by Vi Summers
I scoffed. “I bet they took that well.” When he didn’t answer right away, I prompted. “And?”
The arm of my couch bore the brunt of Wyatt’s fist. “Waste of goddamn time.”
I threw up my hands. “I could have told you that and saved you the trip! Christ, man, you know what they’re like!”
“And I know what you’re like. I ain’t gonna let you let this slide!”
“Does this look like I’m letting this fucking slide?” I exclaimed, snapping to my feet and throwing my arms wide.
Louisiana and Rory seemed to shrink into their seats while Jake leaned forward in his. My breath came hard, as if I’d just sprinted a mile, and my fists repeatedly balled and released on their own accord.
I dropped my voice low. “You know how hard I fought to get this program up and running. It’s important to me.” I glanced over at Louisiana to see her expression soften, and it gave me all the reassurance I needed.
Wyatt pushed off the couch and tossed his hat where he’d been sitting. “I know exactly how hard you fought for it, Brandon, and I remember how much you hated the confrontation and resistance you were up against. Honestly, man, I was just tryin’ to help.”
My rigid stance deflated. His statement rang true on every level. I wasn’t good with confrontation. In fact, I hated it. It was Wyatt who pushed me hard to overcome the mild anxiety that came with going against the grain of the locals. Lucky for me, I had the determination to prove them wrong; turn their fears into acceptance, and hell, perhaps even a little respect after all these years.
I glared at his back as he stalked from the room, then returned to my armchair.
Rory huffed. “Do you want me to go talk to him?”
I huffed too and realized I sounded much too like my sister for my liking. “No.”
“Wouldn’t listen to you anyway.” Wyatt drawled, entering the room with his usual charming grin reinstated and a cold beer in-hand.
Rory flipped him off as he tracked across the room. He threw himself back onto the couch and set an ankle on the opposite knee. “Go see Fisher and get your legal ducks in a row.”
Rory let out an irritated and overly obnoxious sigh, and Jake sniggered.
“Brah, you’re only half an hour too late for that suggestion.”
Wyatt whipped his head my way, obviously seeking answers. I let him stew a little by taking a long swig of beer. Finally, I shrugged.
“I’ve already called him and arranged an appointment. The rumors had already reached him, so he wasn’t surprised to hear from me.”
“For when? When are you meetin’ him?”
“Day after tomorrow. Gives me enough time to figure out what paperwork I need.”
With downcast eyes, Louisiana worried her lower lip with her teeth and picked at her jeans.
“Lou?” I murmured softly.
Blue eyes lifted to mine, alive and swirling with worry that touched on my heart. “Yeah?”
“What is it, darlin’?”
She nibbled a couple more times and darted a nervous glance at the guys. “I can’t help but feel this is my fault.”
Again, with the squeeze in my chest. “It’s definitely not your fault, sweetheart. C’mere.”
The moment she was within reach, I pulled her onto my lap and stole an intimate moment despite having company. The smell of her neck settled the hurricane blowing through my veins. She was right where she needed to be—with me.
“We’ll get this sorted, darlin’. Hang in there.”
Chapter 28
Brandon
“Brandon. Brandon!”
Ah, fuck. Keep walkin’, Bran, just keep on walkin’ I chanted in my head while the clatter of hurrying high heels chased me down the street.
“Brandon Nash, I know you can hear me!”
Inhaling a deep breath and willing my composure to last just a few more minutes before I got to my attorney’s office, I stopped short and turned to face the she-devil dressed like the purest of housewives.
“What do you want, Jolene?”
Her pretty pink lips parted into a Miss Universe smile, stunning and perfect to those who didn’t know how fake it was.
“Just to talk.”
My eyes narrowed as she flicked her hair innocently. “It’s never just talking with you. So, what do you want?” She almost always had an ulterior motive.
Despite batting her long lashes, ice sliced through her eyes. “Afraid of a little confrontation?”
I stepped closer so I could lower my voice. “I ain’t afraid of you, Jo.”
“Seems that you are.” My confused frown made her elaborate. “You had to send your little messenger boy around because you couldn’t confront me face-to-face like a man.”
“That’s not what happened.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yeah right. And Wyatt thought he was such a hero storming in to lay down the law. Unfortunately for you, I don’t take kindly to threats.”
My mood darkened infinitely more. “He did no such thing.”
She gave me an expressionless look, so I added, “I didn’t ask him to fight my battles for me.”
The caustic edge to her gaze intensified. “And yet, he did.” Her practiced smile morphed into a leer. “It’s going to be fun bringing your ridiculous program to the ground. You have no idea how many people want to see the town cleansed of the felons you so willingly truck in. You know what I hope happens?” She inched closer until my eyes struggled to stop going cross-eyed. “I say shut it all down and send the criminals back to where they belong. Ya know, stop them tainting our little town.”
Every one of her callous words hit exactly where they were meant to and punched holes in the lining of my gut. Acidic bile rose along with my anger. All in all, I was a laid-back kind of guy. It took more than a few jagged words to get a rise out of me, and the ones that just spat from Jolene’s mouth were laced with toxicity designed to cut deep. And cut deep, they did. They seared into the part of my soul that lived to help others. The same place my passion and pride came from, and of course, my love for those who meant the most to me.
My mama had taught me to respect women no matter what. But what small amount of tolerance I had for Jolene over the years completely dissipated. My hand landed on her waist and gripped so she couldn’t shrink away. She needed to stay right where she was and hear every single syllable I had to say.
“You’re nothing but a spoiled little bitch who’s throwing her toys because she didn’t get her own way. Grow up, Jolene, and when you do, maybe you’ll be half as decent as you think you are. You want to shut my program down? Then saddle up and get yourself a decent fucking attorney, because I’ll be seeing you in court.”
Color hit her cheeks as her jaw dropped. The hurt cutting through her light brown eyes created the tiniest sliver of regret. I pushed it back down; she didn’t deserve my empathy. The truth hurt, and goddammit, I was fighting for my entire livelihood because the little witch didn’t have anything better to sink her claws into.
“Bra-”
“Don’t fucking accost me in the street again, and don’t even look the wrong way in Louisiana’s direction. I’m not going to let this little power trip of yours slide.”
Extracting my fingers from where they were wrinkling her creaseless dress, I gave her a look of complete disdain before turning and walking away.
“She’s nothing but a whore, Brandon. You’re a fool not to see it.”
As if my hackles couldn’t rise any further, a rippling wave of hatred shot across my shoulders. Against my better judgement, I half-turned and glared over my shoulder with every intention to thrust the knife as deep as I could.
“And yet, she means more to me than you ever did.”
Jolene’s footing faltered, as if I’d physically assaulted her. Within that moment, I let my mama down. Disrespectin’ women wasn’t how my parents raised me, but Jolene had pushed me too far.
“I hate you, Brandon. And I’m going to make sure you
r little empire crumbles around you.”
“You need to get a goddamn life, Jolene. One where tryin’ to hurt everyone else ain’t the center of your attention.”
Before she had the chance to make our confrontation uglier than it was, I turned on my heel and hastened to my attorney’s office half a block down. I arrived a little sweaty, out of breath, and praying Brian Fisher could perform miracles.
Chapter 29
Brandon
“I just dunno what to do, Pop.”
My father hummed and adjusted his faded, worn Stetson. “You sure know how to divide the town, Bran.”
I’d called in to see him on my way home to give him the latest update, and hoped he’d be able to give me some advice. So far, he was tellin’ me exactly what I already knew.
“How long did the sheriff say you have before Jolene makes her submission?”
“A week or so,” I grumbled. “She’s hustling hard since Lou is coming to the end of her sentence. Jolene wants to get her back behind bars.”
“Hmm, not long, then. She doesn’t have a leg to stand on though, son, and the Anderson’s are fools to encourage her.”
When he and Mom retired, they left me to run the ranch the way I saw fit. In times of uncertainty, like now, they were the first people I turned to for trusted advice.
“If the town-folk know what’s good for them, they’d spit on the damn petition instead of puttin’ ink to paper,” Pop added.
I laughed deep in my chest. “If only stopping her was that easy.”
“So, what did Fisher recommend?”
I adjusted my stance where I leaned against the tailgate of my truck. “Restraining order to keep her away from the ranch and away from Lou. There ain’t much else he can do right now, but we’ve already set in motion requests for the official station and justice reports detailing the success of those who’ve been rehabilitated by the program. If this goes to court, I can also file for defamation.”
“And Louisiana?”
My heart kicked. “I’m reluctant to bring her into all this if I can help it. She’s so close to the end of her sentence and getting Ollie back. I’d hate to jeopardize that.”
“This girl’s worth it then, eh?”
“Pop,” I deadpanned.
He chuckled and nodded. “Just checkin’, son. Makin’ sure you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
He adjusted his Stetson again. “Fisher will have you covered, so will Wilson. As much as the good sheriff was opposed to the program at the start, he, of all people, can see the good it’s done. I’ll be having a word with Bill Anderson next time I see him. Thank Christ you didn’t end up with his daughter.”
“I wised up pretty quickly.” I coughed at the memory of dating her in high school. High maintenance then, high maintenance now.
“That you did,” Pop replied in the tone he used when he was drawing the conversation to a close. “Keep me updated, boy.”
I climbed into my truck, started the engine, then set my arm on the open window ledge. “You know I will. And likewise.”
He nodded. “Now go home and don’t let this bullshit get to you. Miss Anderson’s in for one hell of a wake-up call when she realizes she doesn’t have as much sway as she thinks she does.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am, son. I may be getting on, but I can still see the bullshit when it’s hidden behind the roses. Now, get the hell out of here.”
I let out a loud laugh and slipped my truck into gear. “See ya ‘round, Pop.”
He lifted a finger in a dismissive wave, and was already getting stuck back into pulling apart an old diesel engine when I glanced in the rear-vision mirror. I chuckled to myself as I cruised down the long driveway, heading home and craving to see my woman again.
. . .
Louisiana chewed her lip as soon as I pulled to a stop outside the house.
“It’s damn good to see you, darlin’.” I smiled wide to hide my inner turmoil and gathered her against my chest.
Her warmth and scent immediately settled the uncertainty tearing through me.
“How’d you get on?” she asked, staring up at me with eyes squinted against the bright sunlight.
“I got on just fine,” I assured her. It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t a lie either.
“Is there anything I can do?”
I hugged her tighter. “You’re already doin’ all that’s needed.”
“What do you mean?”
“Stayin’ here, sweetheart.” I lifted her chin with one forefinger and sealed my mouth over hers.
I kissed her like I’d wanted to all day. I breathed in deep as she kissed me back and wove her fingers through the hair at the back of my head. Our boots bumped together as she shifted, then again when I wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet. A cute as hell squeal came from her nose, severing our kiss, and had me laughing against her mouth.
“And keep doin’ that.”
“Kissing you?”
“Yeah, and bein’ happy in my arms.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem, Brandon.”
However, the happy expression faltered, and a crease of doubt formed between her eyebrows. Her body tensed within my embrace as her eyes flicked back and forth between mine.
“Don’t overthink it,” I murmured.
Apprehension crept into her gaze. “But what did the lawyer say?”
Rhythmically rubbing my thumb over her cheek helped soothe away my same worries.
“We think it won’t come to anything, but we’re preparing as if it’s going to court. He doesn’t think it will, but at least we won’t be caught on the back foot and scramblin’.”
Louisiana squeezed me extra tight, as reluctant as I was to let go.
“I hope it doesn’t.”
“Same here, sweetheart.”
No matter what happened, letting her go was one thing I wasn’t going to allow to happen.
Chapter 30
Louisiana
I reached for the overhead handle as Rory tore along the country road, not slowing down as Brandon’s truck bounced over the uneven surface and took a tight corner. We were on our way into town to get groceries, and shit, she was reckless. I made sure my seat belt was tugged extra tight to keep me in place.
“You in some kind of hurry?”
Rory’s eyes cut my way, alarmingly leaving the road for a few precious seconds.
“No. I’m taking it slow. Why?”
“Slow! I’d hate to think what you call fast.”
Her uplifting laugh filled the cab. “You sound like Bran and Wyatt. Don’t stress, I’ve been driving these roads since I was eleven. I could literally drive them with my eyes closed.”
Oh fuck, I did not like the sound of that. “Let’s not try that right now.”
Another laugh came from the driver’s side. “I won’t. Gah!” she cried out when a large tractor appeared in front of us and forced her speed to lower drastically.
“Fucking Wyatt!” she exclaimed, slamming a hand onto the horn and holding it down in one long, obnoxious outburst of road-rage.
The driver turned in his seat. By now we were close enough to see his brows pull low in annoyance, then the devilish grin erupted when he recognized us.
Wyatt did a quick check of the road in front of him, then turned back to Rory and I tailgating his tractor. He flipped Rory off when she slammed on the horn again, this time in a series of impatient short honks that eventually ended in one never-ending one.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” she yelled through the windshield, waving her arm wildly to match her demand.
Although there was no way Wyatt could hear her, he threw his head back in laughter, obviously deciphering her meaning loud and clear.
Instead of moving aside, he pulled the tractor into the middle of the road and flipped her off again.
“Asshole!” she growled. “I’m going to cut off his balls if he doesn’t move as
ide.” The declaration was accompanied by another bout of angry honks.
I stared in curiosity. This wasn’t the first time I’d noticed Rory’s volatility around Wyatt, and it had me smirking.
“He’s razing you, girl.”
“I fucking know that. He can’t goddamn help himself.”
My amused giggle cut off when Rory hauled on the wheel and undertook Wyatt’s tractor. She rolled her window down while driving alongside him and held her middle finger high in the air. “Fuck you, Wyatt.”
Although the tractor engine covered his laughter, I saw him holding his stomach and laughing wildly as the tractor bounced along beside us.
When Wyatt slowed a little and impatiently waved Rory ahead of him, she planted her foot and roared past with another honk.
She squeezed the life out of the steering wheel and flicked her gaze to the rear vision mirror. “Heaven forbid the next person to fuck with me today.”
I laughed. “Oh hell, even I’m a little scared right now.”
“Ha, you’ve got nothing to worry ‘bout, babe. I got your back. Besides, Brandon owes us for this, and luckily for us, I have his credit card. Lunch is on him.” Rory grinned and stuck out the tip of her tongue.
“You’re crazy.”
“Girl, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
“Oh god,” I said through a laugh, holding on for dear life as Rory’s impatience pushed our speed higher than before.
. . .
We stopped for dog food and chicken pellets, shopped, and loaded the groceries without drama, then stopped for lunch before heading back to the ranch. All was well as we exited the local cafe, happily talking and laughing, until we came face-to-face with Jolene strutting along the street.
The mood instantly soured, and I went from relaxed to coiled with apprehension in a heartbeat. The hatred she aimed my way was too intense to ignore. She rivaled the woman I’d met in jail for unjustified anger and outright hostile behavior.