by Kennedy Fox
“This looks delicious, Mrs. Jackie,” I tell one of the main cooks.
“Make you a plate when it’s done, darlin’.”
I smile. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” Breakfast at the B&B is so good a group of locals will drop in every once in a while and buy a plate. It’s always a big, extravagant, homemade Southern meal, and I eat here whenever I can. It’s been less frequent lately, though, because I’ve been having breakfast with Kiera or, rather, having Kiera for breakfast. The thought of it has me grinning from ear to ear.
I hear footsteps in the main room and step out and see one of our guests filling a coffee mug full. I hurry and grab the fresh cream and set it out.
“Good mornin’,” I offer.
“Mornin’, John,” the older woman greets.
“Oh, I’m Jackson. The other brother.”
Shaking her head, she chuckles. “Oh, that’s right. I forget there’re two of you. Don’t know how your mama tells you apart.”
I pour myself a cup of coffee and take a sip. “Honestly, there are times when she doesn’t. But don’t tell her that. She swears she knows who is who.” I let out a laugh and greet others as they come downstairs.
Checking the time, I realize Nicole’s late for her shift. Considering she’s been walking on thin ice and believes she can do whatever she wants, I decide to write her up. Yesterday, when John gave me the rundown of everything that needed to be done, he mentioned Nicole has been coming and going as she pleases. He mentioned he’d already given her a warning but told her the next time she’d be written up, and here we are.
Even though we’re a family run business, it’s important that if we decide to fire someone, we have our ducks in a row, especially considering what happened between Nicole and me. As breakfast is being laid out, Nicole walks in without a care in the world. Thankfully, she doesn’t have an attitude, but as soon as she sees me, she makes up some excuse about a flat tire.
“Sorry, John. Shit happens.” She shrugs before she’s interrupted by a guest to help change sheets upstairs. She sets her purse behind the counter and walks away. I’m half tempted to tell her it’s me, but then again, I kinda don’t give two shits. Her attitude and how she doesn’t take this job seriously really pisses me off, especially considering she used to love being here. At this point, it’s personal.
Just as most of our guests sit for breakfast, I open the schedule book and hear Nicole’s phone dinging at an ungodly pitch in her purse. At first, I try to ignore it, but it keeps going off, one text message at a time, which is annoying as hell. Not able to take it anymore, I grab her purse and search for her phone. I wouldn’t normally dig through a woman’s bag like this, but phones are supposed to be on silent for a reason. It’s distracting, and I don’t know where she is to tell her to come turn it off herself. Once I find her cell, I’m just about to click the side button to silence it, and that’s when I notice all the text messages are from the same person—Trent Laken. A lump the size of a basketball forms in my throat, and I can’t seem to swallow it down. Why the fuck is Nicole talking to Dr. Douchebag? I can’t see the full text messages, only previews because her phone is locked, but what I can see is more than unsettling.
Trent: It’s important that everything goes off without any…
Trent: Did you do it yet?
Trent: Let me know so I can make sure there are no…
Trent: The plan is in place.
Trent: Fuck Jackson Bishop. He’ll get what’s coming to him.
Trent: I can’t wait to see the look on her face when…
The last message catches me off guard. They’re planning something, and I need to get to the fucking bottom of it right now. Anger rolls over me in waves, and I’ll be damned if she’s conspiring with Trent against Kiera and me. This is the last straw. I grab her phone and take the stairs two at a time. Nicole is chatting with a guest in the hallway, and as soon as I see her, I grab her arm.
She tries to get loose, but I keep my grip tight, so she doesn’t get away. The fire inside my blood has anger seething out of my ears. I drag her down the stairs and into the office. I shut the door, lock it, and stand in front of it, so there’s no way she’s escaping until this is discussed. Trent can talk about me all he wants, but to even insinuate anything about Kiera is too fucking far.
“What the fuck, John?” she asks, glaring at me.
“I’m not John,” I tell her between gritted teeth and watch her face transform from annoyance to anger. She’s pissed.
Good. Now we’re on the same page.
“What the hell do you want, Jackson?”
“I want a goddamn explanation, Nicole.” I pull her phone from my back pocket and hold it in front of her face. She sees the text messages from Trent, and I watch as her expression is replaced with defeat or maybe even regret. She knows she’s fucking busted, and I won’t open this door until I find out what’s going on.
“I don’t have all day.” I hand her phone over.
She looks down at the text messages, then opens her mouth and closes it. She’s got nothing because I’ve literally backed her into a corner.
Another moment passes and tears begin to stream down her face before she starts hyperventilating. “I’m so scared, Jackson.”
I try to understand what the fuck she’s talking about because she’s not making any sense.
“Trent.” She sobs. “He’s lost his damn mind.”
With my back firmly pressed against the door, I stand there and watch her cry uncontrollably. “I could’ve told you that.”
“I’m afraid for my life. After he caught the barn on fire—”
“What?” I search her face. “Trent caught our barn on fire?”
She nods. “Yes. Before that, when he was still with Kiera, I saw him in the grocery store, and we chatted. He told me if I could tell him when Kiera was with you, he’d pay me a few hundred dollars each time.”
My mouth falls open. “You didn’t.”
She covers her face with her hands. “He manipulated me, Jackson. He made me believe he just wanted to surprise Kiera. After the two of you got into that fist fight, he basically threatened me and told me if I mentioned this to anyone, he’d track me down and end me.”
“You have to go to the police, Nicole. You’re the only person who can end this. Seriously.”
“And now…”
I wait with bated breath for her next words.
“And now he’s going to hurt Kiera. He hasn’t gotten over it. I’ve tried to stop him. I’ve tried to lead him on, making up stories about how she’s no longer coming around the property anymore.”
My heart is pounding hard in my chest. “His text message said he couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when…what? When he does what?”
Nicole swallows. “She’s planning to pick up a horse tomorrow, and when she does, he’s going to be there and follow her. I don’t know what his plans are after that. Possible kidnapping? He mentioned taking her away.”
I instantly text Kiera.
Jackson: Please come home now. Trent has lost his mind. I think you’re in danger.
When she doesn’t text back, I call her. When she doesn’t answer, I begin to think the worst. I know I’m supposed to be watching the B&B, but I can’t stay here when Trent is acting this way. I call Kiera two more times and leave panicked voicemails. Nicole just sits there and watches me.
The next phone call is to the police. I punch in 9-1-1 and am instantly connected. Nicole looks alarmed, which doesn’t make me feel good at all about this situation.
“What are you doin’?” she asks, smearing the runny mascara on her cheeks even more.
“I’m getting the police involved right now.”
Nicole stands up and grabs on to my arm, trying to take my phone. “No, please. He’ll kill me, Jackson. He’s already threatened me. Do you know why I was late this morning?”
I look at her. This is all happening too fast, and I’m going into panic mode. I’m wasting t
oo much time already.
“Because I was worried that Trent was stalking me, and I was scared to leave until the sun came up.”
“And this is why they need to be involved, Nicole. You need to be truthful and tell them what’s going on or I will. You’re in danger. Kiera is in danger. And apparently, I’ve been threatened too. I’m not playing these fucked-up games.”
I open the door and walk out of the office. I feel as if I can’t breathe as I explain to the operator what Nicole told me. The fact that Trent is capable of arson shocks the shit out of me. I know he’s crazy and fucked up, but I didn’t realize how deep his hatred for me really ran. Now that Kiera and I are together, and are open about it, I feel as the fuse to destruction has been lit.
“I need an officer to meet me down at my girlfriend’s property right now. Her life’s in danger, and I can’t get ahold of her.” I hurry and spit off her address as I head to the back door.
“That’s not needed, Jackson!” Nicole begs. “It’s supposed to happen tomorrow!”
I look at her and shake my head. I walk outside, send a quick text to Colton to watch the B&B, and sprint to my truck. Nicole continues to follow close behind me.
“Please!” she begs, and I can hear the hysteria in her voice, which only unsettles me more.
She continues crying and yelling, making a scene, trying to stop me, and I know leaving is the right thing to do. By the time I make it to my truck, she’s still behind me. She completely breaks down as she forces herself in front of me, her last effort to make me stay, but it’s no use. “Please, Jackson.”
“Why are you trying to stop me, Nicole? Sorry, but I don’t trust your ass as far as I can throw you. You need to get the fuck out of my way.”
She steps aside, realizing her words are falling on deaf ears.
I shake my head and open the door. “This shit ends now. I have to know Kiera is okay.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kiera
Fuck, it’s a cold one today. To make matters worse, Alexis texted me this morning and said she’s too sick to come in. I’d been working her a lot lately, so I can’t even be mad about her needing a day off.
“Hey, Champs,” I say, rubbing my bare hand up his dark nose. He grunts in response, and I smile. “Ready for your breakfast?”
I’ve boarded six additional horses in the past two weeks and enjoy taking care of them during the winter months. Most of them I trained and are sweethearts, so they aren’t much extra work for me. It makes me think of the possibility of building a larger barn on the Bishop property near our house. It’d be a dream to build something that’s ours, something we can both work in and be proud of. I’d love to have a dozen extra stalls and a bigger tack room for my saddles and accessories.
I sigh. Hopefully someday.
At the rate Jackson and I are moving, I have a feeling that day is sooner than not.
I smile when I think of him and how much has changed in such a short amount of time. I don’t regret it at all, knowing that everything lined up and happened the way it was meant to. However, a small part still wishes we hadn’t wasted all these years fighting it.
But that’s all in the past now. I only care about our future and being happy for the rest of our lives.
I’m lost in my thoughts as I fill the water buckets outside. I recently upgraded to heated ones to help keep the water from freezing, so Alexis and I didn’t have to work as hard, but it still takes an eternity to fill up. I hear crunching in the distance and think Jackson must’ve stopped by, but when I turn around, I don’t see his truck.
Damn, I miss him. Hell, I always miss him. It’s a sickness really. No matter how much time we spend together or how many times a day I see him, it’s never enough. My hunger for him is an endless pit. Obsessed and possessed. It’s the only way to accurately describe it, yet I don’t even want to be cured. He owns every part of me and not having him in my life would feel empty and incomplete now.
My feelings for him were always present, sitting on the sidelines, waiting to be called out for the big game. I might’ve benched them while I was dating Trent because I thought he was the one I was supposed to marry, but as soon as Jackson made his feelings clear—the game was off. These past two months have been surreal, and even if we’re moving a hundred miles an hour, I don’t even care. It doesn’t scare me like it would in any other relationship because deep down, I’ve always known he’s the one. I want to build a horse training barn near the house, get married, and have lots of Bishop babies.
I smile at the thought. My mind often wanders while I’m working—thoughts all leading to Jackson. I still can’t believe it sometimes. I’ve waited so long that it feels like it can’t be this easy, can it? Jackson has never had a relationship in his life, and I always wondered if we ever did get together, if he’d even be able to handle something serious.
Turns out he definitely can. And to make things unimaginingly better, he’s still the same ole Jackson he’s always been, except intensely affectionate. We might be in our thirties, but we can’t keep our hands off each other like a bunch of love-sick teenagers.
Thinking about all of this makes me want to text him a sweet message. I reach in my back pocket but realize I left my phone in the barn. Crap.
The hose is still running, the bucket not even halfway filled yet. While I wait, I head into the barn to retrieve my cell and contemplate what I want to send.
Something dirty. Or sweet. Maybe I’ll send him a boob shot from my collection. I took them with the intent to tease the shit out of him.
Snickering at the thought, I step into the barn, the thin layer of ice crunching under my boots. I walk to where I left my phone, and it’s not there. What the hell? I could’ve sworn it’d be there. Maybe it’s in the back.
When I don’t find it in the back of the barn either, I figure it must’ve fallen out of my pocket on the way out to the pasture. Making my way out of the barn, a sudden cold chill goes through me.
I should get my other jacket, I think to myself. Champs starts neighing and thrashing around his stall.
“What’s the matter, boy? You—” I stop midsentence when I see a dark figure out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head to get a better look, I gasp at the sight of Trent standing in front of the barn door.
“Hello, Kiera.” His voice is distant and cold, making me tremble at the sound of it.
“What are you doing here?” I try to keep my voice level, but I’m anything but relaxed. Taking a small step back, hoping he doesn’t notice, he steps forward.
“Do you miss me?” he asks, his tone dripping with ice. “Do you?”
“Trent, I think you should go.” I try to plead with him. His eyes are empty as he stares at me. “I’m going to call the deputy if you don’t get off my property.”
His lips widen into a wicked grin, obviously not fazed by my threat. “Is that so?” He reaches in his pocket and holds up my cell phone. Fuck. “Going to be pretty hard to do, don’t you think?”
“Trent…” I tread carefully. “You need to go. Now.”
“Not yet, babe. We need to talk.”
I cross my arms over my chest to stop my body from shaking. “There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing you say is going to change anything,” I say firmly, hoping he gets the point.
“Wrong.” He reaches behind his back and under his shirt before he exposes the revolver in his hand.
“Oh my God,” I mutter. “Why do you have a gun?” I step back.
My heart hammers in my chest as horrible thoughts race through my mind. I can’t believe this is happening. Trent has never shown this side to me before, and he looks almost manic. Who the hell is this guy? There’s no way I was that blind to almost marry him.
Instead of pointing the gun at me like I anticipate, he shocks me when he puts it directly to his temple.
“Trent, wait…”
“You…” he stammers. “You did this to me.”
Slowly, I step closer. “Trent,
put the gun down. Please.”
“Don’t you dare,” he spits out. “Don’t you dare pretend to give two shits about me now. You tossed me aside like last week’s trash after everything I gave you!” he screams, nearly making me jump out of my skin. “I gave you everything, you little bitch!”
“Trent, please,” I beg, tears blurring my vision. “Let’s talk. Put the gun down.” I hold my hands out, slowly creeping forward.
“I have nothing now,” he says in the saddest voice. “I lost you, and I have no fucking purpose. If I can’t have you, I’d rather be dead.”
“Don’t say that.” I manage to step closer without him stopping me and can smell the faint scent of bourbon. Great, he’s drunk too.
“It’s true, Kiera. I loved you. Without you, life just isn’t worth it.” He unclicks the safety, and my heart beats into overdrive. “And you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your life.”
“Trent, please.” I’m nearly in front of him now. “I do love you.”
“Don’t fucking patronize me,” he snaps.
“I’m not, I swear,” I quickly spit out. “I made a huge mistake leaving you. I thought Jackson was who I wanted because of our history, but I was wrong.” The words taste like venom in my mouth, but I have no choice if I want to get the gun out of his hand.
“You really mean that, babe?” His grip loosens on the gun just slightly.