Stay With Me (Hope Valley Book 5)

by Jessica Prince

  “I’ll handle it,” I bit out as I started for the stairs. I took them two at a time, my feet beating against the wood like thunder the entire way down.

  When I cleared the stairwell and turned to the lobby, I saw Laurie in a standoff with Bryce, Xander, West, and our receptionist, Roxanne.

  The air in the room was thick with hate and animosity, and it didn’t take a genius to know why. Rox and these men were my family, and the woman standing in front of them had hurt me in a way that could never be forgiven as far as they were concerned. They had my back, and they didn’t want her anywhere near me.

  “The fuck are you doin’ here?”

  At my snarled question, Laurie spun around. Her face changed the moment she saw me, the ice melting from her gaze as her eyes grew warm. “Cord,” she breathed, her voice coming out a delicate whisper.

  In the past, that gentle look and voice would’ve been enough to undo me. It was how Laurie got her way so many times. With our history and the way I’d felt about her, I’d cave in an instant.

  But not anymore. Now it only pissed me off that she’d try and play me the way she had for years after what she’d done.

  “Asked you a question,” I snapped, then repeated, “What the fuck are you doin’ here, Laurie?”

  Her frame locked up and she jerked back in surprise. I was sure it wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting. “I-I wanted to… I wanted to see you.” She cast her eyes around the room, chewing on her bottom lip nervously even though she’d just been in a standoff with the very same people before I entered. It was all for show. Poor delicate Laurie Dutton who needed protecting from all the bad in the world.

  What a crock of shit.

  “Got nothin’ to say to you,” I grunted, crossing my arms. The move pulled her gaze to my chest, and I stood still, watching as she looked me up and down. I’d been in a pair of black mesh athletic shorts and a white T-shirt, but halfway through my workout, I’d pulled the shirt off, tucking it in the waistband of my shorts and leaving me bare chested. Her eyes darkened with a familiar heat as she took me in. She’d always loved my chest and arms. She said she felt so small and safe when I held her against me. I could tell when her attention caught on the scars the bullets that had torn through my body left behind, the heat fading as she winced.

  I felt an ugly smile pull at my lips as I taunted, “What? Don’t like what you see anymore now that it’s not perfect?”

  “Cord, I—” She shook her head and worked to clear her expression of the uncertainty before she locked eyes with me once more. “Can we talk? In private?”

  “Bitch, that’s not gonna happen,” Xander said, the rage radiating off him filling the room and making everyone wired. He was the hardest out of all the brothers I worked with at Alpha Omega. There was an underlying darkness to him. Most of the time, he kept it in check, but when he lost that tenuous hold, he was downright scary. And right now, he couldn’t be bothered to keep himself in check. “Told you already, you’re not welcome here, so get. The fuck. Gone.”

  Normally, Laurie wasn’t cowed by anyone, but even she wasn’t stupid enough not to read the danger coming off the big man when she looked over at him. This time, when she turned back to me, the fear and uncertainty in her eyes was very real. “Cord, please,” she whispered.

  I felt absolutely nothing as I looked at her then. There was no love, no loyalty to the girl who’d been the only constant in my life. As far as I was concerned, I owed her nothing.

  “That’s not gonna happen. I haven’t seen you in seven fuckin’ months, Laurie. You lost the right to ask for my time and attention when you proved just how weak you were by taking off when I was laid up in a hospital bed. You’ve got absolutely nothing to say that I want to hear.”

  “I was scared,” she cried, tears welling up in her eyes as she took a step closer to me.

  At that, Roxanne jumped into action, shooting out from behind her desk and stopping partially in front of me to block Laurie from getting any closer. “You were scared?” she hissed, her brightly painted fingernails disappearing as she curled her hands into tight fists. Roxanne could throw attitude when she wanted to—and she normally wanted to a lot—but this was different. This wasn’t attitude. This was hatred for a woman who betrayed a man she cared about. “How the hell do you think he was feelin’? Lyin’ out in that cold all by himself, blood pourin’ from his body into the dirt all around him. You think he wasn’t terrified, hopin’ and prayin’ someone would find him? You think he wasn’t scared when he woke up in the hospital with tubes stickin’ outta his body? No one gives a good goddamn if you were scared, little girl. Only person we care about is him.” She threw her thumb back in my direction before slamming her hands down on her plump hips. “And far’s we’re concerned, he’d better off bein’ shot of a coward like you.”

  “Rox,” Linc said in low warning, but she wasn’t having any of it.

  “Nuh-uh,” she clipped, throwing a sassy look toward her boss before turning on Laurie once again. And what she said next shocked me to my core. “There was only one woman who spent every second by his side from the moment he came out of surgery until he woke up. One woman who refused to go home for days. And it wasn’t you. Rory Hightower stayed by his side night and day, sleepin’ in an uncomfortable-as-hell chair so he wouldn’t wake up and be alone, houndin’ his doctors for constant updates and strong-armin’ the nurses to make sure he didn’t feel even the slightest bit of discomfort. Hell, when it came time to bathe him, she kicked them out and did it her damn self. Wouldn’t even leave long enough to grab some food or a cup of coffee. She was so goddamn busy takin’ care of him that it was up to us to take care of her. She did your job, and she did it without a single thought of herself. And trust me, that girl was just as scared as you were, but she showed a strength you’re not capable of. So do everyone in this town, especially Cord, a favor and crawl back into whatever hole you been hidin’ in the past several months.”

  After Roxanne’s rant, Laurie actually had the nerve to look at me with hurt seeping into her expression. And I knew exactly why. She’d been threatened by Rory from the moment I introduced them. She didn’t want her to be a part of my life, and hearing that it was Rory who’d been there for me—even if I hadn’t known the extent until now—was a betrayal on my part as far as she was concerned.

  But I didn’t care. I was done. And it was time for Laurie Dutton to exit my life for good.

  “I don’t know where it is you’ve been, and I really don’t care. You need to turn around right now and go back there. Whatever you and I had in the past is gone.”

  And with that, I spun on my running shoes and headed back up the stairs, hoping that was the last I’d ever see of her.

  The moment I cleared the landing, I moved to the punching bag in the far corner of the room. For half an hour, I took my frustration and guilt and shame out on that bag. Each punch carried the weight of my self-hatred.

  The skin on my knuckles split open wider with every blow, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop. The pain in my hands was nothing compared to what I felt when Rory looked at me with tears in her eyes. Knowing I’d hurt her was an agony I never wanted to experience again.

  I knew Rory had stayed at the hospital with me; she’d told me so herself. But to know she hadn’t left my side once, that she’d neglected herself for days just to make sure I was being properly taken care of, that she’d gone as far as bathing my unconscious body...

  Fuck, I was such a fucking asshole.

  I had no choice. I had to somehow fix the damage I’d caused. Because without Rory, I’d never be whole. And I was tired of living half a life.

  Chapter Eight

  Rory

  I took a step back and inspected my handiwork. The metal bracket and padlock that would keep the dumpster closed wasn’t anything to be impressed by, but at least I wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning up the garbage strewn all over the alley by wild critters anymore.

  When I talked t
o Sally and Ralph, the owners of Evergreen Diner a couple days back, they told me they’d had the same problem, so I’d grabbed an extra bracket and lock for them from Makin Hardware earlier that morning, and dropped it by the diner on my way to the bar.

  I didn’t want to have to call animal control—after all, whatever was getting into the dumpsters was just trying to survive—but I was getting sick and tired of picking up trash I’d already thrown out when I opened the bar every morning.

  Brushing my palms on my jeans, I headed back into the bar. “Hey, Dusty, you still good?” I asked as I rounded the bar and moved to the sink to wash my hands.

  “Yeah, darlin’,” he mumbled, lifting his pint and finishing it off.

  I moved closer to him and braced my forearms on the counter. “You hungry? Want me to put in an order with the kitchen?”

  His eyes weren’t nearly as glassy or red rimmed as they usually were when he looked at me just then. He was going slower tonight, still drowning his sorrows but not nearly as deep. “Wouldn’t turn my nose up at a patty melt if it’s on the menu.”

  I smiled brightly and stood tall. “A patty melt’s what you’re in the mood for, then I’ll make sure it’s on the menu.”

  Taking a step back, I prepared to head back to the kitchen when the sound of breaking glass followed by a deafening hoot of laughter called my attention away from Dusty and toward the area where the pool tables were set up.

  “Knew they were trouble the minute they walked through the door,” Dusty muttered, an unhappy look on his face as he stared in the direction I’d just been looking.

  The crowd at The Tap Room was usually full of familiar faces, but it wasn’t uncommon for us to get the occasional tourist or folks just passing through. Usually, those people had themselves a drink or bite to eat, enjoyed the scenery, and went on their way. But just like Dusty, I’d seen who’d come waltzing in half an hour ago and knew they weren’t going to be that easy.

  “Par for the course when you work in a bar. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” I gave him a reassuring look and patted his hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  Stopping at the passthrough window that looked into the kitchen from the bar, I called out Dusty’s order before grabbing the broom and dustpan and heading for the pool tables.

  I hit the platform and offered the group of men—if they could even be considered that—a banal grin before moving to where the three pint glasses lay shattered on the floor.

  “Sorry about that, babe,” one of the guys offered in a tone that indicated he wasn’t the least bit sorry. “Bumped into the table.”

  I gave him a quick cursory glance, dragged my gaze across his three buddies, and then looked back to the mess they’d made. “Accidents happen,” I said as I started sweeping up the glass. I knew exactly who this guy and his friends were without ever having laid eyes on them before. They were a dime a dozen.

  I tagged them at the high end of their early twenties. Their loud, raucous behavior indicated they were recent college grads who probably spent most of those four years drunk out of their minds after a night of keg stands and frat parties. They were all dressed similarly in polo shirts or button-downs, all with their collars popped, and ridiculously colored shorts with anchors or whales printed on them. Their clothes, overstyled hair, and the BMW they’d pulled up in said they were from money. But if I had to guess, it was money their parents gave them, not money they’d earned on their own. They were such an easy-to-read cliché it was almost laughable. These were spoiled, entitled trust fund brats who thought the world revolved around them and that they could do whatever the hell they wanted.

  The guy who’d just addressed me was clearly the ringleader of the crew, the alpha—in his opinion—and I had the sense that he was going to be the biggest of the four problems when he moved closer, invading my personal space without an invitation. “How about you stick around?” he said in a voice I had no doubt he thought was sexy and suggestive. To me, he just sounded like a boy playing at being a man. “Have a drink with us, shoot some pool.”

  Lowering into a squat, I swept the broken glass into the dustpan as I issued my reply. “Got a bar to run.”

  “Oh, come on, babe,” he cajoled, moving even closer as I stood tall. “You can take a little break. What’s a sexy thing like you doing working in a shitty, backwater hick-town bar anyway?”

  I didn’t bother taking offense. Men like him didn’t matter to me. The Tap Room wasn’t shitty, not even close. And if he thought Hope Valley was a backwater hick town, he was clearly even stupider than I’d originally thought. “I own the bar,” I answered, looking him head-on with an expression as flat as my voice. “You break another glass, it’s gonna be added to your tab. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other customers to see to.”

  I went to step around him, but the prick, obviously deciding he didn’t like my brush-off, cut in front of me. “If this is your bar, then it’s no big deal for you to hang with us for a bit.” A smarmy smile stretched across his face, flashing perfect white teeth. “Show us some of that small-town hospitality.”

  I’d tried to be as tactful as possible, but it was becoming obvious that this guy didn’t have a damn thing between his ears, and I was done dealing with him. “Move, please.”

  “Ah, come on, baby.” He reached up and tried to touch my arm, but I took a quick step back.

  “First, I’m not your baby. Second, I don’t recall telling you it was all right that you touch me. Now, I already asked you to move out of my way. I’m not gonna do it again.”

  The charming playboy mask he’d been wearing dissolved, replaced by a hateful sneer I was willing to bet was a better portrayal of who this guy really was. “Is that right?” To prove to his friends just how big a badass he was, he slowly lifted his arm and started to reach for me.

  “That would be a mistake,” I warned, not the least bit frightened by these jackasses. I’d grown up Bill Hightower’s daughter, for goodness’ sake. I could handle myself against spoiled sons of bitches like this.

  “Oh yeah? And what’re you gonna do about it?”

  His hand came down on my arm, and I went about showing him exactly what I planned to do. Dropping the dustpan on the ground, I grabbed the broom handle with both hands near the bottom and swung it like a baseball bat as hard as I could, connecting with Alpha Wannabe’s arm.

  He let out a howl of pain and doubled over, gripping his arm close to his chest.

  “I told you not to touch me.”

  He craned his neck, gnashing his teeth as he breathed rapidly against the pain. “You stupid bitch!” He lunged, but before he could reach me, I swung the broom handle up, hitting him in his chin with such force, his head back flew back at an unnatural angle.

  “Fuckin’ cunt,” Guy Number Two shouted, making his move, but before they could get close, Cord appeared on the platform.

  “Get outta here, Rory,” he barked as he grabbed Guy Number Two by his stupid popped-up collar and used the asshole’s momentum to swing him around and shove him away, sending him flying. Guys Three and Four didn’t hesitate to wade into the mix, and I stood in shock as Cord took them both on while Guy Number Two regained his footing.

  The men were nowhere near as big or strong as Cord, but still, it was three on one, and I wasn’t a fan of those odds. So, while Guy Number Two looked to be planning his maneuver, I gave the broom another swing, catching him right in the back as he charged at Cord.

  He hit the ground unceremoniously, and I didn’t hesitate. I hit him again, then again for good measure just to make sure he didn’t get back up.

  I looked over just as Cord dispatched Guy Number Three, but he was still held up with the fourth. I was about to jump in when my head was suddenly wrenched backward. I’d been so busy worrying about Cord that I hadn’t realized Alpha Wannabe had gotten to his feet.

  “Don’t know who you’re messin’ with, bitch,” he hissed as he yanked my hair.

  I let out a cry and stumbled back into
him. The moment my back connected with his chest, I cocked my elbow and slammed it into his stomach.

  He lost his grip on my hair while letting out an unnatural wheeze. Once I was free, I spun around, grabbed his overly styled hair, and slammed his face down on my knee. He reared back, giving me the perfect shot, so I took it, landing a hard kick to his groin with the toe of my boot. That last blow sent him to the ground, and I knew there was no way in hell he’d be able to get back up, at least not without assistance.

  “You okay?” At the sound of Cord’s voice, I whipped my head around and saw him standing near the pool table with his hands on his hips, looking as sexy as ever, even with a small trickle of blood trailing down the side of his face from a cut near his eyebrow.

  The bodies of the two guys he’d been fighting were on the ground at his feet, one writhing in pain, the other eerily still. “You didn’t kill that one, did you?” I asked, pointing to the still body.

  Cord heaved out a sigh and looked at Guy Number Four. “Just unconscious. Now answer my question. You okay, dollface?”

  I reached around to touch the back of my head, prodding gently at where Alpha Wannabe had pulled my hair to find it didn’t really hurt anymore. “I’m fine.”

  Cord’s expression was like thunder as he stomped to me and grabbed my face, turning it side to side like he didn’t believe me and had to assess the damage himself. “Goddamn it, Rory. I told you to get the hell outta here,” he grumbled.

  “I wasn’t going to leave you by yourself,” I snapped in return, pulling my chin from his grasp. “It was three on one! Those aren’t fair odds.”

  He yanked me back and prodded at the back of my scalp. “Saw that fucker grab your hair,” he continued, looking like he wanted to beat the hell out of those guys all over again. “He could’ve seriously hurt you. Next time I tell you to get outta here, you get outta here. I don’t give a shit if it’s twenty on one.”