Lana’s eyes remain so blank that I’m creeped out. How does she hide like that?

I give our baby a little head rub and then let my fingers linger on Lana before asking, “Can you take the girls upstairs while I sort this out?”

After Lana nods, Desi gets up from the floor and hurries over to her mom. Sidonie thinks she’s getting left behind, but Lana gestures for her to follow. My daughter’s expression pinches my heart. Sidonie’s obsessed with this new family we’re making. I won’t let Barbie ruin that for her or me.

Once Lana and the girls are upstairs, I turn to my sister. She sees my scowl and yanks free of my grip. Noticing eyes on her, Barbie feels judged. Normally, I’d defuse shit, but she’s gone too far today.

“What the fuck was that?” I growl at her.

“She’s running around town with your child without telling you.”

“I knew where they were. If you’d fucking asked, you’d have known too. But then you couldn’t go fucking nuts, now could you?”

Barbie looks around for someone to take her side. Conor doesn’t meet her gaze. He knows more than anyone how his mom isn’t well. Bambi would normally come to her aid, but I’m pissed, and I rarely get truly pissed with them.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” I say in a voice that isn’t nearly as calm as I’m hoping.

“You’re letting her do whatever she wants.”

“You risked my child’s safety,” I growl at Barbie, who’s already convincing herself that she’s the victim here. “Did you even care if Carina got hurt?”

“I didn’t realize the baby was around.”

“Bullshit. You attacked a woman I’m making mine. You’re trying to drive her away. You don’t want me to be happy. You want me to never see my baby. That’s what you want, Barbie. I don’t know if it’s because you’re mental or because you’re a fucking bitch, but that’s what you’re trying to do.”

“Bronco,” Bambi says, finally ready to jump in and make me the bad guy.

“Fuck off,” I snarl at my oldest sister. “What if the baby fell while this dipshit was attacking Lana? Would you still be trying to take her side? What if Lana packed up and returned to Shasta, and I saw my kid once a month? Is that enough for you to care? This shit isn’t personal for you, apparently, Bambi. I know Barbie doesn’t care. But if you two ruin things with Lana for me, I’ll hold a grudge. You’ll be on my shitlist, and you can only get off when I get what I want. So let’s say Lana leaves and never comes back. I guess that would mean you two remain on the shitlist forever, huh?”

“Hey, why am I getting lumped in with her?” Bambi says, looking to Rooster for help.

Exhaling deeply, he shrugs. “I think we need to talk about why Barbie gets in these overly paranoid moods. Bronco is afraid for his kids and his woman. There’s nothing irrational about that. He might be saying some shit you don’t want to hear, but it’s coming from his heart. Instead of pointing fingers, why don’t we figure out a way to help Barbie deal with her

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