His Wicked Mouth

by Jessica Mills

  Dropping down on to it, I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees so I could dig my fingers into my hair. I sat there like that rocking and worrying over my father as Sawyer opened my phone to make his call.

  I noticed him pause before dialing and looked over at him staring down at the phone and I wondered for a second if he was trying to remember Wade’s phone number. But then he looked over at me.

  “Annabelle? Why did you call Garrett?”

  Oh, no.

  Chapter 23

  Garrett

  The scrapes on my knuckles were already healing as I stared down at them. It never ceased to amaze me how fast cuts on my hands healed up. Years of working on the ranch coupled with years of banging my fists against people’s faces gave me ample opportunity to watch them scar up and heal. That night was going to be no different. Not a whole lot to do but sit around and watch the cuts become scabs.

  I leaned back into the hard concrete wall and shifted on the cold metal bench. It wasn’t an unfamiliar place for me. Hell, jail cell number three was practically a second home for a while there, but the Hayes family had gone through considerable efforts to make it even less comfortable than it had started as. While they were legally required to provide a place to sit, the law said nothing about a blanket or pillow, and if you came in with any kind of jacket, it was usually taken from you. Then they cranked the air up until it was in the low sixties just to see you squirm.

  Thankfully as a rancher, most of us Montgomery boys were used to wearing long sleeves even on the hottest days. Often, Hayes would lock us up, realize the air was really only bothering him, and give up on the temperature-controlled torture. But considering I was still on Las Vegas weather, I was wearing a T-shirt and an undershirt and a jacket, so Roy was all too happy to crank up the air and watch me get upset.

  I refused to give him the satisfaction.

  Goosebumps rose on my arm and I ignored them, opting to focus on the cuts on my hands and the swelling of my lip. This was going to go over so well when I got back home. While my brothers might have been just fine with fighting the Hayes boys normally, me getting into a scrap in the first few nights home was likely to put me on the shit list pretty damn fast.

  Oh well, it wasn’t like I could do anything to change it. I was already there, already bruised up and already waiting on Roy to stop being so damned smug and give me my phone call. It was getting late, and Roy was holding out offering my one call because he knew I would have less chance of getting anyone to pick up the later it got. I could stand there and holler for it, but Roy would just put on his earphones and pretend he couldn’t hear me. As long as I got my call within twelve hours of being there, he could claim innocence, and my guess was he was going to use eleven hours and forty-five of those minutes grinning at me over the magazine he was reading.

  I glanced over at him with hatred deep in my heart. The bastard was looking right at me, the magazine just below eye level and the grin making the lines under his cheekbones rigid and deep. He was absolutely pleased with himself, downright jolly at having a Montgomery boy locked up. At having me locked up. I had barely been home any time at all, and already, Roy Hayes had slapped me in the slammer.

  Ignoring all pretense, Roy tossed the magazine aside and stared at me for a moment before standing and crossing the room to a tiny coffeemaker. The smell of the brew was enticing, and suddenly, I realized how thirsty I was. Not that I was going to say anything to Roy. As he made his way back to his chair, Roy grabbed a donut from a box on the counter and sat heavily, making his chair creak. He munched on the donut and dipped it in the coffee, making exaggerated sounds of pleasure at it.

  As Roy picked through his newspaper, undoubtedly looking for the sports section since I couldn’t imagine Roy Hayes having any interest in current affairs and politics, the door of the station opened. I looked over to see Addison Hayes walking in, looking over at me and ducking her head. I couldn’t quite read the emotion on the girl’s face, but it wasn’t hatred or anger, more like embarrassment. As far as the Hayes went, Addison wasn’t too bad. She stayed out of the fracas with the boys, and we stayed out of her hair. I, however, was known for using her name to get a rise out of Roy a time or twelve. It was an easy button to push.

  Roy dropped his donut onto his newspaper and stood up, meeting her halfway across the room and speaking in a hushed whisper. Whatever they were talking about sounded like a confrontation of some sort, and I edged a little closer to the bars to eavesdrop. Maybe I could hear some juicy tidbit I could use to antagonize Roy later when I was out.

  Then I heard Cassidy’s name. Not once, not twice, but multiple times. At first, I thought maybe Addison needed a new contact prescription and had just mistaken me for my older brother, but when I heard his name a few more times, I tossed that theory out. Whatever they were talking about it, it involved my brother.

  “Hey,” I said from my cell.

  Roy looked over, but Addison pretended I didn’t exist. She kept her back to me so I couldn’t see her lips moving, but I heard her again say Cassidy’s name.

  “I was talking to you,” I said.

  “Shut your piehole, Montgomery,” Roy shouted.

  “Come make me, big boy,” I said.

  Roy shook his head and turned his attention back to his sister. Their conversation was getting a little animated, and when I heard my brother’s name again, I felt the need to speak up.

  “What are you talking about my brother for?” I asked, standing and putting my hands on the bars.

  Again, Roy turned to me, and Addison tried grabbing him to keep him from stepping toward me, but it didn’t work. Roy took a step closer to my cell, and Addison kept her back turned.

  “I told you to shut your mouth,” Roy said. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

  “If you’re going to keep talking about my brother, it sure as hell is,” I said.

  Roy shook his head again and turned back to his sister. He pointed at me and said something and then I heard Cassidy’s name again.

  “All right, Roy,” I said. “I want my phone call now.” Roy waved me off as if he had better things to do. “You have to give me my call, Roy. It’s the law.” I made sure to emphasize that last bit, just to get under his skin.

  Roy turned to me again, looking flustered and tired on top of the big welt on the side of his eye and the various scrapes from earlier.

  “You’ll get your damn call, Garrett, when I am done speaking with my sister. Or maybe you’d like me to ignore you for the rest of the night and give you your call in the middle of the night?”

  I kept my mouth shut. He had promised my phone call when he was done with Addison, and while I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, I figured he was too distracted to not follow through.

  Addison turned on her heel and walked away a few moments later, and I watched her go. Roy also stood, seeming somewhat angry at her and then turned to me, stalking to the bars. I stepped back in a show of goodwill, rather than staying where I was and giving the mild threat that I could reach through and yank his stupid face into the metal a few dozen times.

  “About time,” I said as he unlocked the cell door.

  He didn’t respond outside of a low growl and walked away, heading toward the phones along the wall. I followed him out and grabbed the first phone.

  “You have one call. If they don’t answer, you can try again in an hour. Go ahead.” He sat down in a chair nearby, his eyes trained on me.

  I picked up the receiver of the old phone and dialed the only number I could think of, the only person that I didn’t think I would get an earful from. Or at least as much of an earful as everyone else.

  “Hello?” a groggy-sounding Cassidy answered.

  “Cassidy?” I asked.

  “Garrett?” he responded.

  “Cassidy, I am going to need you not to freak out,” I said.

  “Aww shit,” Cassidy said. “You’re in jail, aren’t you?”

  I sighed. M
y brothers knew me well. For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, I wished that their first instinct when I called them at night wasn’t that I was in jail and needed to be bailed out. Even though that was exactly what was going on.

  “Cass, it’s not quite like that,” I said, trying to defend myself.

  “Are you or are you not calling me from the local jail?” he asked.

  “You looked at the caller ID, didn’t you?” I asked.

  “I have it saved in the phone from the last dozen of times you called me from there,” he said. “What happened?”

  “Roy Hayes happened,” I said. “He pulled me over thinking I was you. Then he opened his jaw and started a fight.”

  “Watch your mouth, Montgomery,” Roy grumbled behind me.

  “Was that Roy?” Cassidy asked.

  “Yeah, he’s sitting behind me while I am talking to you,” I said.

  Cassidy sighed on the other end of the phone. I could imagine him rubbing his temples the way he did when he got stressed.

  “Garrett you’ve been home for like forty-eight hours,” he said.

  “I know,” I said.

  “All right.” He sighed again. “I’ll head up there in a few minutes.”

  “Thanks, Cass,” I said.

  “Wait,” Cassidy said, his voice rising a little. My stomach dropped. I knew what he was about to ask. “Where is my truck?”

  I swallowed hard. This was going to suck. “Well, like I said, he thought I was you because I was driving your truck.”

  “Garrett, where is my truck?” he asked again.

  “He had it towed to the station,” I said. “It also might have a small amount of damage to it.”

  “What kind of damage?” Cassidy asked, his voice muffled a little like he was rubbing his face.

  “Like damage the size of a Hayes body getting thrown into the grille,” I said.

  “I said enough of that,” Roy said from behind me.

  “You used my truck as a weapon?” Cassidy asked.

  “Kinda,” I said.

  There was a moment of silence and then a chuckle on the other end. “Well, all right. Are you okay?”

  “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” I said. That might not have been entirely true. Roy had never tried to literally break my balls before. But I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of me complaining about that and letting him know he got to me.

  “Do I need to take you to a doctor or anything?” Cassidy asked.

  “No, I just want to head home, get an ice pack on my lip, and go to bed,” I said.

  “All right. I’ll be up there in a bit. We will come pick up the truck tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, brother,” I said.

  “Aww, ain’t that sweet?” Roy said from behind me as I hung up the phone. “Degenerate brothers sticking together.”

  I turned around and faced him. He was just feet from me, standing and eyeballing me like he was waiting on me to start another rumble. If I did, I could kiss getting out of there that night goodbye. He would use that and the video footage in the jail to lock me up for a long time. Instead, I headed back to my cell, shutting the door myself, and lay down on the bench to wait.

  Chapter 24

  Annabelle

  I stared at Sawyer, my brain churning at double time. There he stood, my best friend. The person I trusted more than anybody else in the world, and who trusted me. We had seen each other through everything in our lives and I never once doubted my loyalty to him or his loyalty to me.

  Which was why I couldn’t figure out why absolutely no words were coming to my brain.

  This was an important moment in our friendship. It was that fork in the road where I had to decide if I was going to look at Sawyer and see him as my best friend who I could open up to about anything and be fully honest with him. Or if I was going to see him as Garrett’s little brother who I didn’t want to upset or offend. There were so many overlaps in both of those definitions of him and so many potential reactions.

  If I was completely honest with him and told him everything, he could be furious. He could be uncomfortable and angry at both of us. That could mean losing my friendship with him or at least having it be strained.

  On the other hand, if I didn’t tell him what was going on, I was just setting myself up to have to tell him later. Something was happening between Garrett and me, something I didn’t want to stop or deny. If I didn’t tell Sawyer now, I would have to tell him in the future. I would have to open up to him and let him know, and he would wonder why it happened so suddenly.

  It would just be a lie on top of a lie on top of a lie. I didn’t want to do that. Not to Sawyer and not to Garrett.

  Taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked the few steps over to my best friend.

  “Sawyer, I have to tell you something,” I said.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I wasn’t surprised when you told me Garrett was back in town, at least not as surprised as I could have been. And that’s because I’m the one who told him he should come back to Green Valley.”

  “What do you mean you told him?” Sawyer asked. “Did he call you?”

  “No,” I said. “Not exactly. Not at all actually.”

  I shifted around uncomfortably. My brain was about to go haywire. It was already doing its best to try to process what was going on with my father and not let me completely go off the deep end. But now it had to deal with this as well.

  “Annabelle, what’s going on?” Sawyer repeated.

  “Did Garrett tell you where he’s been the last several months?” I asked.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “He didn’t tell us much of anything. Just that he traveled around. We didn’t ask. I guess we didn’t think it really mattered. As long as he was back here, that’s what we were going to concentrate on.”

  I nodded. “Well, he was in Las Vegas.”

  Sawyer nodded for a second. Then his eyes widened as realization started to settle in. “You saw him.”

  “Yes,” I said. “When I went to the bachelorette party, we were walking down the street and I saw him. He looked kind of rough. Like he had been in a fight. So, I stopped and talked to him. He was walking by himself and I was worried about him. He told me he had just brawled with a guy in a bar.”

  “Of course, he did,” Sawyer said with a hint of disgust, rolling his eyes. “What else would he be doing in Vegas?” He cringed. “Actually, I don’t want to know what else he was doing in Vegas. So, that’s it? You stopped and talked to him and told him he should come back home because he got in a fight?”

  “Well,” I said. “Not exactly.” It was becoming my go-to response, but at least it was buying me time to figure out what I was going to say next. That was becoming increasingly difficult.

  “What do you mean ‘not exactly’?” he asked.

  “He looked like he was in a really bad way, so I went to his hotel room with him to help him clean up and take care of his wounds. We started catching up and talking about Green Valley and you boys. He ended up asking if I wanted to go to lunch with him the next day. As a thank you for helping him and just so we could kind of catch up some more.”

  “Okay,” Sawyer said as if that wasn’t sounding so bad, but he was bracing himself for more.

  “So, the girls went outlet-mall shopping and I went to lunch with Garrett. We had a really nice time, so he decided to show me some of Vegas during the day. It was a really nice time, and we went to a couple of museums and other spots.”

  “You sound like you’re stalling, Annabelle. Why do I feel like I’m not going to like the rest of what you’re going to tell me?”

  “Because you’re very perceptive and know me well,” I said.

  “How far did it go?” he asked. There was a slight grit to his teeth and more of an edge in his voice, but he was doing a good job holding back his emotions.

  “We spent the night together,” I admitted.

  I felt like there was
probably a better way I could have said that, but I didn’t want to think about it too much and risk not telling him at all. So, I just let it come out and let the words fall where they may. Sawyer drew in a long, sharp breath through his nose. His hands clenched at his sides.

  It was obvious he was pissed. But he was holding on to his anger as best he could, knowing now was not the time to give me any grief. I was already dealing with enough, and if he was to show how he was actually feeling, it might just push me over the edge completely.

  “You need to be careful,” he said finally.

  “What do you mean I need to be careful?” I asked.

  “Garrett isn’t like the rest of us,” he said. “He’s rough around the edges and selfish. All he cares about is himself.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” I said. “That definitely wasn’t the Garrett I spent time with in Vegas. Or who I had dinner with here in Green Valley the other night. He’s changed.”

  My best friend shook his head. He wasn’t convinced. But he also wasn’t going to argue with me. Not right then. He stayed with me, talking about the dude-ranch experience and anything else he could come up with to detour the conversation away from both Garrett and what was going on with my father. We had been standing outside for what felt like forever but was probably closer to two hours when the sliding glass doors opened and the doctor came out toward me. It was getting rather dark, but the lights outside were bright.

  I braced myself and walked toward him, meeting him a few feet away. “How is he?” I asked.

  “He’s awake. You can go see him.”

  Relief rushed through me. It wasn’t exactly a resounding endorsement of his health. In fact, he hadn’t given me any details at all. He had just said he was awake. But at that point, it was enough. The news could have been much worse. I would happily accept that he was awake and I could see him.

  Sawyer came with me as we followed the doctor into the hospital and down the hall into the room where they had transferred my father. He lay there looking exhausted and drawn but in good spirits. He offered me a smile and I crossed the room to kiss him on his cheek.