by Tara Rose
“Is the house completely gone?” she asked.
“I’m sorry to say it is. Went up like a matchstick. Be glad you weren’t inside. You wouldn’t have made it out.”
“What about my neighbors?”
“Some damage on both sides, but mainly siding and a couple of windows. They were lucky. And no one was hurt.”
Ethan asked if they could meet the sheriff at his house, and was told they could, along with the fire chief. Then he called Noah and Jimmie, who both had already heard and were on their way to Ethan’s house.
“Why?” she’d asked it so many times now, and he had no answers. He only hoped one of her neighbors had seen something and would speak up. When they arrived at his house, half her family was there, and Ethan went inside with her to find Noah and Jimmie.
Savannah’s parents told her not to worry because her insurance would cover it, and she told them she was more concerned about whether Noah’s house or Ethan’s was next. The sheriff talked to her again, asking the same questions she’d already answered, and then the fire chief sat down with them.
“This was pretty easy,” he said. “A homemade pipe bomb tossed through a window. Your neighbors are being interviewed now. Someone had to have seen something.”
“At least they waited until I was gone.”
“I’m suspecting they did that on purpose. The idea wasn’t to harm you, only to send a message.”
“Well, it worked.”
Ethan put an arm around her and felt her tremble, feeling helpless.
The fire chief handed them a card. “Call me if you think of anything else. Do you have the sheriff’s number?”
“Yes,” said Ethan. “Thank you.”
It took two more hours before everyone finally left, and Ethan insisted that Savannah try to lie down and get some sleep.
She gave him a wide-eyed look, like a frightened child. “I don’t want to be alone.”
He put her in his room and held her until she finally drifted off to sleep, then he went in search of Jimmie and Noah.
“This is beyond anything I thought people would do,” said Noah.
“It’s my fault,” said Jimmie.
“No, it’s not,” said Ethan. “The fault for this rests squarely on whoever did it. It’s not on you, Noah, me, or Savannah.”
“They’ll find him,” said Noah. “Or her. They’ll figure this out.”
Ethan hoped they were right. Because Savannah had expressed his own fear earlier. Noah’s house or his house could be next. When he thought of how Savannah could have been inside, he wanted to scream. Would she ever feel safe again? How was he going to protect her when he couldn’t stay here with her all the time?
* * * *
Noah called his boss after Ethan and Jimmie went to bed, and explained what had happened. She’d already heard, and asked what she could do. “We don’t want to leave Savannah alone in the house until this all blows over. I have vacation time built up, but I know things are busy right now.”
“Don’t even worry about that. Things are always busy. Take what you need.”
“Thank you.”
When he got off the phone, Jimmie came into the room. “That was Luke. He said I have paid time off for up to two weeks if I want to take it, so I said I would.”
Noah breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn’t be alone in this house.
“Who would do this?” asked Jimmie.
Noah snorted. “The better question is, who wouldn’t? I have a long list.”
“Yeah. Isn’t that the truth.”
Noah sighed and leaned back in the chair. They were outside on the front porch, watching the clouds build in the southwest. The wind had been picking up all day. There was a major storm brewing, and it eerily mirrored all the shit going on in town right now.
Unless one of her neighbors spoke up, this wasn’t over by a long shot. He’d asked his former neighbors to keep an eye on his house, and they promised to. He was lucky. Most of the people who lived close to him weren’t assholes, and weren’t judging him like Bobby and his creepy congregation.
It would be nice to be away from work for a while. Things had been weird in the unit all week since Jimmie’s father had been arrested, and Kay-Jean Harrell had been leading the pack.
Holy fuck!
Noah sat straight up. “Oh, shit. Fuck.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I know who did this.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jimmie and Ethan took turns peeking in on Savannah while Noah talked with the sheriff. She was still sleeping. An hour later, Jimmie peeked in on her again when they got the call that Danny Harrell had been arrested outside of Christiana, with a hacksaw, a piece of pipe that had been cut with the saw, potassium chlorate, and dozens of match books with the heads missing.
He had claimed innocence, of course, but apparently a neighbor of Savannah’s had finally come forth and said they saw Danny, clear as day, toss the pipe through the window. By the time Noah called the sheriff to relay his suspicions, they were already looking for Danny.
All three men got very little sleep that night, and Ethan looked exhausted as he headed for work. “I’ll leave as soon as I can. Preston will understand.”
“We’ll be with her.”
He and Noah let her sleep until around ten, when thick dark clouds moved in and there were several thunderstorm warnings issued. She got up and took a quick shower, and by the time she’d settled in to eat something, the thunder and lightning had begun. She didn’t say much, and Jimmie was very worried about her. He felt so damn helpless. What could he possibly say, after all?
The storm produced hail and heavy rain, but never reached the point where tornado warnings were issued, so the three stayed on the main floor. Noah and Jimmie did their best to distract Savannah, but she didn’t want to talk about any of it. She was hiding. Jimmie recognized it. He’d done it for years, and told Noah so when she left the room to use the bathroom.
When Ethan got home that afternoon, the four made dinner inside and watched TV until Savannah fell asleep on the sofa. They carried her to her own room this time, but Noah and Jimmie took turns staying with her in case she woke up.
This continued for two days, with Ethan going to work and leaving as soon as he could, and then they heard from the ADA one afternoon as soon as Ethan got home. Jimmie’s father had been indicted on charges of voluntary manslaughter.
* * * *
Jimmie’s father was out on bail. He wouldn’t go to trial for another month, so he was home. Jimmie told Noah and Ethan where he was going, but didn’t want them to wake Savannah. Both men offered to come with him, but he said he needed to do this alone, and would rather they stay with Savannah.
He sat in his car outside his house for a long time, and then finally knocked on the door. His father said nothing. Merely glared at him. Jimmie wasn’t afraid any longer, and that realization filled him with courage.
“I won’t keep you long,” he said. “I have something to say to you, and then I don’t care if we never speak to each other again for the rest of our lives.”
His father looked surprised, and rightly so. Jimmie had never stood up to him, raised his voice to him, or argued with him. He kept going before he lost his nerve.
“What you did was wrong and I know you know that. You can pretend it didn’t happen, and you can stand up in church and lie about it, but in your heart you know the truth.” Jimmie pointed toward the sky. “He knows the truth. Isn’t that what you always said? God knows the heart.”
“How dare you preach to me.”
“Hush. I’m not done. I love Savannah. I always have. And you can hate that, you can preach against it, and you can condemn it from the town square, but it won’t change what’s in here.” Jimmie placed his hand over his heart. “It won’t change how I feel. She saved me.”
His father looked like Jimmie had just slapped him. “The blood of Jesus Christ saved you, not that woman.”
“Maybe so. Maybe so. But the same Jesus who sav
ed me preached love and tolerance, not hate and anger. You might do well to remember that. I have nothing else to say to you. It’s not for me to judge you. That’s in the hands of a jury now.”
Jimmie turned around and walked off the porch, his entire body shaking.
“God will judge me! Not a jury!”
He ignored it. He knew that holier-than-thou tone in his father’s voice. He’d been listening to it his entire life.
Pastor Bobby James was still preaching from his front porch when Jimmie drove away.
* * * *
Savannah called Jackie the evening before she was supposed to return from vacation, and before she could even ask for another week, Jackie told her to take it. “I’d have been surprised if you’d come back already. Oh, by the way, Kay-Jean is no longer working here.”
“What?”
“When they arrested her brother, she quit.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t ask her. I was happy to see her go, and as I’m sure you can guess, so was everyone else.”
“It’s for the best.”
“Yes. I agree. You stay home another week and take care of yourself, you hear?”
That Sunday Jimmie’s father didn’t preach at service. A visiting pastor from Christiana took over, and on Monday afternoon Jimmie told them his cousin had called to say the church was demanding his father’s resignation as pastor.
The phone calls and texts had died down considerably for all three, but Savannah said she still had nightmares about explosions. Each night, the guys had taken turns sleeping next to her, but the morning after they’d heard about Bobby’s indictment, she asked what they wanted to do about permanent sleeping arrangements.
“What do you want to do?” asked Ethan.
“Well, I like having my own room to go to when I need it, but you guys don’t have to stay with me. I’m all right now.”
“Maybe we should build a giant bed?” suggested Noah. “And all sleep in it together?”
Jimmie laughed and Ethan chuckled. “I don’t know about that. I guess we could all take turns with Savannah.”
“Should I put a calendar up in my room?”
They all laughed at that, and then Jimmie pulled her close. “It will be okay. If I can get through this, so can you. And we’re here for you. You know that. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
He’d finally told her how he’d confronted his father, and she had been so proud of him for doing so.
“Kay-Jean left town, by the way,” said Ethan. “I heard it through the grapevine today at work.”
“Really?”’
“I heard it, too,” said Noah. “And Ellie is very subdued compared to her usual self.”
“Her partner in crime is gone,” said Savannah. “I can’t help but wonder whether Kay-Jean put her brother up to that. Why else would he do it?”
“I agree. And the sheriff thought so, too, but they found nothing in her house or car to suggest it, so they couldn’t hold her.”
“What?” Savannah stared at Noah. “She was arrested, too?”
Noah nodded. “Yep. That’s what the gossip mill says.”
“Well there you have it. She put him up to it. The idiot violated his parole, and now he’ll end up right back in jail.”
“Where he belongs,” said Jimmie.
Ethan pulled her close. “And you belong here with us. We’re not letting anything happen to you. I hope you know you’re stuck with us.”
She snugged against Ethan’s warm body, thinking back to her first date with him. So much had happened in a month, but she wouldn’t have traded any of it. “I don’t want to be anywhere else besides stuck with you three. I love you. All of you.”
“And we love you, too.”
“More than anything,” said Noah, hugging her from behind.
Jimmie squeezed in there and managed to get an arm around her, too. “I love you so much, Savannah. No matter what happens, that will never change.”
She closed her eyes and let the emotions wash over her. These three would never leave her, and they’d never hurt her. What had started out as fun and kinky sex had grown into true love. Something she thought she’d never find. And the shit storm in this town was just beginning, but it didn’t matter. She’d weather it with her three men.
Because no one and nothing could take away her love for them, or their love for her. And she would hold onto that, each and every day. It grounded her and kept her sane. And now she had them in her arms, and in her bed every night if she wanted.
And they had her. She would never leave them. Never. They were her whole world now. And she would spend the rest of her life making sure they each knew how very, very much she loved them.
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tara Rose loves to write about small towns and the quirky people that inhabit them. You’ll find engaging characters, budding romance, intrigue, and plenty of hot steamy ménage sex within the pages of her books. You never really know what goes on behind closed doors, but her books will take you there, and leave you panting for more.
When she isn’t writing, Tara spends time with her husband—her real-life hero. She loves to cook, collect antique pottery, and she will read just about anything. Tara also plays the cello, and loves decorating her house for Christmas.
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