There was a set of three planters on the property, lovingly taken care of by Nik every evening. Mostly herbs and other medicinal plants, along with a spindly but growing blackberry sprig. It was nowhere near bearing fruit - if it ever would - but Nik watered and cared for it just the same.
It had started as a necessity, really. Before he would have to forage in the wilderness that butted up against the ranch for roots and barks to take the edge off the pain of whippings and beatings. Trying to find the right herbs to soothe a stomach nauseous from bad food (or no food.) But there wasn’t always time after the work was done to go hunting for the right remedy for the anxiety that felt like it was eating away at his bones and sinew. So the next time he found some, Nik replanted and tended to them so they were accessible for him and Hilton. And now Brody, he figured.
Kneeling by the wooden boxes, he picked at the weeds that had sprouted up and let his mind wander. Brody was still adjusting, still trying to come to grips with this new hand he’d been delt. He was still new enough to believe he was going to leave someday. Nik didn’t have the heart to break that fantasy, not yet anyway. And regardless, Brody was already starting to learn how life on the ranch really worked, unlike Hilton who still didn’t act in his own best interests.
That boy was going to give Nik a heart attack someday.
A quiet chitter announced the arrival of the little squirrel Nik had been feeding, climbing up on the boxes to get his attention. And seeds he kept in his pocket. Such a strange one - stark white and not afraid of him in the slightest.
“Hey bud,” he greeted it quietly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out some of the sunflower seeds he’d been able to find. He barely had time to cup his fingers together before the little creature’s paws were cupped around his fingertips, eagerly looking for the treat. Nik smiled at it and used his free hand to stroke the top of its head with his pointer finger.
“Are you watching out for me? I’d sure appreciate it.”
The squirrel paused to look at him for a moment before twitching its nose and scurrying away at the sound of footsteps. Nik was only barely able to bite back the sigh before he stood and turned around.
Mason and Dylan were coming up the trail, never meaning anything good when they were together. Once closer, the boss held up an envelope.
“Got something in the mail today,” he started, dangerously casual. Nik didn’t respond. With a glint in his eye, Mason opened the letter and started to read it aloud.
“Mr. Driver,
I’m writing again in regards to the Kelmar estate and specifically Nikolas Stewart. We’re asking for another attempt at negotiating a deal for the land deed; one with more reasonable expectations.”
Dylan snickered and even Mason cracked a smile, all while Nik’s heart was pounding in his throat.
“There must be some deal we can agree to that promises his safe return. After consideration, we’re offering-” Mason stopped reading, tutting through the rest of the letter. Finally he looked back at Nik and shook his head.
“It really is a damned shame they just don’t seem to get it. I don’t negotiate. I see what I want, and I get it. So, if words don’t work, let's try blood.”
“What?” Nik found himself asking, completely caught off guard by the last statement. Dylan strode forward, smile on his face, and delivered a clean, unrepentant blow to Nik’s nose. Dazed and shocked, Nik stumbled backwards with a cry, hand immediately coming up to guard his now gushing nose. He didn’t move out of Dylan's reach however, and the other man had him by a fistful of a hair a moment later.
The glint of a pocket knife froze Nik in an instant.
A bit gleeful, Dylan sawed away some of the dark brown hair he was holding, cutting off a careless chunk on the side of his head. Without letting go, he turned to Mason and caught a small white cloth thrown to him, using it to dab up some of the blood and tucking the hair inside it.
Nik simply let his eyes close and the revulsion to wash over him. It wasn’t enough they had taken him to make his people give over their land - now they took his blood too. Take, take, take. That was all everyone ever did, all they wanted from him. If it wasn’t his literal body it was his time, and his work, and his mind. When Dylan shoved him away he just felt empty inside. Numb.
“Can, can I at least have the letter?” he asked, aching to hold it. To read the whole thing. Mason shrugged.
“I would have assumed you’d want the one written to you,” he said, reaching into his jacket to retrieve another envelope. He held it up between his two fingers, eyes locked on Nik’s face. Enjoying this. “Written by a Kia, I believe.”
Nik reached for it immediately, wanting before but now desperate. “Yes! Please can I have them? Please?”
Mason looked thoughtful for a moment. “I read it. Don’t think there’s much of importance in there.” He reached into his pocket again, this time retrieving a shiny silver lighter.
“No!” Nik was kept from jumping forward by Dylan, grabbing around his shoulders. “Please, please don’t burn them. I’ll work more, I’ll uh, I’ll do anything for you not to burn those.”
The older man clicked his tongue. “But here’s the thing kid - you already do.”
Nik shrieked when the first flame lick up the side. He struggled and tried to squirm away, but the grip on his arms was bruising. After a few moments, Mason dropped the now engulfed envelope to the ground and clicked is tongue again, signaling Dylan to release him.
Recklessly Nik threw himself forwards, stamping out the fire with his bare hands. He didn’t pay attention to the pain, paid even less to Mason and Dylan leaving. The letter was singed badly, but not completely charred. It mostly was, to his gut wrenching disappointment, but there was still some left. Still some readable.
On his knees in the dirt, with shaking hands, Nik tried to read what was left of his only piece of home.
