Chapter Ten

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Chapter Ten

Will winced and he backed up a step. Never had he seen a person look more out of control or infuriated. Turner’s dark eyes sparked with rage, his face contorted with the emotion as his lips pulled back.

Will shook when Turner started his way, “I just decorated a bit,” Will squeaked, circling the table to keep it between them.

It was no use. Turner grabbed the end of the table and with a roar that shook the window he tossed it aside, causing the ham and biscuits and everything else that had been on the table to go flying through the air and scatter across the cabin.

Will was terrified. He had known that Turner could be hateful, sullen and brooding but never had his mind let him believe the man might actually do him harm---until now.

Turner grabbed him by his shirt and jerked him forward. Will gagged at the strong odor of whiskey on the man’s breath as it assaulted his nose,

“You had no right!” Turner bellowed.

Will clamped his eyes tightly closed and turned his face away, “I’m s..sorry,” he stammered.

“I gave you his coat! His boots! His gloves! That wasn’t enough for you?! You had no right!”

Will had no idea who Turner was referring to. His mind raced as he wondered if tonight was the night he was going to die. Turner shoved him hard and Will’s legs tangled up on a chair before he fell backward. The air rushed from his lungs as his back collided roughly with the wood planked floor.

Turner came for him. There was nothing good in the man’s eyes at that moment. He looked murderous and his gaze was locked on Will.

Will scooted backward but it was no use. Turner descended on him. Will found himself dragged up by his shirt. Turner’s big hand closed around his upper arm and Will bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain.

He swung his free hand, intent on punching the jackass for manhandling him. His fist connected with Turner’s jaw but if the man felt it he gave no indication.

Turner dragged Will to the door, “What are you doing?” Will demanded, attempting to dig his boots into the floor. Turner simply jerked him harder, his calloused fingers digging into Will’s upper arm.

“You’re leaving!” Turner growled viciously.

“Leaving?” Will demanded. “It’s freezing cold outside, it’s dark and there’s three feet of snow! You can’t throw me out there!”

“I can do whatever I damn well please! This is my cabin! Mine!” Turner flung open the door.

Will closed his eyes and winced when the frigid wind blew against his back. Beaux growled and dashed forward. He grabbed Turner’s pants leg in his teeth and tugged. Turner shook the dog off and kicked him hard.

Beaux yelped in pain as he slinked back and Turner glared down at Will, “You’re not him!”

Before Will could ask who he was, Turner tossed him out the door and slammed it closed in his face. Will beat at the door, begging to be let back in, apologizing for whatever it was he had done wrong but it was to no avail.

Will shivered and wrapped his arms as tightly around himself as he could. The weather was intense and biting cold as the wind pounded against his thin clothes mercilessly.

Will looked out at the snow covered night with desperation. Turner wasn’t going to let him in.

The back door!

Will ran around the house, staying on the path that Turner had shoveled but when he tried to open the back door, his heart sank as he realized it too was locked.

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