The sound of Gonzalo's roar sent a violent jolt of adrenaline straight into Delois's bloodstream. Her heart seized.

She shoved the heavy quilt off her legs. Her bare feet hit the cold wooden floorboards. The room spun wildly, but she ignored the nausea and threw her weight toward the bedroom door.

She yanked the brass handle and stumbled into the hallway.

Gonzalo was standing at the top of the stairs. His face was flushed dark red with pure rage. In his massive hands, he gripped the cold steel of his double-barreled shotgun.

Beside him, Connie was furiously shoving heavy brass shells into the pockets of his denim jacket. The other three brothers crowded the narrow space, Ean gripping a heavy iron pitchfork, while the youngest twins, Leo and Luke, stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their fists clenched, their jaws set in murderous lines.

Blanca had rushed out behind Delois. She threw her arms wide, trying to physically block her massive sons from going down the stairs. The men simply pressed forward, their combined weight forcing Blanca to step back.

Delois gripped the wooden doorframe to keep from collapsing. She forced air into her burning lungs.

"Stop!" Delois screamed, her voice cracking with desperation.

Every man in the hallway froze. Five pairs of eyes snapped toward her pale, sweating face.

Gonzalo's grip on the shotgun loosened slightly. A flash of deep pain crossed his eyes when he saw how weak she looked. But the anger quickly swallowed it.

"Get back in bed, Delois," Gonzalo growled, his teeth grinding together. "I'm going to break both of Bart Hawkins's legs."

Delois pushed off the doorframe. She stumbled forward and grabbed Gonzalo's thick forearm. Her fingers dug into his flannel shirt.

"He didn't push me!" Delois yelled, her chest heaving. "Bart didn't push me into the river!"

The brothers exchanged confused, doubtful glances. Connie shook his head.

"You hit your head hard, Del," Connie said gently. "You don't know what you're saying. Ann saw him do it."

Gonzalo gently but firmly peeled Delois's trembling fingers off his arm. He stepped around Blanca and started stomping down the wooden stairs.

Panic clawed at Delois's throat. If they attacked Bart now, the blood feud would escalate. It would trigger the exact chain of events that ended with Gonzalo in handcuffs and Connie dead on the asphalt.

She ignored the blinding pain in her skull. She lunged forward and wrapped both her arms tightly around Gonzalo's waist from behind.

Gonzalo stopped dead on the steps. He didn't dare move forward and risk dragging her down with him.

Delois pressed her face against his broad back.

"If you walk out that door and touch him," Delois threatened, her voice dropping to a dead, serious whisper, "I will kill myself right now. I swear to God, Gonzalo."

The sheer absolute certainty in her voice sent a chilling silence through the stairwell. The brothers stared at her, completely paralyzed by the threat.

Before anyone could speak, the deafening roar of a failing engine shattered the quiet.

A rusted, beat-up Ford pickup truck skidded onto the gravel just outside the Thornton front yard. The brakes squealed in protest.

The driver's side door was kicked open. Bart stepped out. His face was a mask of cold indifference. In his right hand, he carried a white plastic medical kit. He had driven halfway down the road before the image of Delois's pale, trembling fingers coated in dark red blood overpowered his common sense. He cursed himself for caring about a Thornton, but he couldn't just leave her bleeding from a head wound.

Gonzalo looked through the hallway window. He saw Bart standing on their property. The hesitation vanished. The rage exploded.

Gonzalo ripped himself free from Delois's grip. He dropped the shotgun on the floor and charged down the rest of the stairs like a runaway freight train. He burst through the front door.

Connie was right on his heels.

Delois let out a terrified scream and sprinted after them, her bare feet slapping against the wood.

Out in the muddy front yard, Gonzalo used his sprinting momentum to throw a devastating right hook aimed directly at Bart's jaw.

Bart's reflexes were terrifyingly fast. He jerked his head to the side. The fist grazed his ear. The medical kit slipped from his fingers, crashing to the ground and spilling white gauze rolls into the mud.

Connie tackled Bart from the left side. The three large men crashed into the wet, slippery grass, a tangle of swinging fists and grunts.

Bart was strong, but he was outnumbered. Gonzalo's heavy boot connected solidly with Bart's stomach. Bart let out a sharp grunt of pain and stumbled backward, his guard dropping for a split second.

Gonzalo pulled his arm back for a finishing blow to Bart's face.

Delois didn't think. She threw her body directly into the center of the violence. She spread her arms wide, shielding Bart's chest with her own back.

Gonzalo's eyes widened in horror. He tried to pull the punch, but the momentum was already carrying his heavy fist straight toward Delois's face.

In a fraction of a second, Bart's large hand shot out. He grabbed Delois roughly by the waist and yanked her hard against his chest.

Bart spun them around, using his own broad back as a human shield.

Gonzalo's fist slammed heavily into Bart's shoulder blade. The massive impact knocked Bart off balance. His boots slipped in the slick mud.

They fell backward. Delois crashed down right on top of Bart's solid chest. The sudden, violent stop snapped her head forward.

Her lips smashed directly, perfectly, against Bart's mouth.

The impact knocked the breath out of Delois.

For one agonizingly long second, the world stopped spinning. She felt the rough, chapped texture of Bart's lips against hers. She felt the rapid, heavy thud of his heart hammering directly beneath her ribs. His breath was hot and tasted faintly of mint.

The shock sent a violent jolt of electricity down her spine. She scrambled backward, her hands pressing into the wet mud to push herself off his chest. Her face burned with a sudden, furious heat.

Bart rolled up to a sitting position instantly. He turned his head sharply away from her. The tips of his ears were dark red.

He raised the back of his hand and wiped it roughly across his mouth, pressing hard enough to leave a red mark on his own skin. He kept his eyes fixed on the grass, his jaw muscles jumping.

As Delois pushed herself up to her knees, the sudden movement snagged the thin cord around her neck. The old, braided string of her grandmother's amulet snapped.

The heavy wooden pendant slid off her skin and dropped silently into the tall, muddy weeds. Neither of them noticed.

Gonzalo stood over them, his chest heaving. The shock of almost hitting his sister had morphed back into pure fury. He took a step forward, his fists clenching again.

"I'm going to tear him apart!" Gonzalo roared.

Delois threw her arms out again, staying on her knees between Bart and her brother.

"I said stop!" Delois screamed, her voice tearing at her throat. "He didn't push me! I slipped! Bart jumped in and pulled me out of the water! He saved my life!"

She spat the words out as fast as she could, her chest heaving.

Gonzalo froze. Connie, who was picking himself up from the mud, stopped moving. The brothers stared at her, their angry faces twisting into expressions of deep confusion.

The heavy silence in the yard was stretched thin, but underneath it, a strange rustling echoed from the dense tree line bordering the property. The sound of snapping twigs and heavy, hurried movement went completely unnoticed by the arguing men. Suddenly, the tension was broken by a sharp, violent cracking sound coming from the dense tree line bordering the property.

Everyone turned their heads.

A massive wild boar burst through the thick bushes. Its coarse black hair was covered in dirt. Its small eyes were wide and panicked. Two sharp, yellowed tusks curved out from its snout. It was breathing heavily, snorting loud, aggressive breaths.

The beast locked its eyes on the group of humans. It lowered its head and charged.

The trajectory was a straight line directly toward Delois, who was still kneeling in the grass.

Delois stared at the approaching tusks. Pure, paralyzing terror flooded her veins. Her legs turned to lead. She couldn't command her muscles to stand up.

The boar closed the distance in seconds.

Just as the beast was about to ram into her ribs, a large, calloused hand clamped down on her upper arm with bone-crushing force.

Bart gritted his teeth. The veins in his neck bulged as he violently yanked her backward and shoved her behind his own body.

The boar blew past them. The foul smell of wet animal hair washed over Delois's face.

The beast missed them by inches and slammed headfirst into the old wooden fence bordering the yard.

The impact sounded like a gunshot. The rotting wood splintered and collapsed in a cloud of dust and debris. The boar shook its massive head, dazed by the collision. It let out a confused squeal, turned clumsily, and limped back into the safety of the trees.

The entire sequence lasted less than five seconds.

The yard was dead silent, save for the sound of harsh, ragged breathing.

Bart was still gripping Delois's arm. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He looked down at her. His dark eyes were wide, stripped of their usual mockery, revealing a raw, unfiltered panic that he had almost lost her.

Delois looked up at the sharp angle of his jaw. Her own heart was beating so fast it felt like a hummingbird trapped in her throat.

Before either of them could speak, the screech of tires ripped through the air.

A polished sedan slammed to a halt right behind Bart's rusted pickup. The driver's door flew open.

Jessi Hawkins stepped out. Her high heels sank slightly into the dirt. Her perfectly styled hair bounced as she marched furiously toward the yard.

Jessi's eyes locked onto her son. She saw him covered in mud, standing in enemy territory, his hand wrapped tightly around Delois Thornton's arm.

Jessi's face twisted in pure disgust. She marched right up to them, raised her hands, and shoved Delois hard in the chest.

Delois stumbled backward, breaking Bart's grip.

"Get your hands off my son, you shameless little tramp!" Jessi shrieked, her voice echoing down the street. "Haven't you caused enough trouble trying to hook a city boy? Now you're throwing yourself at Bart?"

The screen door of the Thornton house slammed open with the force of a gunshot.

Blanca charged down the wooden porch steps. She still held a greasy metal spatula tightly in her right fist. She moved with the terrifying speed and aggression of a mother bear protecting her cub.

Blanca grabbed Delois by the shoulders and yanked her backward, placing her own sturdy body firmly between her daughter and Jessi Hawkins.

Blanca raised the spatula, pointing the metal edge directly at the tip of Jessi's nose. Her chest heaved with fury.

"Shut your filthy mouth, Jessi!" Blanca yelled, her voice vibrating with raw anger. "Don't you dare come onto my property and put your hands on my daughter!"

Jessi didn't flinch. She straightened her spine, pushing her chest out. She looked Blanca up and down with an expression of absolute contempt.

"Your daughter is a joke, Blanca," Jessi sneered, her voice dripping with venom. "The whole town knows she threw herself in the river because that city boy wouldn't look twice at her. And now she's trying to drag my son down into the mud with her."

Blanca let out a sharp, bitter laugh. Her grip on the spatula tightened until her knuckles turned stark white.

"Your son?" Blanca mocked loudly. "Your son is a violent street thug who does nothing but get into bar fights! He's the one trespassing on my land!"

The sheer volume of their screaming acted like a siren. Across the street, curtains twitched. Front doors creaked open. Neighbors stepped out onto their porches, crossing their arms, their eyes wide with eager anticipation.

Jessi noticed the audience. Her face flushed a deep, angry red. Her perfectly manicured fingers curled into tight fists. She decided to go for the throat.

"At least my son isn't a product of a manipulative, desperate family!" Jessi screamed, making sure every person in the crowd heard her. "We all know exactly what kind of blood runs in your veins, Blanca! You've been using dirty, underhanded tricks since we were girls, and now you're teaching your daughter to do the exact same thing!"

A collective, low gasp rippled through the watching neighbors. The older residents leaned in, their eyes gleaming at the mention of the decades-old scandal.

Blanca's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. A cold, cruel smile spread across her lips.

"Underhanded tricks?" Blanca laughed, the sound harsh and grating. "You're just projecting your own pathetic history onto my daughter! You couldn't trap the man you wanted back then, so you settled for whoever could buy you those cheap pearls around your neck! Don't you stand there and act like a victim, Jessi! You're nothing but a bitter, jealous woman who can't stand the sight of us!"

Jessi's face drained of color, then rapidly flooded with a dark, mottled purple. She let out an incoherent shriek of pure rage.

The argument completely derailed. The two women began hurling decades of buried resentment, jealousy, and ugly secrets at each other like verbal grenades.

Behind Blanca, Gonzalo and the brothers stood like a wall of muscle. They couldn't jump into a fight between older women, but they glared at Jessi, their bodies tense and ready to intervene.

Bart stood beside his mother. His face was a mask of dark, thunderous anger. His jaw was locked so tight a muscle ticked violently in his cheek. He stared at the ground, his chest tight with a suffocating sense of humiliation.

He reached out and grabbed Jessi's elbow, his grip firm.

"Mom. Stop. Let's go," Bart ordered, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

Jessi violently jerked her arm out of his grasp. "Don't tell me what to do!" she snapped at him, before turning back to hurl another insult at Blanca.

Delois stood trapped behind her mother. The screaming voices pounded against her eardrums. The adrenaline from the boar attack was fading, leaving behind a sickening wave of dizziness.

The dull ache in the back of her head suddenly flared into a blinding, stabbing agony. The world tilted on its axis.

She watched her mother drop the spatula. She saw Jessi drop her expensive leather purse. Both women raised their hands, their fingers curling into claws, ready to physically tear each other's hair out.

If they fought, the blood feud would be sealed forever. The town would never let them forget it.

Delois knew she had to stop it. She closed her eyes, took a shallow breath, and decided to fake a fainting spell to break the tension.

She let her knees buckle. She allowed her body to go limp, falling backward.

But her spatial awareness was completely ruined by the concussion. She misjudged her position.

Instead of landing on the soft grass, her heel caught the edge of the bottom wooden porch step.

Her body twisted violently out of control. Gravity ripped her downward.