Austen, and immediately moved to intercept his unwelcome guest.
She turned in her seat but did as he said as he stalked to the front door. Greg was already on his way up the steps, but stopped when Wyatt came through the door. “What the hell are you doing here?” Wyatt demanded.
Greg had paused on the lower step but now he advanced, not stopping until he was face-to-face with Wyatt, only a few feet separating them. The former sheriff’s body was as tight as his expression, blue eyes narrowed in a menacing glare as he thrust an accusatory finger at Wyatt. “You stay the hell away from my wife.”
Huh? “She’s not your wife anymore,” he said quietly, barring Greg’s way to the door. This confrontation was a long time coming and Wyatt wasn’t about to back down from this pathetic asshole, even if he was sorry Austen had to witness it.
Greg paled at the verbal punch, then a flush of anger suffused his cheeks. Guy looked like shit, all rumpled and bleary-eyed, and Wyatt could smell the booze on him. “Yes, she is, and if you would stay the fuck out of it, she’d come back to me.”
Aware that Austen was inside and could hear every word, Wyatt held back what he really wanted to say. “You’re drunk, Greg, and probably high. There’s nothing going on between Piper and me. You shouldn’t be driving, but just go home.”
“Fuck you,” Greg spat, his face contorting with rage. “Fuck you and your high-and-mighty, holier-than-thou Colebrook attitude. It’s your fault this happened. She never would have left me if it wasn’t for you.” His lips twisted into a sneer that only made him uglier. “Every damn time something went wrong, I had to hear about how I didn’t measure up, how I would never compare to you. I’ve spent my entire life living in your shadow, and I’ll be damned if I’ll lose my wife over you.”
Wyatt barely resisted the urge to scrub a hand over his face. Whatever the drugs and alcohol had done to Greg were the least of his worries. The dude had serious mental issues that went way beyond addiction. Piper hadn’t left him because of Wyatt, she’d left him because he treated her like shit and couldn’t stay clean. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but you’ve got five seconds before I make you get back in your car and leave. Go home and sleep it off.”
Greg’s fuse snapped. The man’s dark blue eyes burned with a sudden fury. His face contorted and he reared one arm back. Wyatt shot out a hand to block the punch, catching Greg’s fist and pushing him sideways.
Greg lost his balance, stumbled and caught himself against the railing. “Fuck you!” he snarled, and charged.
Wyatt braced himself, caught Greg’s wrist when he got close enough, and whipped his arm up and behind his back. Grits barked hysterically behind him at the screen door. If it had been Raider, she would have torn through the screen door to get to him, and then torn into Greg.
Greg snarled and tried to whirl but Wyatt had already used the man’s momentum against him, spinning him around and grabbing his other arm, pinning both behind him.
Enraged, Greg thrashed in his hold. “Let me go, you asshole! Let me go and fight me like a man, goddamn it!”
Wyatt was aware of Austen pushing her way through the screen door. “No,” he told her sharply, struggling to hold Greg in place. He didn’t want her getting hurt because of this drunken prick.
He was saved from asking her to call the cops by running footsteps coming across the gravel driveway. His brother Easton materialized out of the darkness, his expression livid as he ran for Greg.
“What the hell’s going on?” Easton demanded, grabbing Greg’s shoulders and muscling him to the porch floor with Wyatt.
“He’s drunk and came here looking to pick a fight,” Wyatt said, leaning over to hold onto Greg’s wrists in a crushing grip. Not for the first time, he felt awful that Piper had to deal with this sorry son of a bitch on