by Jess Bentley
Chapter 20
Trey
I’m not happy about missing a night with Jessa, but when I see how happy Joshua and Tyler look the next morning, my tiny twinge of jealousy fades to nothing. How can I be unhappy when my brothers are so content?
Besides, at least Clay had to go to bed alone, too. For some reason, that makes me smile.
“How did you sleep?” I ask Jessa when we all sit down to breakfast. We’re late this morning, but it affords us more privacy. It’s just the four of us and Jessa. Only BethAnn is still around, and she’s humming to herself in the kitchen, cleaning. I’ve offered to hire help for BethAnn, especially now that she’s getting a little older, but she won’t hear of it. Another few years and I’ll insist—well, I’ll try to insist. I might technically sign her paycheck, but there is no doubt in my mind who really rules the house. And it isn’t a Hollister.
Her cheeks redden in an adorable show of embarrassment. “Good, thanks.”
Tyler chokes back a laugh, trying to turn it into a cough.
I just shake my head and take a sip of coffee. “Clay and I have to head into town and go to the feed store today if you’d like to come, Jessa.”
“Sounds fun,” she says with a smile.
“Yeah, going to the feed store is a hoot,” Tyler replies, good-natured sarcasm in his tone.
Jessa jabs him softly in the ribs. “Spending time with Clay and Trey is fun.”
He shrugs and rolls his eyes. “If you’re into that sort of thing. I’m going to be up getting that fence fixed a little more permanently.”
Jessa chuckles. “What are you up to today, Joshua?”
Joshua grimaces, then shrugs. “I have some work I really need to finish before the end of the month. But I’m sure you’ll have fun with these two goons.”
We load up in Clay’s old Ford pickup, since the three of us can fit on the bench seat just fine, and Clay and I are both fans of how it places Jessa between us with little room to spare.
Once we get to the feed store, Jessa and I walk to a small stand nearby and grab some ice cream cones. Clay runs into the store to get our order while Jessa and I wait outside after we finish our treat. She has the notebook she’s always carrying around out and is fanning her face with it. Her eyes sparkle in the sunshine, and she looks so damn relaxed and happy.
What the hell are we going to do with ourselves when she leaves?
And then I see someone else familiar coming out of the feed store—Jed Burke.
“Jed!” I call out, to the man I once considered a friend.
Jed halts in his track then turns toward me. His whole body tenses, but he walks up to Jess and me. Around the side of the store, Clay comes out carrying the large bag of specialty feed that we ordered.
“Been out at our land lately?” I ask. I’m so angry I want to spit, but I refuse to lose it with this guy. Doubly so in front of Jessa.
Jed crosses his arms and glares at me. “Why the hell would I want to be on your land?”
But he doesn’t, I notice, answer the question. That might mean something, or it might mean nothing at all. But considering the fence, I think it means he’s evading the fucking question.
Clay tosses the feed into the back of the truck and turns around, slapping dust off his shirt. “Somebody was on our land. And that someone decided to take a chunk of our fencing with them.”
I’ll give Jed credit. He doesn’t blink. “Well, that’s a damn shame, boys. Seems like I’m the not the only one in town who thinks you all need to be taught a lesson, am I?”
“We know it was you!” Clay says, his voice getting louder with every word. “You’ve been a pain in the ass for the longest time. But I never thought I’d see the day you would resort to being a damn criminal.”
Jed’s face is bright red with rage. “Call me a criminal, boy? Maybe it’s time somebody kicked the shit out of you.”
“Guys,” Jessa says, staying safely back from the powder keg in front of her. “Maybe we should sit down and talk.”
“I’ve talked enough with you, I would say,” Jed says, loudly.
I step between Jed and Jessa. “Don’t you talk to her like that. Besides, there’s nobody else who would’ve—”
“Hey!” We all stop and turn to look at the store manager standing just outside of the door to the store. “You all get out of here with that bullshit. Knock it off or leave.”
Jed rolls his shoulders and gives us a last nasty look—like all of this is our fault.
“Sorry about that,” I call out to the store manager.
Without another word, Jed stalks away toward his truck. Clay looks like he wants to follow him, but when Jessa touches his arm, he settles. Then he wraps an arm around her and hugs her close.
“Let’s get back to the ranch,” I say.
We get back into the truck and head out.
“Maybe Jed didn’t damage the fence,” Jessa says as we pull out of the parking lot.
“It has to be him,” I say. “That’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Damn straight,” Clay adds. “That guy’s always gotten under my skin.” He frowns. “His dad and our dad were friends, which is why we’ve tried to make things work with Jed. Hell, Jed even worked with our dad for a while after his old man retired. But he’s just too goddamn stubborn.”
Jessa leans back in her seat crosses her arms. “He just... I don’t know. I’m not saying he’s a good guy or that he didn’t do it, but he didn’t strike me as the kind of man who’d resort to destroying someone else’s property… at least when I talked to him.”
Clay starts and turns to look at her like she’s never seen her before. “When did you talk to Jed?”
I’m glad that he asked, so I didn’t have to.
Jessa shrugs, looking embarrassed. “That day you brought me to town to go to the drugstore. I wandered around and interviewed people so I could get other locals’ views on what you guys are doing out here at the ranch.” She shrugs. “Jed’s name came up a lot, so I crashed his lunch over at Amber’s and interviewed him.”
Oh lovely, she’d gotten to meet Amber. I wonder if Jed’s sister gave her a piece of her mind about me.
“How is the article coming?” I ask, if only to stop myself from asking her about Amber.
Her expression brightens. “It’s actually coming along really well. You guys can read it before I send it to my editor if you want.”
“That’d be great,” Clay says. Then he raises an eyebrow at her. “If only to make sure you at least say some nice things about us.”
Jessa grins. “There might be a complimentary thing or two about you Hollister brothers in there.”
I grin, and Clay chuckles.
Clay and Jessa start talking more about the article while I do my best pay attention to driving instead of the sexy thing sitting next to me on the bench seat. But when we approach a big bend in the road, and I stamp on the brakes, nothing happens.
Shit.
“Everybody got their seatbelts on?” I ask with a growl. I know they do, but I have to be sure. I stamp on the brakes several more times and not a damn thing happens. We’re approaching the bend too fast, and I downshift, but it isn’t enough.
I take a deep breath and try to stay calm. Next to me, Clay and Jessa are asking what’s going on. I ignore them. Instead, I focus on aiming the truck toward a field instead of the bunch of trees lining the road. There’s a huge drop-off on the curb that I have to avoid, and I do, just barely saving us from dropping down several hundred feet into a ravine that is taken more than one life since this road was built. I miss the first tree and the second. But I can’t avoid the third.
Jessa screams, Clay shouts and throws an arm over her chest. I do the same, but I’m not sure it’ll be enough. The seatbelt digs into me as it does its job of holding me in place as we crash. The scream of bending metal and breaking glass cuts through the quiet day.
Steam and smoke are coming into the cab, and I blink a few times, trying
to catch my bearings.
“Get Jessa,” I mumble. Then more loudly, “Get Jessa out.” I look over, to yell at my brother again. But it’s no use. Clay and Jess are both unconscious I can see blood dripping down my brother’s temple, but I don’t see anything so obvious on Jessa. Shit. And with the way the truck is crunched up around us, I’m not even sure how to get her out.
I try to open my door, but it takes three strikes of my shoulder before it finally opens with a loud crunch. Clay’s truck isn’t coming back from this. But that’s the least of my worries right now.
I get out of the cab, and if I’m hurt, the adrenaline rushing through my veins keeps me from feeling it.
My cell phone. Hell, my brain isn’t working right and neither my fingers. Takes me two tries to get my cell phone out of my pocket, but the rush of adrenaline when I see it isn’t broken doesn’t help.
I call 911. I sound calm, at least myself. I tell the operator where we are and what happened. But I sure as hell don’t feel calm. The 911 operator wants me to stay on the line, but I need to get Jess and Clay out of the truck.
I know cars blowing up isn’t something that happens often—despite what movies would have us believe. But I’d still feel better getting both of them out of the vehicle. Clay’s side of the truck is too crushed for me to open the door but when I bang on the window, his head moves. A few bangs and screams later and he’s blinking at me and looking around him.
“Don’t shake her,” I yell at Clay through the glass when he touches Jessa’s shoulder. He turns back to me and gives me a glare that clearly asks if I’m an idiot. As I watch, he takes out his pocket knife and cuts himself free from his seatbelt. Then he rolls down his window just enough to slip through—it just won’t open any more than that—and I help him climb out.
Blood is still seeping from the wound on his head, but otherwise, he looks okay.
“Are you all right?” I ask, to make sure.
Clay nods and winces at the motion. He touches his head gingerly. “Going to have a hell of a headache, but I’m fine. Let’s get Jessa out of there.”
But Jessa is wedged in the truck, her legs trapped by metal that—thank, God—doesn’t seem to be actually crushing her legs. It’s just holding her in place. And neither of us can figure get way to get her out that doesn’t involve injuring her worse in the process. Somehow, in the thick of it, Clay thinks to call Joshua and Tyler. But before they can get there, emergency services finally arrive.
It’s a shit show, and they won’t let Clay and I anywhere near the truck while they work. Fear shoots through me as we watch them carefully extract her from the twisted metal of the truck. Clay and I are silent, but I feel like somebody is cutting out my damn heart. I turn to glance at Clay, and tears are streaming down his face while he watches Jessa. My gaze returns to her, and I touch my cheek. I’m crying, too, and I didn’t even notice.
Helpless, we watch and wait. And when they finally pull her out of the truck, and she moans, relief hits me. It’s so profound that the feeling almost knocks me to my knees.
At some point during the drama, a helicopter arrived—the hospital’s air unit. How fucking out of it was I that I didn’t even notice that?
We run after her, but a couple sheriff’s deputies stop us in our tracks.
“We have to go with her,” Clay shouts at the deputies.
“I’m sorry, sir. But that isn’t possible. You have to meet her at the hospital.”
“She’s carrying my fucking baby!” Clay shouts, his voice full of fear and panic.
The officer’s stony expression breaks, and he clasps Clay on the shoulder. “I’m so sorry, sir. But you still can’t ride with her. I suggest you go to get checked out by these paramedics to make sure you’re okay when she needs you. You’re still bleeding pretty good.”
It doesn’t matter what argument we come up with, no one will let us closer.
“Trey!” Tyler’s voice cuts through the din, and I see him and Joshua waving frantically from the road. More cops won’t let them any closer.
“Our brothers,” I say to the deputy we’ve been talking to, and I point at Joshua and Tyler.
The cop turns and waves to the other deputies, and they allow Tyler and Joshua to come through.
In the distance, the helicopter takes off. We need to go, but I need to know something else, too. I grab Joshua as soon as they approach, and I say to Tyler, “Check the brake line.”
It’s obvious Tyler wants to know what the hell is going on, but he knows I’m serious. Without a word, he rushes over the truck and slides underneath. The deputy stays close, clearly interested in what we’re looking at. Only a few seconds later, and Tyler sliding back out, his expression grim.
“Brake lines have been cut.”
“Where is Jessa?” Joshua says, panic in his tone as he takes in the truck and the extent of the damage.
“They just airlifted her to the hospital,” I say, all emotion gone from my voice.
“She has to be okay,” Clay says, desperation in his voice. “I love her. I’m fucking in love with her.”
“So am I,” Joshua and Tyler say in chorus. It would’ve been funny in any other situation, but it isn’t now.
“I love her, too,” I say. And it’s true. I do. I’ve fallen in love again—something I never thought would happen—and we might lose her.
Chapter 21
Tyler
Joshua drives us all to the hospital. He’s the only one with any sort of steadiness left in him—and even his strength is fraying at the edges, I can see it in the way he carries himself. But even though the helicopter has to have beaten us to the hospital by a little while, they won’t let us in to see Jessa. Trey insists that Clay get his head checked out, and sure enough, it’s a concussion. By the time Clay reappears with his diagnosis, we’re still waiting to hear about her.
It feels like an empty pit has opened in the bottom of my stomach. And all of us take turns pacing the room. All of us except Clay, who is under strict instructions not to move around too much as a sudden wave of dizziness could knock him back on his ass.
I watch my brothers pace, and wonder, how have I fallen for this woman so quickly? How have we fallen?
I guess it doesn’t matter how it happened. For the for the first time in a very long time, I feel like I’m somewhere that I belong. My brothers have argued that I always belonged with them in the past. But it hasn’t really felt that way since mom and dad died. Not until Jessa.
Finally, an older woman appears in the waiting room carrying a clipboard.
“Mr. Hollister?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at us.
“That’s us,” I say.
“Oh, I see. Which one of you is Jessa Long’s boyfriend?”
“We are,” we all say in unison. Again, it would be fucking hilarious if the situation weren’t so serious.
The doctor’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t argue. “Well, then. I wanted to let you know that Jessa is awake. And she’s going to be okay.”
The doctor pauses for a moment, letting us all take in that news. Relief hits me like a ton of bricks, and I sit heavily in one of the waiting room chairs as my muscles go weak.
“Jessa has a small placental tear, which is dangerous for the baby,” the doctor goes on. “And she’s going to require bed rest until it heals. I’ll discharge her in a day or two if all goes well, but she has to rest.”
We all murmur our agreement to that, and the doctor nods, satisfied.
“We’ll tie her to the bed if we have to,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, even though I know I probably shouldn’t. It’s just my nature.
Clay, Trey, and Joshua shoot me a quick glare, but the doctor smiles. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Ms. Long seems very concerned with making sure that her baby is okay and that everything stays that way.”
“Can we see her?” Joshua asks.
The doctor nods. “Of course, you can. But try not to get her overly excited. We’re trying to kee
p her calm.”
The four of us follow the doctor to Jessa’s room. And I can’t help but think how tired I am of seeing Jessa in a hospital bed. But seeing her there is better than the alternative. Jessa breaks into a bright smile at the sight of us, and the doctor shuts the door and leaves us alone.
I don’t make it far into the room before I have to stop. She has a bruise on her forehead, and she is pale. Too pale. With nothing better to do except worry, the four of us discussed Jed in the waiting room, and I see no reason to doubt Trey and Clay’s theory that he’s the one behind cutting the brake line.
And right now, I want to kill him.
Blood pounds through my ears, and I take a deep breath to try to calm the rage rolling through me. Showing my anger won’t do anything but stress Jessa and hurting her is the absolute last thing I want to do. Around me, I can see my brothers doing the same. Clay has to take a deep breath, too, and Trey’s fists are clenched at his sides. Joshua’s expression reveals more anger than I think I’ve ever seen from my brother. He’s generally so stoic, but even he has his limits. And like the rest of us, anyone hurting Jessa pushes those limits to the brink.
“I’m going to rip him apart,” Clay says, his voice more growl than speech.
“How are you feeling?” I say, breaking through my brothers to go to Jessa and take her hand. An IV is stuck in her wrist, so I’m careful to only touch her delicate fingertips.
Jessa gives me a wan smile. “I’m okay, I think. The doctor says I’m okay. More importantly, the baby is okay, too.”
“Can we get you anything?” Joshua asks, going to her other side. My brother’s eyes are moist behind his glasses, and I look away, back to Jessa. Damn me if I don’t feel like crying too.
“Nothing wrong with me that a couple days laying here like a lump won’t cure,” she says. Then she hesitates, seeming to want to say something else, but she closes her mouth, instead.
“What is it? Trey asks.
“If it’s okay with the doctor, I’d love some chocolate pudding.”