Chapter 9: Étienne - Crushing His Mountain Flower

I strode into the tavern room at the Distant Whistler, trying to put the disquieting encounter with my wife out of my head.

This was the closest a meeting-place could get to neutral ground between the Bastides and the Pinoteaux, a lone outpost on a craggy ridge right on the border between our lands, open to the elements on both sides to make sure no one could get trapped here.

It was still dangerous.

But I was sick of wondering who was plotting against me. Sick of waiting for them to strike.

And if Réjean and Léonie’s father Yves had intended this to be a trap, they would find I’d had men scattered about the few houses here on the ridge since last night.

2, 4, 6 of their trucks. Exactly the number we had agreed on.

But that didn’t mean they would play fair, and I knew it.

My fingers tightened on the vial around my neck. It had everything in it that had fueled my vengeance for years.

A few drops of my grandfather’s blood. Saved as he bled to death on the mountains he loved. Killed by a Pinoteaux.

I was only 16 but I could still remember every sensation of that day. The sick, agonizing feeling of helplessness. The way he had gripped my hand wordlessly, how he had told me to leave him. In case there were others around who would hurt me too.

The way I hadn’t left. Had fought and raged and roared against every moment as he slipped away from me.

They said it was Léonie’s grandfather who did it. And he was dying anyway.

So when I killed him.

It was a death for a death.

The feud should have stopped there. That should have been the end of it. My Da had agreed.

But I knew it wasn’t right. I knew Papé’s blood still called out for justice. I knew Leonie’s grandfather had taken the fall for Réjean.

Because how had her frail, elderly grandfather managed to kill my strong one?

No, I knew Réjean had been the one to kill Papé, had been spotted in the area. He had seen a Bastide by himself and taken the opportunity to cut down a rival from behind.

And he still lived.

But now I had the chance to finally make it right.

Now I had the chance to crush the Pinoteaux and their schemes against me, to destroy Réjean’s plans to expand their borders and enrich their wealth.

And as the Bastides filed in behind me, I felt power flowing through my fingertips. At one point our families had both been nearly equal in power. Not anymore. Through bad business decisions, poor treatment of their workers, and mismanagement, Pinoteaux had been on the downslide for years. The massive influx of cash a few years ago had been the only thing to slow their decline.

In fact, it had dragged out their destruction. . .

The only thing that bothered me, as I felt triumph singing through my veins, was the report that someone had shot at Hugo.

It was possible my brother had enemies, but someone who was bold enough to risk capture by my guards?

My first instinct was that Hugo had been trying to fuck with me, but then Léonie had verified it was true.

Léonie couldn’t lie to me. Ever. My wife was simply not capable of it.

So it must have happened, and I’d need to investigate it. What if she had been accidentally shot in the crossfire?

Once my vengeance was complete, I would figure out who had a grudge against Hugo.

I nodded to Faustine, putting a hand on her lower back to guide her into the tavern, making sure my fingers spanned her bare skin as the ring sparkled on her finger.

The low-roofed room smelled like cigarettes and foul beer and shit in here.

Yves and Réjean and their other kinsmen had arrived before I did, but I didn’t care. Let them think they had the upper hand.

All I cared about was justice for Papé and killing anyone who was a threat to my family. And then his blood would finally rest easily.

I could not lead the Bastides with this insult still unpunished.

Every eye was on me as the Pinoteaux dogs waited for me to guide my mother into a chair behind me.

Then I put Faustine beside me, my fingers sliding lasciviously along her chin as she turned those shining eyes to me.

She was a very beautiful woman, and more than one of Léonie’s kinsmen had asked to pay a bride-price for her.

I sat in the middle chair. Right in front of Yves. Ignoring the amber mug of beer set in front of me.

“I am here for justice,” I said. “I gave you a bride-price based on a faithful, virtuous wife. Now that I have caught her in bed with my brother, I see that was a lie. I demand restitution. Immediately.”

Their faces were blank, but if word got out, dishonor on their house, dishonor on their lands, dishonor on their ancestors and descendants. It risked every business relationship they had ever developed.

“Peace has been good between us,” Yves said, clearing his throat. He was a heavyset man with a red beard streaked with silver. “To keep the peace, we are willing to offer you a significant amount for your compensation.”

I put an arm around the back of Faustine’s chair, my fingers curling over her shoulder, brushing along her skin.

“No,” I said. “As the head of the Bastides, I can’t risk the threat to my status being seen with a whore would be. I want the bride-price back. All of it. You gave me a bad bargain. I’m owed that money.”

“The bride-price is not—available,” Yves said after a moment. “That was a large sum of money.”

The look on Réjean’s face went down like a fine whiskey, inside I feasted on their utter panic and helplessness.

I knew very well what the loss of the bride-price would do to them.

It would reduce the Pinoteaux to abject poverty, and only then when they were reduced to nothing, and their land was taken to make my family wealthy, would I kill at my leisure.

Réjean and Yves glanced at each other, and I felt my body tense, although outwardly I didn’t move a muscle.

“We shouldn’t even be negotiating without your Da here. Unless there’s some reason he couldn’t be here.”

“He’s dead,” I said. “You know that.”

“So many of your family members seem to disappear,” Réjean retorted, his eyes narrowing cunningly at me. “In fact, there was talk of an older brother who hasn’t been seen in a while. . .”

There was a movement behind me—a gasp—an uneasy rustling. . .

But I didn’t move a muscle.

“Dig up the Bastide graveyard, see if you can find some corpses to fight then,” I shrugged. “Perhaps that is the only way to beat us.”

But something indefinable had changed in the room. I could feel my muscles, coiling in readiness.

“Rumor has it that paternity test you’ve been passing around is faked,” Yves said, his face expressionless.

Inside, my heart began to pound harder.

But I had prepared for skepticism, and I only laughed, shoving the papers across the desk at them.

“Unfortunately not. Bring the doctor in, if you don’t believe me. He’ll verify what I say.”

“I know what the papers say, son."

“I caught her in person. I saw her with my own two eyes. There is no question of her infidelity.”

“I haven’t spread your family shame yet because I respect our relationship too much. But it could make things very difficult for your suppliers if word got out.”

“You say she was caught with your own brother,” Réjean said. “That would shame you as well. It is in all of our best interests to keep this quiet.”

I shrugged. “It does not matter who an unfaithful wife whores around with. It still a shame on her family.”

“Yet, you didn’t throw her out,” Yves said. “Why?”

I snorted, resting my hands on the table between us. Casual. Relaxed.

“Of course I did. I wouldn’t keep a whorish wife in the house.”

“So where is she?”

“That’s my business, isn’t it? I bought her from you, I paid the bride-price for her. She’s mine until you give me the money back.”

Réjean shifted in his seat.

That’s right. Squirm, fucker.

“You're well within your rights to turn her out of the house and onto the back of the mountain. How have you not done that yet? Is it possible you yourself do not believe the paternity test?”

I scoffed. “Why would I even risk an unfaithful wife? You really think I don’t have plenty of women who could take her place?”

Jerking my head sideways, I put my hand on Faustine’s thigh, her miniskirt inching up and bunching around her hips as I spread my grip out possessively.

My fingers dug in as Yves bent forward.

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This fucker had to give in. He had no proof the test was tampered with. He would have to give in and agree to return the bride-price that was the only thing keeping their miserable family afloat.

But he didn’t.

“I think you’re full of bullshit, Étienne. I don’t think you have a shortage of women. I know you could fuck any woman this side of the mountain if you wanted. That’s always been true. But I think despite all the bullshit you’ve been spewing for weeks, you are in fact very attached to your wife and child.”

Everything seemed to freeze inside me, and I had to fight the urge to curl my fingers against the table, to make any outward sign that his words had affected me.

“Attached to a whore? You’re a fool. I wouldn’t forgive that.”

But Yves shook his head.

"You see, I only let you marry the girl I knew for sure was head-over-heels in love with you. You think I’d risk sending a woman who didn’t love you, knowing the power you held over us with this bride-price? I’m going to call your bluff. I think you have no intention of casting aside your wife. Or of abandoning your child.”

“That’s not my child. I don’t care what happens to it.”

Yves leaned forward.

“I think when this damn bastard child comes out, it’s going to have hair black as night.”

“Have you ever known me to be fucking soft?” I snapped as hairs raised on my back of my neck. “I’m not raising some other man’s child. Give me what I ask or I will send your daughter out to the back of the mountain.”

But Yves only raised an eyebrow.

“Étienne, I was on the other side of the negotiating table for that bride-price. You didn’t negotiate like Étienne Bastide. You didn’t negotiate like the cruel, bloodthirsty killer I know you are. You negotiated like a man in love. You negotiated soft.”

“Bullshit,” I said coldly. “I care nothing for your daughter.”

But my hands were gripping the table, and I heard rather than saw shifting back and forth.

Men getting ready. Men sensing violence in the air.

“I’ve been fucking every woman’s wet cunt I could find since finding out your daughter is a whore.”

Yves raised an eyebrow.

“Have you?” he said, his voice silky-smooth. “I don’t think you have. I think this is all an act. I think you’ve never had the smallest intention of fucking another woman. I think you’ve been hiding Léonie away somewhere safe until you get what you want from us.”

Anger was curling inside me, building along my spine.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? Then I have another deal for you. 1/4th the bride-price back and we will send someone to take care of the problem for you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean leave the gate open where she’s staying one day and let us do the rest.”

The proposal sat thickly in the air between us, stank and festering.

And I realized I had fucked up.

I had made one fatal mistake.

And it was going to fuck up every plan I had made for taking the Pinoteaux down.

I assumed Léonie‘s father valued his only daughter.

But he’d only cared about the bride-price.

“You’re proposing I sit back and let you kill my wife?” I snarled, feeling the rage rising inside. “Fucking unnatural dogshit family!”

They were trying to stand, hands reaching for their knives, but I was already lunging against the table, lifting it with a screech against the floor and flipping it forward.

Fucking Réjean managed to avoid getting crushed, the table landing on his leg as his men leaped forward to extricate him.

Yves wasn’t so lucky, the heavy wooden table pinning him across the chest.

There was a searing pain in my forearm as some red-headed devil struck me, but my knife was already plunging forward and I heard a crack as Yves’ first rib broke.

I drove his head back against the hard floor as he struggled to free himself.

“Have you already tried to kill Léonie?” I spat on him as someone else came up on my other side.

Jerking my knife back, I struck some goddamn cousin straight in the heart, blood bubbling down his chin as I yanked my weapon back out.

There were arms trying to pull me off, as I dragged the knife down Léonie’s Da’s forehead.

Réjean landed a blow on my jaw, forcing me to get up to avoid another blow landing on my skull. I kicked out sharply at his knee, feeling blood run down my arm.

“Stay away from Léonie,” I warned him through gritted teeth.

“Why do you care what happens to a woman you called a whore?” he taunted.

I smelled gasoline.

Fuck.

The Pinoteaux couldn’t win in honorable warfare, so one of their fucking lackeys would rather burn down the tavern rather than admit defeat.

“Everyone out,” I roared as I saw liquid splatter against the window.

Glancing back as I guided my mother and Faustine out, I saw Pinoteaux cousins bending over Yves.

Had I killed him?

Fuck. Léonie wasn’t safe at the lodge. I needed to move her location immediately.

The attempt hadn’t been on Hugo at all. Léonie had been the target all along.

Fucking shithell, I had fucked up.

If I moved quickly I could run some of their trucks off the road, isolate each one and kill whoever was in it.

There was no other option now that I knew what they were capable of.

Faustine was still hanging onto me, and I shook her off impatiently as flames began to lick the dry grasses around the tavern.

“Stop fucking breathing on me. I told you never to touch me unless we’re in that negotiation room.”

Her eyes looked wide and hurt.

“But you’re injured! I’m just trying to help.”

“You aren’t,” I bit out.

“But I thought⁠—”

“You thought fucking nothing. Give me that ring. There’s no need for you to wear it anymore.”

She looked down at the sparkling ring and pouted.

“But it looks so pretty on me.”

“I don't fucking care. It’s my wife’s.”

When she moved too slowly, I ripped it off her finger and pointed to the backseat.

“Get your ass back there and attend to my mother.”

“You really think Léonie will forgive you after what you’ve done to her?” Faustine said bitterly.

“Of course,” I snorted. “I know everything there is to know about Léonie. That woman would follow me off a cliff. She might have shown me more mountain temper than I’ve ever seen from her, but she’ll just be grateful when I tell her the truth.”

I hopped in the SUV and spun it around, my eyes zeroing in on the first Pinoteaux truck.

But just as I slammed down on the gas, I got a call from my security chief that I’d sent down to secure the lodge.

“Not right now,” I bit into the phone.

The service was shit, but through the static buzz I could hear crackling in the background.

“Étienne, you need to get down here immediately. Something bad has happened.”