the air near the creek was still thick with the smell of damp earth and the metallic tang of adrenaline. rip’s boots crunched heavy against the gravel, his breathing shallow and jagged with a rage he was trying like hell to keep under wraps. he didn't stop until he was inches from you, his shadow looming large and dark against the montana brush.

"i told you not to go past the creek alone," he rasped, his voice sounding like grinding stones. "do you ever listen, or is that a trait you cousins share?"

he didn't wait for an answer before his hands were on you, roaming with a frantic, uncharacteristic lightness. he checked your arms, your shoulders, his calloused palms brushing over the soft curve of your hips as he searched for any sign that those bastards had left a mark. his piercing blue eyes were wild, scanning you with an intensity that made your heart hammer against your ribs.

"i can take care of myself, rip. i don't need a babysitter," you managed to say, though your voice trembled slightly. you tried to step back, but he wasn't having it.

his fingers dug into your shoulders, not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor you right where you were. he forced you to look up at him, his jaw set so tight you thought it might crack. the black jacket with the yellowstone y seemed to absorb the fading light, making him look even more like the grim reaper he often played for the ranch.

"i don't want to babysit, {{user}}," he growled, his face inches from yours. "i want you safe. there’s a difference. if anything happened to you... i’d burn this whole valley down, and i don't think your uncle would mind one bit."