Behind the Scandal

by M.A. Stacie

  Josh laughed again. “You don’t need to speak the words, boy. Your anger speaks volumes. You do realize you have to lose that before you can give up those drugs for good, don’t you? Anger will always hold you back.”

  “It was drug. One. Not drugs, plural.” Taylor rolled his eyes and began to walk away.

  Josh cleared his throat and clicked his fingers until Taylor turned to face him. “The fence still needs fixing.”

  He clenched his hands, and his short nails dug into the flesh on his palm as Josh snapped the invisible manacles in place. His first instinct was to tell the old man to shove it. But he couldn’t. If he wanted his life back, wanted to return to his penthouse and his luxurious bed, then he had to get through his time in Hunter’s Hollow. He wasn’t a fool—he couldn’t cope alone and without his father’s money. If that made him weak, then so be it. At least he was honest with himself.

  “Either you fix it or you stand in the gap while Libby teaches today. It’ll be your job to stop the horse bolting.”

  “Not happening.”

  Josh grinned. “Then finish the job.”

  Taylor tore his T-shirt over his head and tossed it onto the ground. It wasn’t very warm out, but the cotton was wet with sweat and had been clinging to his torso, chilling him more than the breeze. He stalked back toward the lump hammer and pile of wood, keeping his complaints low and muttering to himself.

  “You’ve got an hour before you’re a human fence.” Josh turned away with a small smile playing across his lips. “And as amusing as that would be, I don’t fancy the hospital bill when Candy tramples all over your ass.”

  Taylor frowned, speaking to his retreating uncle. “Is Candy another one of your friends, then? Like Libby?”

  Josh lifted his hand, batting away the comment. “It’s a horse, dumbass. And that horse will leave hoof-shaped bruises all over you if you don’t get to work.”

  Taylor’s blood boiled. He could do something as simple as fix a hole in the stupid fence. It didn’t take a genius to work it out.

  Spitting mad and driven by aggression, Taylor lined up another post and whacked it into the ground with a loud roar. He raised the lump hammer again and brought it down heavy on top of the wood. His muscles protested, but he refused to give in, thumping the hammer onto the post again and again until it was firmly embedded in the dirt.

  After lining up the next one, he ignored his deep gasps for breath and pounded the post into the ground far faster than the last. His groans of exertion echoed around the mountains surrounding the ranch, each rise of the hammer eliciting another deep grunt. He told himself he could do this. It was a menial task. He’d prove he was better than them all, and that he wasn’t ruled by the drug he’d used. They were wrong about him, and he’d make each and every one of them eat crow.

  A light cough behind him made him spin around, his hammer stalling high in the air. His chest heaved as he fought for breath, and when his arms shook, he lowered the hammer carefully to the ground. He squinted at the approaching redhead.

  “I brought water.”

  Taylor waited, watching the way Libby’s green gaze drifted over his naked torso. Her cheeks were tinged a rose pink, and the water rippled in the glass, but she didn’t look away.

  “Why didn’t Josh bring it out himself?”

  Her brows snapped together, little lines appearing between them. “Josh didn’t send it. I saw you from the kitchen window. You looked hot.”

  “Really? Good to know I do it for you.” he said, amused by the way she cringed. He waited for her to apologize or rush away, but Libby stood her ground. She looked him up and down, still holding out the water for him.

  “Are you going to take this?”

  He shrugged, dropping the hammer to the ground. Libby kept her eyes on him, and he took a step forward, licking his lips. “Why don’t you bring it to me?”

  “Because I’m not your maid,” she said, her eyes flaring. “I came with a peace offering, hoping you’d apologize for the way you spoke to Levi. I don’t actually like you.”

  Taylor took another step closer. “You don’t have to like me to appreciate the view.”

  The glass hit the ground hard. Libby snarled, turned, and stalked back toward the house. He could hear her mutterings, no doubt calling him every rude name she could think of. It made him laugh, and the urge to annoy her further had him shouting at her retreating back.

  “Drink me in, Blue. Lap up every damn inch of me and enjoy it while you can.”

  Chapter 4

  “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

  Taylor huffed, gripping the phone receiver. “That’s the only reason you called? To tell me you paid my debts?”

  “And that’s not enough? It was fifteen grand, Taylor,” Kyran said.

  Like he wasn’t already aware.

  “Thank you,” he replied, his tone terse.

  “Aw, that really felt like you meant it, bro. Covering for your ass yet again was a pleasure. My day was that much fucking brighter when I met your drug dealer and paid him off.”

  Taylor’s gut tightened. He wasn’t a complete asshole; he knew his brother was left to pick up the shattered pieces Taylor left behind. He’d known this all along, but his life had spiraled out of control so fast he couldn’t find anything to hold on to. He’d tried to stop the drugs. He’d stayed away from the nightclubs and even joined a gym, but it didn’t last long. One argument with his father had been all it took to send him free-falling again.

  Well, one argument and a lying member of his staff.

  “I’ve said thank you.”

  “And I should be happy with that?” Kyran asked.

  Fortunately, the sound of his father in the background gave him something else to focus on. “Dad’s with you?”

  “I’m at the office, Taylor. I need help because my inconsiderate moron of a brother isn’t around. Again. So, yes, Dad’s here.”

  Taylor gulped. “Can I talk to him?”

  Kyran grumbled and the line filled with the rustling sound of movement.

  “Something wrong, son?”

  “Can I come home?” He sounded like a forlorn child.

  “No,” his father answered.

  “But, Dad, I—”

  “Son, we have been over this.”

  “What if I promised to stay away from the clubs? My friends?”

  His father stayed silent, and Taylor panicked. He’d never get out of this town, never be able to leave the damn ranch. He’d tried everything, made his father all kinds of promises in the hope it would lead to his freedom. It hadn’t, and his father was being as harsh as ever. He never could please the great Jacob Reese.

  His father cleared his throat. “I explained what was going to happen—how we were to move forward. One of those points did not include you leaving Lone Tree early. I thought I made that very clear.”

  “This is all one big mess. It’s not as bad as the doctor said. I only used the stuff a few times.”

  “Save the lies. Bullshit won’t save you now, son. It’s pretty clear to everyone what has happened to you. I’m just sorry it took so long for us to act. If I’d have known—”

  “What?” Taylor said as he paced the floor of the living room. “You’d have done what? Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’d have done something. You wouldn’t have. You didn’t give a shit about me or Kyran after Mom died, so don’t try to play the doting father now. Your world revolves around Clara. The only time you pay any attention to me is when I cause problems for your wife.”

  “But you do cause problems for her,” Jacob said. “Every time you dismiss her, laugh at her. I’ve had this discussion with you and Kyran so many times it makes my head ache. You boys need to grow up and accept Clara and I are together. No amount of distaste from the two of you will stop that.”

  “We’re not children.”

  “Then stop acting like it.”

  Taylor kicked the side of the couch. “Hard to stop acting like one when I’m her
e—being yelled at.”

  “Your time at the Lone Tree has nothing to do with being yelled at and everything to do with your perpetual drug use. You almost killed yourself!”

  “I knew what I was doing,” he said. “I was fine.”

  “Oh yeah,” his father replied. “You looked like you were fine when Dale found you unconscious on the floor of the office bathroom, covered in white powder.”

  The urge to fling the phone across the room pulsed through his arm. His teeth gnashed together, and his fingers tightened around the receiver. “How do you know Dale didn’t plant that shit on me? Again, just like with Tori, you all assume. Not a one of you ask me what the truth is. When did you ask me, Dad?”

  “Dale didn’t lie. Stop clutching at straws. She tried to help you. She tried to cover for you when you messed up so bad we almost lost a major account. But it cost her. She argued with your brother and hasn’t been back to work since. You should be grateful that another person has paid for your stupidity. Check your attitude if you’d like to discuss anything else.”

  Taylor opened his mouth, ready to rage. He’d been hoping to try and talk his way back home and set things straight with Kyran, but it had all gone wrong. His father wasn’t going to back down now. Taylor would be stuck in the middle of nowhere until his uncle or father decided his time-out was over.

  “My attitude comes from the fact that you ignored me and my brother for years and then locked me away as soon as I caused you problems.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.” Jacob exhaled. “I refuse to keep going over the same issue. You’re not a prisoner on the ranch. You can leave whenever you want. However, I urge you to remember what will happen if you do.”

  He would be alone. It wasn’t much of a choice.

  His father would never understand him. They were like oil and water.

  It wasn’t as though his father got along with Kyran either. Those two had hated each other since the day Kyran found Jacob Reese fucking his assistant, the woman who had later become their stepmother, Clara. The Reese men would never get along. Each of them knew where it had started, and each of them had their own view on the downward spiral. When their father had married Clara, the situation simply heightened.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, Taylor closed his eyes. “You’ve made it more than clear that, should I choose to go, I’d lose it all. You’d disown me.”

  Silence spanned between them, and Taylor tapped his foot with impatience. His father was preoccupied with a low, muffled conversation with someone else. He wasn’t even listening.

  Anger burst through his body, bubbling in his veins. His vision tinged red and, as he raised the phone, ready to launch it across the room, something caught his attention. A flicker of movement by the door.

  His heart, already pounding hard against his chest, sped up. His eyes met a set of interested green ones. Libby.

  He glared at her before ending his phone call with the press of a button.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Nothing a couple of hours in oblivion wouldn’t fix.”

  She stepped forward, pushing her hands into the front pockets of her worn jeans. “Where’s that?”

  Taylor burst out laughing. He clutched his stomach, forgetting all about his conversation with his father and Kyran. “Priceless. Blue, that was utterly priceless.” He continued to laugh, putting on a high-pitched voice when he said, “Where’s that?”

  “Don’t mock me. And stop calling me Blue. My name is Libby.”

  “I know what your name is. Your comment was too funny to ignore. I’m laughing.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I can see that.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I’m laughing. Smiling. You made me smile.”

  Libby combed her fingers through her long hair and scowled. A part of him wanted to explain, to tell her why it was so amazing, but he held back. She wouldn’t want to know why he didn’t laugh often. Besides, it was none of her business. He wasn’t there to make friends.

  His smile faded fast and, without conscious thought, he mirrored her demeanor and placed his hands in his front pockets. This would be the moment to apologize for shouting at her kid. Josh would expect him to, and he did feel shitty for doing it.

  “I should—”

  “Who was—”

  Libby shot him a small smile, the corners of her lips barely turning upward. “Um, you first.”

  “Josh would tell me I should always allow the lady to go first.”

  “Is that not something you already know? Do you need your uncle to tell you that?”

  Taylor thought for a moment, intrigued that she never quite made eye contact with him. She looked everywhere but right at him. “I think we should leave that discussion for another time. I was about to say . . . I should apologize for the way I shouted at your kid.”

  “You should or you will?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Look, if you don’t want the apology, then fine. I gave it to you anyway.” He weaved around her, heading for the door.

  “You didn’t,” she said, her voice low. He spun around, the movement causing his hair to flop into his eyes. He blinked. “Excuse me?”

  She shifted from one foot to the other, staring over his shoulder. “You never really said sorry. You said you should apologize, but you didn’t say the words.”

  He gawked at her, certain he had said it. Hadn’t he? He battled for what to say next, and Libby crossed her arms. The woman might be uncomfortable looking him in the eye, but she did a good impression of acting like he didn’t intimidate her. He was rather impressed.

  “I would remember it—if you did say you were sorry. You don’t seem like the kind of person who says it often, so I’d commit it to memory.”

  “Sassy,” he said, his brain trying to think of a wittier retort. “And there’s no need to remember me. I’m right here, every wonderful inch.” He wiggled his brows and grinned.

  Libby sagged, her eyes rolling upward. “Forget the apology. It wouldn’t be sincere. I doubt you can even feel such a thing.”

  “And how do you know that?” he asked.

  “Because there is no room for anything but your damn ego,” she said, her vibrant eyes finally meeting his.

  His gut tightened, and this time it wasn’t due to the lack of drugs. The sensation came from something else entirely.

  Pushing it aside, he snorted. “You don’t even know me. You’ve been in my presence for what? Ten minutes max?”

  “Ten minutes was all it took for me to work out how self-absorbed you are.” She threw her arms out, palms up. “Why am I even wasting my time on you?”

  “I don’t know, Blue. I think it’s because you simply can’t help yourself.”

  Libby thrust out her chin. She moved toward him, determination shining in her eyes. Her red hair framed her intense expression, one that could kill if he looked too long. Medusa. She was Medusa and he was about to be turned to stone.

  Her finger prodded his chest, punctuating each word as she spoke. “Do. Not. Push. Me. My name is Libby.”

  “That’s some temper you have . . . Blue.”

  Her banshee’s wail was so high pitched it could crack glass, and all he could do was laugh. He’d gotten right under her skin. Maybe his time here wouldn’t be as boring as he’d first thought. A little light sparring would relieve the monotony. That’s if he got out of this one with his balls intact, because Libby looked set to tear them off.

  “I know what you’re doing, and you won’t get to me. I love Josh. He is the reason I’m backing away now, so go and thank your uncle.”

  He smiled. “You wouldn’t even leave a scratch, pussycat.”

  Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she walked from the room. He watched the gentle sway of her hips and the way her jeans fit snug against the globes of her ass. Thirsty, he licked his lips, pausing as she turned to look back at him.

  “You’re crazy. Completely loco. Screw your apology and stay out of my way. I�
�ll stay out of yours.”

  Taylor let her get to the door before shouting, “Motion denied! I like your space, Blue. I like it very much.”

  Libby raged, her pulse beating a rapid tattoo against her wrist. She’d heard Taylor’s little comeback but was too incensed to reply. She needed to find Josh. Warning him she was about to murder his nephew seemed wise.

  She walked with haste out of the house and down the porch steps, trying to ignore Taylor calling her back.

  “Blue? Stop, please?”

  Forcing herself forward, she crossed her arms over her chest and kept moving. He could save his smarm for someone who actually liked that kind of thing. She’d been on the receiving end of an ego before, and it hadn’t ended well for her.

  “Libby, come on, hear me out.”

  Twisting to face him, she scowled. “What? What can you possibly say to make your little routine back there acceptable?”

  “Routine?” The corner of his lip twitched but, lucky for him, he kept his smile at bay. “You think that was show?”

  “Oh, please. You want me to buy that your charm is just for me?” She kept her arms folded as she sighed with impatience.

  “If I say yes, will you stay and listen to me?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll say no.”

  Libby wanted to laugh, hating the way he amused her and pissed her off in equal parts. She shouldn’t like this man. He was an asshole with far more problems than she could handle.

  “Say whatever you want. It doesn’t matter to me.” She started to turn away from him when he placed his hand on her shoulder.

  “I think we got off to a bad start—”

  “I wonder why that is,” she said.

  Taylor held his hands up in surrender. “My fault. I get it. Look, I don’t want to be here, yet I have no choice. I’m annoyed. Frustrated.”

  Libby relaxed a little and tilted her head. “I doubt anyone is holding you hostage. Josh is strong, but he couldn’t hold you back if you wanted to leave.”

  “The manacles on my wrists are the invisible kind.” He shuffled, then rubbed his stomach as his face contorted.

  “Something wrong?”