Vote Then Read: Volume III

by Aleatha Romig

  “Over ten grand. Hey, man, you okay?”

  Fuck.

  The edges of my vision darkened, and I leaned against the wall to use it for support. “Fine. Didn't drink enough water today, I guess. Fucking hot out there.”

  “That's a Texas summer for you.”

  “I'll cover what he owes, but I need to know who they are.” Thinking back to Beks and how those men could’ve been there when she was made the tension worse. “I'll make the payment and make it clear that if they step one foot on my property again, I'll shoot first.”

  “And ask questions later.”

  “No. Bury their asses where the cows will shit on their graves.”

  A small smile pulled at the guy's lips. “Damn. I might like you after all, Graves. But you do know that girl out there is stubborn as hell and won't let Bradley take your money.”

  No shit. Thinking through the different ways to present the option to Beks lessened the darkening fog. Wow, just thinking about her cleared everything, which meant whatever was going on with my head was tied to her, but more than just our past because I'd remembered that part. Well, most of it. There were still pieces I didn't know.

  I glanced at my watch and cursed. If I was going to make her new time frame, I had to hustle.

  “I'll make it work. Listen, watch him and don't let that bastard of a father in here.” At the door, I gripped the frame and turned to look over my shoulder. “She won't tell me everything about what happened. Can you fill in any of the gaps?”

  Kyle looked past my shoulder into the empty hall. “All I know is for some fucked-up reason she's still hung up on you. What happened that night is y'all's story, not mine. She'll tell you when she's ready.” He paused to look me straight in the eye. “When she is, you better be ready to hate yourself as much as we all do.”

  14

  Rebeka

  Brenton must have sensed my foul mood, as not a word was spoken while we packed up the supplies and coolers in the Gator before heading out a little over thirty minutes ago. The last of the sun’s rays had dipped beneath the horizon, cloaking the property in the unending darkness. Dark clouds sprinkled the sky, but a few patches of stars still shone through.

  Sliding a hand off the wheel, I cradled my growling stomach. Skipping dinner in exchange for the time to take a shower was not the brightest idea I’d ever had. But a tiny piece of me hoped Brenton would make good on his promise from earlier, so a shower was the priority over food just in case. Having his gorgeous face between my thighs would make this never-ending day a lot less awful.

  To the east, flashes of light sparked across the sky, amplified by the billowing thunderheads. The weather channel reported the storms would stay east of us by a few counties, so we would be okay—if they were right for once.

  “Is it as pretty up there as it seems it would be?” I asked, breaking our comfortable silence and nodding to the sky. “Not sure how it would be possible.”

  He sighed and leaned back to perch his new boot on the dash. “Hard to believe, but yeah, it is. At sunset, it's almost like you can reach out and run your fingers through the colors pouring through the clouds.”

  “Do you like it? The flying?”

  “I like the control and sense of accomplishment it provides, plus the pride in serving my country. Every deployment, every successful mission… I can't describe the feeling. It just feels fucking fantastic, like nothing can touch me. It's how I used to feel at the height of a high.”

  My grip tightened on the steering wheel to maneuver the deep hog ruts in the makeshift road. “So you traded one high for another.”

  “I guess, but this one isn't illegal or harmful.”

  I lifted a shoulder in noncommittal agreement. “Maybe. Depends on what you have to keep doing to get to that high. How many more times will you reenlist? What will happen if you can't?”

  His lack of response told me he’d never thought of it that way.

  “You mentioned you like control,” I mused.

  “I don’t like control. I need it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I remember what it’s like to have none, and I won’t let that happen again.”

  “I can see that. Wonder if maybe Caleb's death left you feeling helpless because you couldn't stop it, couldn’t control the outcome. Not only that, but you weren't there when it happened, which made you feel even more impotent.”

  “Choose a different damn word.”

  The Gator bounced down the temporary road, shifting us side to side. Our thighs brushed, sending a jolt of warmth to spread. Damn, I was so on edge that if he just kissed me, I might explode.

  “Fine,” I said with a grin. “That could be it, but there's only one way to find out, and I have an idea.”

  He groaned and let his head fall back against the hard seat. “I don't know if I can take any more revelations from you today.”

  My growing smile fell.

  If he only knew.

  “Hey.” Reaching over, he grabbed my upper thigh and gave it a tight squeeze. “I didn't mean that. You can tell me anything. I'm dramatic.”

  “Can I get that on record?” I chuckled. “Fancy pants and dramatic. You've been in Dallas too long.”

  Instead of pulling his hand away, he inched it higher and slid his fingers inward to tuck them between my pressed thighs.

  Hell.

  “How can we test this theory of yours?”

  The tip of my ponytail swiped across my shoulders as I shook my head and pointed ahead. “We're almost there. Let’s set up, eat something before I gnaw my arm off, and then we can test my theory.”

  I parked the Gator at the edge of the herd we'd been with earlier and slid out to get the gun set up.

  “That's one sweet weapon,” Brenton said in awe as he took the AR from my hands. “Is that a night vision scope?”

  With a nod, I gently pulled it from his grasp and went back to situating the muzzle on the end of the barrel. “And a silencer. Wild hogs have become a problem on the property the past few years, and this gun, plus the gadgets, help Bradley take down several a night instead of one or two. It's the only way to attempt to control their growing population.”

  The hard plastic of the tailgate dug into my ass as I situated myself to reach into my cooler.

  “I can feel it,” Brenton said beside me.

  As I dug through the contents of my hastily packed cooler, I said, “What's that?”

  “The peace being out here offers.” He flicked on a flashlight, momentarily blinding me. “If you're hungry, I had Mrs. Hathway pack extra food. I assumed you weren't in the mood to eat earlier after patching up your beat-to-hell brother.”

  I eyed the contents of my cooler again. An old package of Pop-Tarts, a half-opened bag of chips, peanut butter crackers, and five packages of Little Debbie Zebra Cakes stared back at me. His light moved to my face, and I shielded it from my eyes with a raised hand. “Yeah, that'd be great. I didn't pack as much as I thought I did.”

  As he pulled out the two sandwiches and waters, I kicked my legs back and forth beneath the tailgate and smiled in the dark. His warm hand lingered on my lap when he set the food down.

  At the first bite into the homemade club sandwich, a moan escaped around the somehow still crispy bread.

  “Did you moan about a sandwich?”

  Between ravenous bites, I said, “It's like a fucking orgasm of flavors in my mouth. Damn, I wish I was rich.”

  His loud laugh echoed through the sparse trees and caught on the breeze. “An orgasm of flavors.” He chuckled and took another bite of his sandwich.

  I flipped the flashlight off and looked up to the cloudy sky. “Huh.”

  “What?” he asked around a mouthful of food.

  “The clouds seem to be getting closer than I expected. Are you ready for my enlightening thought on your condition now?”

  “We're hunting a cat. Shouldn't we, I don't know, stay quiet?”

  “Fine,” I grumbled as I polished off
the sandwich and tossed the trash into my cooler. Using my palms as leverage, I scooted back into the bed to lean against the cab. AR resting on my lap, I became transfixed on the surrounding darkness, looking up every so often to the few visible stars.

  “I wonder if the stars are up there talking about us.”

  “Huh?”

  “The stars. Some of them are old enough to remember us doing this as kids. I wonder if they're up there jumping up and down that we're back enjoying the peace they offer for free, or if they’re turning their back and pouting because we've been away for so long, taking their eternal beauty for granted.”

  Another gust of wind whipped around us, shifting my hair to the side and sending a chill down my bare arms.

  “I think,” he said after settling beside me, “they're proud they can still burn bright for people like us. Kids who grew up needing their light and have come back to appreciate them, maybe even thank them.”

  As we sat there gazing, more clouds rolled in, covering what few stars were left for us to watch.

  “Between your dad and mine, we used those stars, didn't we?” I breathed.

  We both paused at a loud snap nearby. Gun pressed against my shoulder, I situated the night vision scope against my eye and swept the area, searching for the source.

  “Huh.” I set the gun down across my lap and leaned forward for the flashlight. Shining it toward the herd, I showed Brenton what I'd seen and found odd.

  The entire herd was lazily moving as a group toward the direction of the main barn.

  That was when I felt it. A low pulse settled in the back of my skull at the quick barometer shift just as the wind shifted with a strong gust.

  “Fuck,” I shouted and jumped from the Gator to dismantle the gun accessories. “We need to get out of here. The damn weather guys got it wrong. Again.”

  Another gust of mighty wind blew, sending Brenton jumping from the bed to help. With the gun safely packed away and everything covered in the back, I slammed the tailgate shut.

  The first drop of rain hit my forearm as I climbed into the passenger side of the Gator.

  “I don't think we have time to get back to the barn,” I yelled over the rumble of thunder and now howling wind. A bolt of lightning several miles away zipped down, lighting up the sky. “We need to find cover away from the river in case of a flash flood.”

  “Where?” Brenton shouted back as he turned the key.

  “There's a little shelter for this kind of thing.” Glancing down at the compass on my watch, I pointed west. “That way.”

  It only took a few minutes to get there, but by the time we made it to the basic structure, the lightning had grown close and filled the sky with quick, jagged bolts. Sheets of rain pounded against the thin tin roof above us seconds after we pulled in. With the earlier snake scare still fresh in my memory, I spotlighted every inch of the dusty floor—twice—before stepping out.

  Brenton stood along the front of the shelter with his shoulder pressed against a support beam, watching the downpour. A cool mist blew in, leaving a damp sheen along my exposed arms and face. Even with the warm temperature, a shiver shook my shoulders at the contrast between the two.

  Another spark of lightning illuminated the sky, followed by a resounding crack of thunder.

  “You learn to have a healthy respect for storms like this as a pilot. They can pop up anytime, or sometimes you even have to fly directly into one to complete a mission.” He sighed and cracked his knuckles. “I miss it. Miss them, my brothers. But….” The next flash of lightning showed Brenton's attention fixed on me instead of the storm. “This, us, will be a challenge to walk away from. Maybe me not remembering was my mind’s way of protecting myself from the greatness of what I had to leave behind to outrun my addictions. But which was the greater cost? Losing the addictions, or losing you?”

  The thud of the tailgate falling was eliminated by the pounding rain all around us. Situating myself on the edge, I kicked my boots under me and focused out into the darkness. “You chose the route that cost less monetarily. But think about this—you also wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't walked away. You can't make amends dead. And that's what would’ve happened. Just look at your brother. Look at what almost happened to mine.”

  “About that.” The Gator jostled under his massive weight as he sat to my right. “I'm paying off the money Bradley owes, and you're not going to say two shits about it. It was Caleb's debt, and I won't allow your brother, or you, to pay for it.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled. “Figured that was coming, so I'd already mentally prepared myself for it.”

  His shoulder nudged mine. “Something tells me you like orders more than you let on.”

  A broad smile he couldn’t see broke across my cheeks. “You have no idea, but hopefully, one day, you will. Now that we aren't hunting and we have some time on our hands, I'll tell you the revelation I had on your head stuff earlier. This will be hard to hear for someone like you, so prepare yourself.”

  The bed shifted beneath us as he wiggled around. Light from the next flick of lightning revealed him on his back, a hand tucked behind his head.

  “Ready as I'll ever be. Hope this works.”

  My fingers skimmed across the rugged plastic in search of his. I sealed my eyes shut when my fingertips touched the soft skin of his forearm. Up and down I brushed along the solid muscle, savoring each inch. Reaching his fingers, I laced his with mine and set our connected hands on his strong thigh.

  “Here it goes. You actually have zero control over the things you think you do.” His fingers tightened around mine, cutting off the circulation. “I know that’s hard to hear, but for a control freak like you, you're under this false sense of security that you can control outcomes, control other people’s actions. You have to let go of the weight you're carrying from Caleb's death. It wasn't your fault, Brenton. Caleb made his own choices, just like you did. Just like I did. The only control in this world we truly have is in what we say, how we make others feel, our thoughts and actions. Outside of that, no one has control. No one. Not even rich, arrogant men like you. Stop fighting it. Accept it and try to move on.”

  The near-deafening beat of the rain around us filled the small space.

  “I could've done more,” he choked out. “Hell, I have more money than most countries and still…. Maybe if I wouldn't have left—”

  “Stop. You think you had control over the outcome, over your brother's actions? You didn't. It was all Caleb's choice. You loved him and didn't give up on him. That's all you could do.” Ass growing achy, I stood and maneuvered my hips between his spread knees. “You know how, before takeoff, the flight attendant says, 'Put your oxygen mask on before assisting others—‘”

  “Do they say that?”

  “Seriously? You've never listened?”

  “I've never flown commercial. It's either been private or military for me.”

  “Wow. Skip fancy pants. You just moved yourself up to Sir Fancy Pants. Anyway, yes, they do say that. At least they did the one time I flew. And that's what you did when you left. You put your mask on first. You can't save someone if you're suffocating too. And not only that, B. You can give someone the mask, but you can't make them breathe.”

  “I'm just so fucking angry. Angry at myself, at Dad—hell, at the world. I don't know how to let it go. Every time I think about my past—”

  Gripping his thighs, I squeezed them hard to get him to stop talking. “Brenton, your past does not define you. My past sure as hell doesn't define me. It molded us, yes, but it's not who we are now. For me, being the brunt of Daddy's frustrations and the cause of everything wrong in the world isn't who I am, but it made me stronger, I think.”

  Damn, this was confusing. When did it become my therapy session too?

  “Beks,” he said, barely louder than the pounding rain.

  I shifted closer to his lips, my heart hammering against my chest at our proximity and position. “Yeah?”

  “Don't
take this the wrong way, but I don't think I'll ever recover from this.”

  15

  Rebeka

  A booming pop of thunder had the small shelter shuddering. I jumped out of reflex and turned to gaze into the pitch-black night to avoid the emotions his words invoked.

  “Sorry,” I said, shifting to lean my ass against the tailgate. “Thought it would help.”

  Wide hands slid up the back of my arms, creating goose bumps in their wake. A small gasp escaped past my lips at his warm breath against the sensitive skin of my neck.

  “Not that. This, being with you. How do I walk away from someone as amazing as you?”

  My next word was out before I could think better of it. “Don't.”

  “I have to.” A gasp pushed past my parted lips at the brush of his against the shell of my ear. “I don't want to hurt you again.”

  “I'm a big girl now, B. I can handle myself, and this time I know you're leaving. Last time it was a shock, and I resented you because I expected more.”

  “Is this you giving me permission?” he whispered into my hair with a deep inhale.

  The utter darkness enveloping us hid any lingering anxieties I had. In that shed, I could have the fantasy nights I'd dreamed about the past several years. Would I regret it? Probably, but then again, I'd regret not having this moment with him just as much.

  “This is me begging you.”

  There was no holding back my throaty groan of pleasure at his teeth nipping my earlobe.

  “There’s still so much I want to know.”

  His roaming hands skimmed down my waist. Unabashed desire flooded my veins at the sensation of burning heat that soaked through from his chest to my back. Eyes shuttering closed, I relished in each inch of skin he touched.

  “We still have time,” I breathed. No way could we stop now to chat.

  The soft tip of his tongue lazily skimmed down the length of my neck, pausing at my collarbone before sucking the delicate flesh between his lips. My hands tightened around his thighs to steady my trembling legs.