by Susana Mohel
I hear Walter unzipping his jeans.
“Don’t you dare touch me, you sick asshole,” I yell with renewed panic, using every last bit of my strength to kick and struggle.
“LET. HER. GO!” A voice suddenly roars from behind us.
Thank God. Joel’s finally turned up, just in the nick of time.
But Walter doesn’t seem deterred, he even has the nerve to laugh, as he roughly grabs my hair to twist us round and face Joel. The ice-cold fury in Joel’s eyes certainly intimidates me, yet doesn’t seem to worry Walter. The excessive amount of alcohol in his system must be skewing his judgment.
“Johnny! Milton!” he calls to his buddies, and out of the corner of my eye, I see them lining up opposite Joel.
“Cassandra, call 911! Get the law out here, now!” Joel shouts, twisting his head but not taking his eyes off me or Walter. So, she’s with him. I don’t understand why, but at least she can make herself useful.
As Cassandra steps into my line of sight, I see her making the call on her cell phone and begin explaining the situation to the dispatcher.
“You better tell that red-haired whore to hang up or I’ll slit this little lady’s throat,” Walter threatens, holding his knife up to my neck again.
“Don’t you dare hang up, Cassie,” Joel orders. “Tell them we need all available emergency services here ASAP.”
But since it’s going to take them a while to get here, and it’s three against one, it still looks as if this is not going to end well. Just like in the movies, my whole life flashes before me. Memories, laughter, regrets, tears. Everything the future might have held for me, for us, is about to be wiped out. Suddenly it’s all too much and I can’t take any more.
Joel sees I’m about to fall apart, but his eyes plead with me to hold on, not to lose hope.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see several ranch hands lining up behind Joel.
He has back up.
In the next instant, all hell breaks loose, and the mother of all fights is going down.
In one fluid movement, Joel launches himself at Walter to grab the arm that’s holding the knife at my neck. Walter still tries to lash out at me before he’s forced to drop the knife and relinquish his grip on me. Joel punches him to the ground, while behind him the other two guys are also taken out. The bullies may have been able to easily overpower me, but in truth, they are flabby and out of condition, and the fight soon goes out of them once they encounter some real men.
As soon as Walter’s lying on the floor out of contention, I launch myself at Joel, needing his strong arms around me to convince me I really am safe. Joel catches me as I grab his shirt, melting into him to escape from this hell I walked into. His arms tighten around me and I lose myself in his warmth, his scent, his everything.
My rock.
My Joel.
“The police are on their way, ETA less than five minutes.” Cassandra’s annoying, irritating voice snaps me out of my cozy cocoon, reminding me that I am furious, both with her, but especially with Joel.
“Let me go.” I shove away from him, but he stands firm and won’t let me out of his arms.
“I need to take a closer look at that cut on your neck, honey. It might need stitches,” he says, brushing my hair out of the way.
Adrenalin means I’ve forgotten about my injury, but when I tentatively reach up to touch my wound, my fingertips discover blood.
“Let me go, Joel,” I still insist, my pride kicking in. “I need some space. I can’t breathe properly and you’re crowding me.”
Joel reluctantly lets me out of his arms, but we have a face off instead. His eyes appear to be filled with concern and something else I can’t quite pin down. I could almost believe he actually cares for me... don’t fall for his act, Tara. However convincing it may be, it’s still an act. You can’t trust him. Remember what you heard with your own ears just a short while ago? He’s made plans with Cassandra and they don’t include you.
Renewed rage courses through me. He’s been deceiving me all along, not only about Cassandra and the baby, but about my ranch, and his plans to sell it.
“Tara, come on, honey, let me take care of you...” he gently croons, approaching me cautiously as if I were a cornered animal.
“No. Keep away. Don’t touch me, Joel,” I warn.
“Tara...” he says evenly, but the tight clenching of his jaw muscle gives away his frustration. “Let’s go back up to the house while we wait for the police, and then I can take a proper look at that cut. You’ve been through one heck of an ordeal and you need to calm down and rest.”
“Rest? Yeah, actually that’s right, I do need a rest. From you. And her. Especially her.” I glare and point at Cassandra. “So, I’m going back to the house, where I’m going to take a long, hot soak in the tub, and afterward, I expect her gone, and I don’t ever want to see her on my property again.”
“Actually, Tara, as a matter of fact, I should point out that you have no authority to ban me from the ranch, since this is now Joel’s property,” the bitch challenges me, standing there gloating with her hands on her hips.
Who the hell does she think she is? I’m about to launch myself to deal her a good bitch slapping, but Joel steps in between us and restrains me. At least he seems to think she’s overstepped the mark too.
“For God’s sake, Cassandra, back off! This is neither the time or place! Tara has more than enough to deal with. Plus, the police will be here any minute to take her statement and deal with those pieces of shit.” Joel glares at Walter and his cohorts where they’re trussed up on the floor.
Right on cue, loud sirens and flashing blue and red lights announce the arrival of all kinds of emergency vehicles and patrol cars. They’ve obviously gone all out in their response, so much so that all that’s missing is a helicopter hovering overhead with a SWAT team abseiling down. I giggle hysterically at the absurdity of it all—talk about one extreme to the other.
Uniformed officers scramble out of their vehicles, weapons drawn as they make a quick assessment of the situation. Joel fills them in with a succinct summary of how events unfolded, about the injuries I sustained, how Cassandra and the other ranch hands can verify events.
“We need to get you checked over as a matter of priority,” the police officer in charge orders, indicating the house porch. “A doctor is waiting over there for you, Miss.”
“This is my wife, so it’s Mrs. Sadger,” Joel immediately corrects the officer. Possessive much?
“I see. Well, Mrs. Sadger, let’s get you seen to, shall we?” The officer rolls his eyes at Joel’s correction before leading me to where the doctor is waiting.
Joel sticks by my side the entire time, watching like a hawk as I’m checked over. The doctor takes photos of my injuries as supporting evidence, and Joel frowns angrily when he sees the ugly bruises already appearing on my arms, frowning even more deeply when he sees the cut on my neck close up, which has at least stopped bleeding.
“Your wound isn’t that deep, so it doesn’t require stitches, and should heal up nicely on its own,” the doctor pronounces once he’s prodded and poked at my sore neck. “I’ll prescribe you some more of the antiseptic gel I’m applying. Keep the area clean and dry, change the dressing daily, and reapply the gel liberally to aid healing and alleviate any scarring.”
“Shouldn’t my wife be taken to hospital for a complete physical, rather than make do with just a hasty patch up job in the yard of the house?” Joel intervenes. I don’t think he’s very impressed by the rather good-looking young doctor’s swift appraisal of my condition. “Especially if there’s a risk of scarring or other long-term effects, I want her taken to hospital for a thorough examination by the top specialist.”
He’s overreacting about a nasty scratch, but I guess it’s sweet of him to be so concerned. However, the last thing I need is Joel getting detailed reports about my condition when I know I’m lucky to have kept him in the dark so far.
“Joel, I’m fine. I do
n’t need to go to the hospital, and I don’t need to see another doctor,” I try my best to convince him. “Right now, all I want is to take a nice warm bath and rest for a while, then I’ll be right as rain.” After the day I’ve had, I’m both mentally and physically exhausted. I don’t want to be taken anywhere, and I really don’t want to see anyone else.
“You can do that later, once you’ve been properly checked out at the hospital,” Joel stubbornly insists.
The doctor intervenes. “Mr. Sadger, I understand that you’re concerned about your wife, but I assure you that as long as she rests up for a few days, and if required, takes the painkillers I’ll prescribe, then she should be fine. If that turns out not to be the case, then, by all means, bring her along to the hospital.”
“But why take the chance? Why not take her now to be on the safe side?” Joel argues.
This is getting ridiculous.
“I feel fine, Joel, so stop making such a fuss over nothing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m heading back to the house.” I grit my teeth to ignore the lightheadedness that washes over me when I stand, paying no heed to Joel’s protests. Silly man, does he not see that he’s making this harder for me rather than easier?
“Mrs. Sadger, I have all the information I need,” the police officer comes over to inform me. “Your husband has provided us with all the relevant details, so we’ll be in touch should we require anything else. Hopefully, it won’t prove necessary for you to come down to the station at this time.”
Walter and his sidekicks are nowhere to be seen, presumably having been taken into custody, but police officers are still milling around, taking pictures, measurements and so forth.
“That’s great, thanks,” I murmur. All I want is to escape to my room, to be left in peace. I close my eyes against the wave of faintness washing over me.
“I’ve got you.” Joel sweeps me up in his strong arms, obviously intent on carrying me back to the house.
“Joel, this really isn’t necessary. Put me down.” My voice is feeble from sheer exhaustion.
“Tara, you’re on the verge of collapsing, which is hardly surprising considering what you’ve been through, and I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself again.” He tightens his grip on me.
“I’ll scream if you don’t put me down right this minute,” I threaten.
Police are still swarming around the place, so that’d get their attention.
“Scream if you must,” Joel calmly replies. “I’ll just tell everyone you’re going into delayed shock, and then we’ll end up at the hospital. Which is my preferred option anyway, so I win.”
“What is it with you and always having to win?” I sigh, realizing it’s futile to continue arguing with this stubborn man.
He grins, as he hefts me more securely into his arms and starts walking back to the house.
“Basic human nature, Tara. No one wants to lose.”
“Okay, Joel, so how about you tell me exactly what it is that you don’t want to lose? The ranch? Why don’t you drop your fake caring act, and fill me in on your real intentions?” I may be feeling physically weak, but I’m still able to attack him verbally, to let him know I’m not the naïve and gullible young girl he once knew.
His step falters a little at my accusatory words.
But before he can respond, Cassandra interrupts from behind. Why the fuck is she following us up to the house when I couldn’t have made myself any clearer that I wanted her gone?
“Do you need me for anything else, Joel? I’m more than happy to help out, since poor little Tara’s obviously incapacitated after her silly run in. You know, I can’t help wondering—what was she thinking going to the men’s living quarters on her own anyway?”
I’m fuming at her inference that the attack was somehow my fault, and also that she’s talking to Joel as if I wasn’t here. ‘Poor little Tara?’ I’m going to give that bitch such a slap down to prove I’m not too ‘incapacitated’ to wipe that smug look off her face. I growl and squirm as I try my hardest to escape from Joel’s arms, but he just tightens his grip and presses my head into his chest to muffle my protests and prevent me starting the cat fight I’m more than willing to instigate with her.
He just calls over his shoulder,
“No, we’re all good here, Cassie. Go home. We’ll be fine, I’ll take care of everything.”
I somehow manage to hold my tongue until we’re in the house, but then I let rip.
“Thank you so much for that demonstration of your Alpha-maleness, but you can put me down now. I don’t need you. I don’t need your help. I can look after myself. I’ve no intention of popping my clogs just yet (God willing), because making you a widower would make things far too convenient for you. But what we will be doing is getting a divorce,” I declare as he finally puts me down. I fold my arms over my chest and glare up at him. Damn him for being so much taller than me as it means he can effortlessly dominate me just by standing there and making me crick my neck up to him.
“What the hell are you talking about, woman? Do you have a concussion or something?” Joel growls back. “We’ve only been married a day, and we’re certainly not getting divorced.”
“Oh, yes we are, moron. I can’t stand to be married to you for a second longer than necessary.”
“Are you crazy?” He raises his voice. “You’re the one who came to me, remember? Have you already forgotten the deal we agreed on to get the ranch back on its feet?”
“No, I most certainly haven’t. Whereas you, on the other hand, just one day into this marriage, already seem to have forgotten what you promised. So I want out. I want a divorce.”
He stares at me furiously and I return the look, refusing to be cowed.
“Not happening, Tara. For better or worse, you are my wife. You will continue to be my wife. You will not be leaving me, and there will be no divorce.” he states firmly.
“I disagree.”
“I don’t care whether you agree or not. That’s how it’s going to be.”
“We. Are. Done.”
“No. We. Aren’t”
By now we are virtually nose to nose shouting at each other, passions and emotions running dangerously high.
Love and hate, two sides of the same coin.
Suddenly, he backs me up against the wall and traps me there with his lean, hard body. His large hands cradle my head, holding me in place as he resorts to kissing me to shut me up.
We battle our demons, warring against each other, fighting and battling for control. His tongue duels with mine. The layers of clothes do nothing to conceal our desire for each other. My body calls to him, and his to mine. If we let things continue to their natural conclusion, if we give in to the release of passionate angry sex that our bodies are screaming for, it would be mind-blowingly amazing in the heat of the moment, of that I have no doubt. But when the passion dies down again, then what? Back to square one, with nothing resolved, that’s what. Which is why I can’t let my treacherous body concede control to him, I can’t give him that advantage.
I come to my senses and push him away.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss as I slap his face, my chest heaving from the warring emotions.
His jaw clenches as his fingers wrap tightly around my wrist to slowly pull me to him. “Don’t you ever slap me again, Tara. You have no grounds for complaint. You can’t claim you didn’t know what you were signing up for, because I told you right from the start that you would be my wife in every sense of the word, including obeying me in every way. You knew what you were signing up for and you went ahead. So, there’s no way out, no get out of jail free card, no fake marriage. Get used to it. No divorce. Not happening. This marriage is for real, and you don’t get to walk away.”
“Well, if I’m your wife, then where does your beloved Cassandra fit into all this? Why are you so intent on remaining my husband when you two obviously share some kind of close connection? She’s made it only too clear that she’d be thrilled to get you all to
herself, so she can have you. But guess what? She doesn’t get to have my ranch too. No fucking way.”
That leaves him stunned.
I fling the hall door open and almost make my escape, but before I can make it as far as the stairs, Joel jams his foot in the door to prevent it slamming closed.
“Not so fast! What the fuck are you talking about?”
I run to the stairs to escape from him, but he’s right behind, his long legs taking the stairs two at a time.
He’s not going to let it drop.
Fine.
I turn and face him.
“I’m talking about earlier today, Joel. Think back, and I’m sure you’ll work out why this marriage is over.”
“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play me for a fool. Don’t go acting the innocent, pretending you have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“Tara, if it’s because of the painting...”
“Oh, what’s the point,” I yell. Exasperated by his refusal to acknowledge that he’s been plotting behind my back, I throw my hands in the air and turn once more to storm off to my room. But with a quick movement, he catches me by the waist and pulls me back into his hard body.
“Let me go!” I struggle to break free, but Joel effortlessly restrains me with one hand, forcing me to look at him with his other.
“You’re going to tell me what you think is going on and you’re going to tell me now,” he grounds out slowly.
“I heard you talking to Cassandra,” I growl, furious that he’s still acting the innocent.
“And what exactly was it you think you heard?” He quirks his eyebrow and goddamn if that isn’t as sexy as hell. So not fair.
“You know perfectly well what you talked about with that bitch.” I refuse to be distracted by the strong carnal attraction that’s always there between us. It’s just physical, it means nothing.
“Honey, maybe you really do have some kind of delayed shock, ‘cause I am still clueless as to what’s gotten you so riled…” he drawls in that sexy way of his, but I cut him off. He is not going to get around me that way.