by Shandi Boyes
“About what?”
She exhales quickly before pushing out, “Nothing... I’ve got to go.”
When she disconnects our call, I stare down at my phone, confused as fuck. I don't know why I'm shocked. Women in general are complicated, let alone ones as high-strung as Lola.
I’m still staring at my phone when Noah strides into my room. He’s smiling like he won a hotdog eating contest, and his eyes have a twinkle I’ve never seen before.
“Hey, how you feeling?” His jerked-up chin asks more questions than his mouth verbalizes, such as, are you going tell me who beat your ass yet? But there’s too much going on with him to keep the focus on me.
“I’m good. You?”
“I’m fucking great.”
When he waggles his brows, I feel like he slaps me with a wet fish. Who the fuck is this guy standing in front of me? I’ve never seen him so carefree and happy...
My inner monologue trails off when reality dawns. No. Fucking. Way!
“Who has your panties in a twist?”
He rubs his hands together as he rocks heel to toe. “Emily.”
I cock a brow. “Emily… Emily? As in Lola’s sister, Emily?”
I didn’t know they had contact since the car prank we pulled months ago.
“Yep.” The “p” pops from his mouth. “You should see this girl, Jake. She’s so fucking beautiful, yet she has no clue.”
“I’ve seen her, remember?”
I laugh when he rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
“Is that where you took off to this morning? Dad was interrogating me about your movements earlier.”
He nervously shifts from foot to foot. “Uh, yeah.” He’s embarrassed we spotted his eagerness. “We spent the day at Stoney Creek Falls. She jumped off the waterfall with me.”
“No shit?”
I didn’t think Emily would have the brass to jump off the boulder at Stoney Creek. Maybe she’s more like her sister than I thought.
“Anyway, I’m going to take a shower—”
“To work out the kink?” I interrupt with a laugh.
When he ignores me, I realize that’s precisely what he’s going to do. Welcome to McIntosh blue balls territory, Noah. It’s neither pretty nor nice.
Once he reaches my door, he glances over his shoulder at me. “Will you ever tell me what happened last night?”
My lips twist as I scratch my brow. “Yeah, one day.”
His eyes narrow as he shakes his head. “Don’t ever play poker, Jacob. You’ll lose more than your shirt.”
Chapter Nineteen
Lola
“Guys are such pigs.”
I shake off my funk as I exit the men’s bathroom at Mavs. I've just finished cleaning the urinals as part of my continued punishment from Maggie. After our disagreement weeks ago, she's given me every shit chore she can find. Because I really need this job and have yet to find a replacement, I have no choice but to put up with her unjust treatment. She isn't being fair because she doesn’t know the agreement Jacob and I have. Associating with another man isn’t cheating when you’re not in a relationship.
When I round the corner to head back to the main bar area, I crash into a well-formed chest. “Sorry.”
I attempt to maneuver past the person, but a deep voice halts my steps. "I knew I'd eventually bump into you."
With my heart beeping in my neck, I raise my eyes. After clearing ripped jeans, a fitted blue shirt, and a tattooed neck, I come face to face with Callum Parker—my ex-boyfriend.
“Callum.” I muster up a smile, pretending I’m not scared. I am, but I’d rather he not know that. “How are you?”
His heavy-lidded gaze lowers to my tight red Mavericks shirt before drifting past my white denim jeans. My endeavor to keep our conversation in warm waters is lost when he sneers, “Still dressing slutty, I see.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
I attempt to skirt past him again, over our exchange within a second of it starting. Before I even get two steps away from him, his hand shoots out to seize my wrist. “I wasn’t done talking to you yet.”
His hold is so firm, I nearly call out for help. The only reason I don't is that I remember only Maggie and me are working this afternoon. Even Maggie’s unjust treatment won’t let me put her at risk. She doesn’t deserve Callum’s wrath any more than I do.
“Let me go.” My voice is surprisingly calm for how fast my heart is racing. “If I don’t return to the bar soon, they’ll come looking for me.”
He digs his fingers into my wrist so hard, I whimper. His hold is going to bruise me—again. “Do you really think the old biddy behind the bar will save you?”
My eyes bounce between his when he traps me between him and the paint-peeling wall. He isn’t the height or the width of Jacob, but he’s undeniably taller than my five-foot-five frame.
“What do you want, Callum?”
He pushes in closer, stealing my ability to scan the area for help. I’ve got nothing in front of me but a pair of angry, glossed-over eyes. “I want you...” With the hand not grasping my wrist, he grips my face so firmly, moisture burns my eyes. “…in my bed, where you belong.”
The last of the air in my lungs leaves in a grunt when he narrows his filthy mouth toward mine. I yank my head to the side, struggling with all my might to break away from his hold. Unfortunately, he’s too strong. I can’t get away.
With my body pinned to the wall by his, his tongue lashes my lips, requesting that I accept his kiss, but I keep my mouth shut tight. I’ll even go as far as biting off his slimy tongue if he forces it into my mouth. That’s how much he disgusts me.
Realizing I’ll never give him what he wants, Callum inches back. The tick in his jaw is more profound now, and I can hear his teeth grinding together. He’s as unhinged as he was the night he assaulted me.
I’m about to ask him to leave before he makes another mistake he can’t take back, but I lose the chance when his hand gripping my face drops to my neck. Panic surges through me when he clutches my throat as fiercely as he did my face. He squeezes me tight, stealing the air from my lungs as swiftly as he once swept me off my feet.
I claw at him, giving it everything I have to pry him away from my neck. Nothing weakens his tight hold. The more I fight, the more he chokes me.
“Callum, please.” I can barely talk through the pain, but I’m hoping my pleading eyes will take up my plight. If he doesn’t release me soon, he will kill me.
“Please? Please what? Please forgive me for running out on you in the middle of the night without saying goodbye?” When his grip firms even more, tears flow down my cheeks. “Please forgive me for wasting nine fucking months of my life I’ll never get back? What is your please for, Lola? You walked out without an explanation, without a fucking reason. You just left!”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. I can’t breathe, much less talk.
“Don’t I deserve better than that? I gave you nine months of my life—nine fucking months!” The veins in his neck bulge with every word he spits in my face. My pulse is fading under his touch, my head growing woozy. I’m seconds from passing out—literally moments from death.
Just as I think I’ll never suck in air again, Callum loosens his grip. I want to say my begging eyes finally subdued him, but that isn’t the case. There’s someone in the corridor with us. I can’t see them, but I can feel the anger radiating out of them.
“Get off her right now!”
Fear thickens my blood when I recognize the voice. It's Maggie. She has a baseball bat suspended mid-air and the eyes of a murderer.
“It’s okay, Maggie. I can handle this. You don’t need to get involved.” My scratchy voice reveals how close to the grave I am. If Maggie was ten seconds later, I would be dead.
Maggie either ignores my assurance or she didn't hear it. "This is your last warning: let her go."
When Callum fails to comply again, she slices her bat through the air, smacking his arm like her bat is
an ax, and his arm is a chunk of wood she's splitting. Her hit is so impressive, it dislodges Callum's hand from my neck with a roar.
“You fucking bitch!”
The threat in Callum’s tone does little to deter Maggie. She raises her bat once more, ready to swing again if needed. I try to get between them when Callum prowls toward her, but he shoves me against the wall, rattling out the last snippet of air in my lungs with a brutal push.
Despite Callum smirking evilly at her, Maggie strengthens her stance, not once backing down. “This bat isn't the only weapon I'm carrying," she warns, her tone deadly serious. "If you don't leave my bar this instant, I won’t hesitate to show you the way out with a bullet.”
When her other hand slips around her back, Callum's prowling steps halt. He takes his time to authenticate her threat. It's a painfully long ten seconds. Not even I’m sure if her threat is idle or not.
Once Callum reaches his conclusion, his eyes drift to mine. They reflect nothing but hate and disgust. They mirror mine to a T. “This isn’t over,” he whispers, hoping I’ll be the only one who hears them. If the quiver in Maggie’s top lip is anything to go by, he failed his mission for the second time today.
After raising his hands in the air, faking innocence, he skirts past Maggie. I keep my eyes locked on him until he disappears from my view—then, I collapse onto the floor.
Chapter Twenty
Jacob
“You gave her a heart attack.”
“Me?” I slide into the passenger seat of Noah’s truck as he slips behind the wheel. “You got her all flustered.”
An amused mask slips over Noah’s face. “Here, let me help you, young man." I grin at his impersonation of the waitress's voice. "Oh, so hard, young man.”
Chuckling, he fires up his engine then pulls away from the curb, sending a plume of smoke into the air. His truck is a gas guzzler, but its sentimental value far exceeds its dollar worth. This is the truck he was rebuilding with his brother before his demons got the better of him.
We drove into town this morning to pick up parts required to make Noah’s truck’s exterior as shiny as her core. He finished rebuilding the motor over a month ago, so this week, we’ll refurbish the interior. Since it was after midday when we arrived in town, we stopped at a café to grab a bite to eat. While the waitress filled my cup with coffee, she made gaga kissy faces at Noah. He got in on the act by giving her a playful wink. She was near eighty, so what’s the worst that could happen... ?
Scorching hot coffee landing in my crotch instead of my cup, that’s what.
In haste, I jumped out of the booth, shifting the scalding beverage from my cock to my thigh. Mortified she burned my cock on a stake, the waitress grabbed a wad of napkins off our table to soak up the coffee. To say I was embarrassed a lady older than my grandma was patting my dick like he was as good boy would be a major understatement. I was horrified.
Noah wasn’t mortified, though. He was far from it. He was so close to breaking, he was biting his fist to stifle his laughter.
No amount of gnawing held back his laughter when the waitress said, “Oh, so hard, young man.”
Noah lost it, which meant every pair of eyes in the café turned to gawk at me. With cheeks the color of Noah's chortling face, I snatched the napkins out of the waitress's hand, then sank low into my seat.
I got a free lunch out of the catastrophe. I would have preferred to pay.
“She was talking about my thigh muscle.”
Noah’s laughter gets a second wind. “Sure she was, Jake. Whatever you say.”
I’m about to retort, but my ringing cell phone stops me. After yanking it out of my pocket, I glance down at the screen. I don’t recognize the number, but it does have a local area code. With a shrug, I swipe my finger across the screen then press my phone to my ear.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Jacob, it’s Maggie.”
My brows stitch. “Oh, hey, Maggie.”
Noah’s eyes stray from the road to me, just as surprised about Maggie’s call as I am. I have her cell number stored in my phone in case of emergencies, but I’ve never had any reason to use it.
Maggie exhales a big breath before asking, “I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”
Her unease upsets my stomach. She’s usually so confident. “Sure. Anything.”
She always lends an ear when I'm frustrated about shit she has no interest in, so the least I can do is help her back when she needs me.
When Maggie remains quiet, I ask, “Are you alright?”
Hearing the panic in my tone, Noah pulls his truck to the side of the road. After shutting down his engine, his eyes wordlessly seek information.
I shrug, as lost as he is. I hold my finger in the air when Maggie slowly breathes out, “I’m okay, but Lola is a little rattled.”
“Lola? What happened?” The pounding of my heart is audible in my questions.
"It's not my place to say." She breathes out slowly as if worried she's making a mistake. "She doesn't know I'm calling, but I don't want her to go home alone. I'd take her, but I can't find anyone to cover my shift, so could you drive her home for me?”
“Yeah, I can do that.” Even though I sound calm, I’m anything but. “We’re in town, so I’ll be there in around five minutes.”
“Thanks, Jacob.”
I suck in some big breaths while lowering my phone from my ear. My gut is so knotted, I feel seconds from bringing up the meal Noah and I just shared. That skittish, scared Maggie I was just talking to isn’t the Maggie I know. Usually, nothing rattles her.
“Is everything alright?”
My eyes drift from my phone to Noah. “I don’t know. Maggie asked me to drive Lola home. She said she is too rattled to drive. Can you take me to Mavs, then follow me back to Lola’s house?”
“Yeah, no worries.” He fires up his truck, executes a U-turn, then heads back into town. We don’t talk the entire time. The silence adds to the havoc somersaulting in my gut. Something’s not right; I just don’t have a fucking clue what’s wrong.
When I break through Mavericks' double doors, I scan the nearly deserted surroundings. Including Maggie, who is standing behind the bar, there are only a handful of people milling around.
I make my way to Maggie. When she catches my approach, she wearily smiles.
“Where’s Lola?”
My long strides are sliced to half their length when I notice Maggie’s usually sparkling eyes are full of moisture. She appears seconds from crying, but her focus remains on Lola. “She’s in the storeroom.”
Glancing back to Noah, I gesture my head toward Maggie. I’m torn. I hate leaving Maggie while she’s upset, but I don’t want to leave Lola if she’s just as devastated.
The weight on my shoulders eases when Noah nods, wordlessly advising he'll take care of Maggie while I handle Lola. I wait for him to round the bar before heading for the storeroom out back. The urgency of the situation is unearthed when Maggie fails to object to us trespassing on her domain. Usually, no one but staff is allowed behind the bar—that includes the storerooms.
“Lola,” I call out when I enter the dark and dingy room.
I hear sniffling a mere second before I spot Lola crouched in the very corner of the nearly black space. Her arms are wrapped around her knees, and she's sobbing hard.
Ignoring the heavy pit burrowing in my chest, I squat down in front of her. “Hey, you okay?”
She flinches when I touch her, but that’s quickly pushed aside for relief when she realizes who I am. “Jacob…”
When she bounds off the ground to throw her arms around my neck, her quick movement sends me sprawling onto my ass. She doesn’t hurt me; my heart is too busy breaking from the pain etched on her face to register any pain.
I pull her close to my chest before bracing my back on the shelves she was cowered against. I'm confident she'll hear my raging heart, but I don't give a shit. I'm both angry and panicked as to what has her so upset. Just like the
Maggie I was talking to earlier, this isn’t the Lola I know. She’d never cry so hard she’d soak my shirt in under a minute.
As I comfort her the best I can, my brain struggles to work out what happened. During the day, only regulars drink at Mavs, so I doubt any of them would have upset her. Furthermore, I’ve witnessed firsthand how quickly Lola defuses drunken idiots who get a little handsy with her. She whips them into shape in a snap, so once again, I don’t see that being an issue.
So if a customer isn’t to blame for her tears, who is?
Realizing I have the answer sitting in my lap, I raise Lola’s tear-stained face to mine by her chin. She’s trembling so much, her shudders rattle my hand. The cheeky spark in her eyes has been tainted. Now instead of being shiny and unique, they’re haunted and bleak.
I’m about to ask who did this to her, but her request for help stops me. “Can you please take me home?”
Nodding, I remove the last of her tears from her cheeks with my thumbs before standing to my feet, taking her with me. You have no idea how hard it is for me to set her down. The only reason I do is because she’s quick to slip her hand into mine when we lose contact.
We walk into the main bar area, hand in hand, only breaking contact when Lola notices Maggie peering at us. With a sob, she makes a beeline for Maggie, startling her when she throws her arms around her neck like she did me. Maggie returns Lola’s embrace with just as much admiration and respect, her chin dipping when Lola whispers, “Thank you.”
Our drive to Erkinsvale is so quiet, every shallow breath Lola takes adds additional cracks to my already fractured heart. It’s killing me that she’s hurt but doesn't trust me enough to tell me what's going on. I'm on the verge of falling to my knees and begging her to open up to me, but since we’re in the confines of her mom’s car, I can’t. My knees are nearly around my ears, so there’s no way they’ll reach the ground.
Instead, I interlock our fingers. Her pulse is raging so fast, you’d swear I was gripping her heart instead of her hand. Its thump is so convincing, I glance down at our hands to make sure I’m not. Air traps halfway to my lungs when I notice more than overworked veins. There’s a large mark covering a majority of her wrist.
