by Becky McGraw
“Calm down, tiger,” Heather said with a laugh that inched Ryan’s anger up a notch. This woman didn’t seem to know exactly how bad this situation was. “Don’t bite the hand that can help us. Leon can’t stand Jared either. Just puts up with him, because…well, I don’t know why exactly, but he does.”
“I need a ride. My truck’s been towed and my damned wallet is in it.”
“Where are you?” Heather asked.
“Outside the front of the hospital. I need to get out of here before Zack gets here, or there won’t be anything left of me to take care of Jared Wilkins. I’ll meet you on the west side of the hospital.” If he stayed outside the emergency room, he knew he’d run into Zack.
“Twyla’s brother?” Heather asked with a laugh. “You scared of him? He’s not all that big and bad. He’s just an uptight asshole.”
“No, I’m not scared of him, I just don’t want to fight with him. That man is as close to a brother as I’ll ever get. And he is not an uptight asshole, Zack is just…” Well, Ryan had to admit Zack could be an uptight asshole at times.
Heather laughed. “I’m on my way. Ten minutes.”
The line disconnected, and Ryan shoved his phone in his pocket. His eyes snagged on a familiar truck waiting in line to turn into the parking lot, and quickened his steps. He flew around the corner, and stood with his back against the wall between a row of tall hedges. He didn’t let down his guard until nine minutes later Heather’s truck rounded the corner and stopped. He saw her looking around the lot, and stepped out of the bushes. He glanced around himself for Zack as he walked to the truck and got inside.
“Whew, that was close,” he said resting his head on the back of the seat.
“You really are a chicken, aren’t you?” Heather needled, as she put the truck in gear. “I’m glad I could come and save your sorry ass. It’s worth it to see you like this, Mr. Bad Ass Cowboy.” Heather leaned forward over the wheel to look left and right, before merging into traffic, then looked over at him with a smug grin. “I’ll loan you my mace if it’ll make you feel better.”
“I’m not a fucking chicken. My ribs are busted! I got stomped on by a damned bronc last night. I don’t need to be stomped on by Zack too,” Ryan growled, pinning her with a lethal stare.
This woman was just irritating, and aggravating and seemed to enjoy it. She had no filter between her brain and damned mouth. Either that or she really didn’t give a shit what people thought of her. A lot like Twyla, but at least Twyla had more couth and somewhat of a filter. Not much more, but some. Twyla teased him as well, where Heather didn’t, she was just brash and abrasive. Heather wasn’t flirty at all, thank God. That was one woman he wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. But Twyla he would touch, ten times today and twice on Sunday.
Ryan’s feelings for the beautiful woman he’d tried to think of as a sister for so long had definitely transitioned into more. It was more than brotherly, more than hot sex. Since Twyla had been gone he realized something. When she wasn’t around, he just didn’t feel right. When she left him, it seemed like she had pulled the spark plug out of his life. He was still living it, he just had no pep or energy. Like the broncs he spurred to get reactions and more points from during his ride, Twyla spurred him. That’s exactly what it was like. She spurred him to do better, be better and face and feel things he’d otherwise hide from.
Like the fact that he’d been in love with the girl for ten years.
Ryan was going to do something about that, just as soon as he fixed this and the slight problem that her family now hated him. They were a very close family unit. Having any kind of relationship with Twyla would be impossible unless he convinced the Taylors he wasn’t the scum of the earth.
They drove a few minutes, then Heather picked up her cell phone from the console and cursed. “I was going to try to call Leon again, but my phone is dead. I forgot to pick up my charger on the way out the door.”
Ryan lifted up and pulled his out of his pocket. He shoved it at her. “Use mine.”
That would give him Leon’s number too, so if he had to track the man down later himself he could. Another avenue to get in touch with Twyla too, just in case. He hoped he never had to call that man though. Ryan was going to do his best to make sure Twyla never stepped foot in the Crazy Cowgirl again. Maybe she would listen now, because of what happened to her. If he couldn’t convince her, maybe her family could. Since they knew now, maybe she would feel differently about working there.
He sure as hell hoped that was the case.
Heather dialed, cradled the phone to her ear, and whistled. Ryan’s eyes shot over to her, as she said, “Thank, God, Leon. I thought I was going to have to get a bloodhound to find you. I need to know where I can find Jared Wilkins.”
She pursed her mouth and listened for a minute, and Ryan held his breath.
“I know I don’t need to be around him, but he tried to rape Twyla last night. I need to find him.”
More silence followed that inched up Ryan’s agitation to know what was going on.
“Leon, I’m not going to do anything stupid. The cops need to know where he is so they can arrest his scummy ass.” She rolled her eyes, and then said, “I can’t help it if he has photos. You’ll just have to deal with Layla if it happens. But I promise I won’t tell him you told.”
Huffing out a breath, Heather pushed the button to disconnect the call, and threw the phone into the console of the dash. “Damn, Leon and the shit he gets himself into,” she grumbled. “He’s a good man mostly, he’s just stupid like most men are.”
Heather sure had a low opinion of the male gender. Ryan wondered what in the hell had happened to her to cause it, but he had other things to worry about. Like what information she’d gotten from Leon. “What the hell was that about?” Ryan sat up straighter in his seat, and turned to face her. “Did you find out where Wilkins is?”
“Yeah, I found out. Bastard must shit where he sleeps. He has a trailer parked behind his strip club.”
It didn’t matter to Ryan, but he was too curious not to ask. “What was that he said about photos?”
Heather glanced at him and frowned. “None of your business,” she said shortly. “Doesn’t have anything to do with this situation. Besides, we have more important things to discuss.” She glanced over at him with a mischievous grin stretching her full lips. “I think I know how we can keep you out of jail, but still pay that asshole back.”
Because of what happened with his stepfather previously, serving time was a very real possibility if he got caught this time. He wasn’t keen on spending time in jail or adding to his record, but he wasn’t letting that stop him. One way or another he was going to stomp Jared Wilkins ass into the ground. But if Heather had other ideas, he was definitely going listen.
“Spill it. I’m listening.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Something was wrong. Twyla’s throat hurt, and she felt like her head was stuffed with cotton. Every inch of her body hurt. Did she have the flu? She didn’t remember being sick. But her brain was so foggy, she didn’t remember much anyway. Dragging her eyes open, it felt to her like sandpaper lined the inside of her eyelids. They scraped as she pried them open.
The first thing she saw was a man in a white coat leaning over her. Next her eyes slid to the man standing beside him with tears in his eyes. Her daddy. She’d never seen him cry before, but slow tears rolled down his face.
Fear shot through her. Had somebody died? She tried to talk, but nothing would come out. Her hand flew up to her throat to massage her vocal chords.
“Water,” she managed to croak. Her throat felt raw, and slick it was so dry.
A glass immediately appeared on her left side, held by her mother. Twyla reached for it, but couldn’t lift her arm. She looked down and saw her left arm was in a splint. Her eyebrows pinched as she reached her right hand across her body to take the glass. She put the cup to her lips and drank greedily. The water flowed down her throat reviving it l
ike the brown grass of winter by the first spring rain. She drank the last drop, then tried to smile, but her lips felt cracked, so she flattened them back out.
What the hell happened to her?
“Where am I?” she asked, looking past her mother at the supply station against the wall. She was evidently in the hospital for some reason.
“You don’t remember what happened?” her daddy asked, seeming a little relieved.
Twyla searched her blank memory and nodded. Whatever it was must’ve been bad gauging from the look on her daddy’s face.
“That’s typical, Mr. Taylor,” the doctor interjected, then cleared his throat. “The drug she was given causes that. But the good news, it’s out of her system now. Her memory will improve, and she’ll regain her strength very fast—”
“Drug?!?” Twyla screeched, trying to sit up, but then falling back against the pillow.
“Yeah, darlin’. Some bastard gave you a roofie.”
Twyla had heard that term at the bar before. Had been warned never to take drinks from anyone other than the bartender, and to never leave it unattended on a table or the bar. Her mind ticked back to the last thing she could remember. She’d gone out to watch Heather’s gig, and had had a beer, but she had bought it, drank it at the table. Then that agent had bought her a beer.
Good God had that man drugged her?
“Jared slipped something in my beer?” she asked incredulously.
“He did more than that, sweetie,” her mother said, her hand dropping on Twyla’s shoulder. “But you’re alive. That’s what’s important. The police will get him.”
“How did I get banged up?” Twyla focused on her lower regions and didn’t feel sore there, so she figured she at least wasn’t raped.
Her daddy’s lips wobbled, and he cleared his throat. “He assaulted you in the parking lot of his strip bar, and you fought back.” He ran his hand over his beard-roughened face, and a tremor shook him. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl. You got yourself out of what could’ve been a very bad situation. If Ryan had told us what you were doing before now, none of this would’ve happened.”
A shot of adrenaline when through her, and Twyla wasn’t foggy anymore. “What I was doing?” she asked, playing dumb, because she prayed it wasn’t what she thought. Oh, God. Her daddy knew she’d been dancing at the Crazy Cowgirl, and Lord only knew what else, if Ryan was the one doing the telling, and it looked like he was.
Twyla glanced at her mother, and those blue eyes that usually held patience and love, narrowed and heated. “Don’t play dumb, Twy—we know what you’ve been doing.” Her gaze darted to her husband across the bed, then she looked back at Twyla. “You should be ashamed of yourself. I know we raised you better than that. Your grandmother is going to be very disappointed when she hears too.”
If Ryan had told us before now what you were doing…
Twyla was sure he hadn’t sold himself out though by telling them he was her first lover, had used his knowledge of her dancing to try and blackmail her into having sex with him.
Blinding anger hitched a ride with the adrenaline coursing through her. Telling them was right on the tip of her tongue. But she stopped herself, because that would most likely mean none of them would ever speak to him again. And having any kind of relationship with the man would be impossible. She just couldn’t make herself do that.
One thing was for sure though. Ryan Easter needed to choose a side, either brother or lover. Riding the fence had just gotten splinters in his ass. Twyla was choosing the side for him now. Brother. She was done with that man as anything other than that. And the brother role was even questionable now. If she got her hands on him, she was most likely going to kill him, or at least make him wish he were dead.
Another thought hit Twyla.
If her parents knew, the odds were Zack knew too. He was probably twice as mad as her parents. The odds were he was hunting down Ryan right now. Another layer of fear plopped down on the mountain in her chest. Her brother could be a bear sometimes, especially when it came to her. If Zack knew too, Ryan could very well be getting his ass kicked somewhere.
Both of them would likely end up in jail, or right here in this hospital bed with her. They had rodeo careers to think of, but she knew from past experience that wasn’t their first concern when they were pissed at each other.
“Where are Zack and Ryan?”
“Ryan Easter is dead to this family. He is no longer welcome in our home,” her father replied angrily. “Your brother is out helping the police try to find the man who assaulted you.”
Twyla’s heart jerked in her chest, and emotion surged up to her eyes. Her daddy was serious about cutting Ryan from the family. She was pissed at him, but she couldn’t let that happen. He’d been through too much in his life.
“Daddy, I asked him not to tell,” she said taking the bullet for him.
“That doesn’t make a hill of beans, daughter. He had a responsibility to this family, and he knew better. He made a choice, and needs to face the consequences of that choice. He’s a grown man and your safety and our sanity should’ve been his first concern, if he was concerned at all about our family, which he was not.”
Frustration took the lead in the emotions fighting for control inside of Twyla. “Daddy, I wasn’t doing a damned thing illegal or immoral at that bar. I was dancing, and making good money. I had to find something to do when I quit racing.”
“Well, if you don’t see that it was wrong, that’s a problem. There were plenty of other choices you could have made too, Twyla Renee,” he said with disappointment in his tone.
God, she hated that tone. Twyla had heard it enough in her life to know it when she heard it. And the two-name thing magnified it tenfold. This fight would be better left for another day, when her family wasn’t so upset. She’d let them cool off, and try again.
“Mr. Taylor,” the doctor said putting his hand on her father’s shoulder. “I’m going to sign Twyla’s release papers. She’s going to feel better tomorrow, but she needs to take it easy for at least a couple of weeks. Her arm should be ready to take the splint off then. The nurse will give you more instructions when she comes in.”
Why was this man talking to her daddy, when she was a grown woman, over the age of majority, who was responsible for taking care of herself now?
The doctor stuck his hand out and her daddy took it. “Thank you for everything, doc. I’m sorry if I got a little agitated with you before.”
The doctor laughed. “You’re not the first. When our kids are in trouble, it’s understandable. Call me if you need anything.” With a sympathetic smile and a final shake of hands, the doctor turned and walked to the door.
Kid? Twyla was a kid?
That was the problem here. Had been the problem for years. Her family thought she was a kid, her brother thought she was a kid, and Ryan Easter, even though he knew firsthand she wasn’t, thought she was a child. Someone weak who needed protecting and directing. Yeah, she’d gotten herself into a bad situation, because she’d been stupid. It could have turned out bad. But she wasn’t a child. The decision to walk out of that bar with Jared Wilkins had been hers to make. Shock rocked her when she realized she’d remembered she’d done that.
Twyla huffed out a breath, and closed her eyes trying to remember more, but nothing would come. Maybe she’d eventually remember. And maybe Ryan wouldn’t end up in a coffin, and Zack in prison. While she had her eyes closed, she said a silent prayer that was the case.
“We’re taking you back to the ranch with us so you can recover,” her father said shortly, and Twyla’s eyes flew open.
Twyla stiffened her chin, and shored up her confidence. This was the first time in her life she’d ever stood up to her parents. “I have a shooting competition this weekend, but I won’t be able to go because of my arm. I’m still going to watch, and can practice for the one in two weeks. Besides, Tango is here. I can’t leave him. I’m not leaving.”
“You are leaving li
ttle girl. Your mother will help you get dressed, and I’m going to pull the truck around to the front of the hospital. We’ll stop to pick up Tango on the way out and haul him home.”
“I’m not going anywhere, daddy,” Twyla replied firmly. “I’m going to my apartment until I get back on my feet, and I’m going to stay here and train for the mounted shooting competition. That’s what I want to do with my life now, and I’m going to do it.”
Her father’s head rocked back on his shoulders and he looked both angry and surprised. “You’re getting very big for your britches there, little girl.”
“My britches fit just fine, daddy. I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m glad y’all care about me, and came to take care of me, but I’ve got it now. I’m not ashamed of what I was doing at the Cowgirl, and I’m not going to apologize. I was being an adult, figuring things out for myself. I learned a lesson with Jared that I won’t forget. But I need you to let me grow up and learn those lessons myself.” Her eyes darted to her mother who was quietly weeping. Twyla’s heart squeezed, but she knew she had to do this while she had a head of steam worked up. “I just need all of you to let me grow up.” She smiled at her father. “But I would appreciate a ride to my apartment on your way out. I don’t have my truck here.”
A weight lifted off of Twyla’s chest and she felt like she could breathe a little better. Finally, she could breathe. And live her life the way she wanted to live it. An overwhelming sense of freedom made her feel a little giddy, as she tossed back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. Things happened for a reason. Twyla didn’t want what happened with Jared Wilkins to happen, but she was almost glad it did. This was the first day of the rest of her life.
The first day she didn’t answer to a soul but herself and God.
***
Ryan watched as Heather bent to grab her bag from beside his leg and rifle through it. When she raised back up, she smiled and held her hand up to him. “You remember what this looks like, don’t you, big boy?”