by Rya Stone
Cassie’s inner crazy lady, the one she knew was there now, threw her head back, laughing, and with startling clarity, she realized everyone had a touch of madness, their behaviors unexplainable, contradictory, immature. Her, Jase, Clint. All of them were crazy. The whole county was crazy, which made it not crazy that Daphne was related to the law. Why else would Slick leave his precinct for this? And if Mr. Deputy was willing to go off the grid to clean up a Daphne disaster, how far would he go to clean up something involving, say, a Mexican drug cartel? Slick was crazy, too. No wonder he’d made such a point of showing up at her motel, warning her away from the Lucas property. And no wonder Jase handled his own shit.
Mess? This wasn’t a mess. It was a fucking disaster.
“She won’t get back in,” Clint said, hefting Daphne over his shoulder and standing, all in one motion.
The door slammed behind them, and Jase returned. His eyes roamed Cassie’s scraped shoulder and bleeding jaw. “What did I tell you?”
Which damn time?
I need you home.
It’s not forever.
I’m in love with you, Cassie.
I want to give you everything, lay the world at your feet.
You’re not supposed to be afraid of anything.
Jase leaned down, his face inches from hers. “Why are you still here?”
Her jaw trembled, and tears flooded her eyes. She heard him through the haze of hurt but couldn’t respond. Why are you still here? It blended in with the rest, a steady contradiction eating away at her mind. Fingers swiped her wet face, and she wrenched her head away. “Look at me, Cassie.”
She couldn’t.
“Fine. Now you know.”
“What?” she asked, trying to keep her bleeding jaw from staining his floor.
“Obviously Daphne and I have some unfinished business.”
“You’re going to use that?” she asked in utter disbelief. It was obviously a bullshit way of kicking her to the curb once again. It still hurt.
“I’m going to use whatever it takes,” he said. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m—”
“Not the only one I love involved in this.”
Unless he was talking about Clint, she was calling BS again and laughed out loud this time. “You can’t be serious, not after what you said to me, not after—”
“Men say whatever they need to get what they want. Don’t you know that by now?”
The bastard. He was lying and it was low, but it hit some mark, maybe the one he’d been looking for. She’d been cheated on too many times, and even the hint of it from Jase came close to destroying her.
“There’s got to be a better way to do this,” she said.
He reached his hand toward her face, where fresh tears coursed down her cheeks and stung her scraped flesh, but he stopped suddenly and swiped a hand through his hair. “So let’s do this then. I have twenty thousand dollars in the safe in my room. That’s what? A few months’ pay for you. You don’t need to be here anymore. And I won’t miss it.” Or you, he wanted her to believe.
“You can’t be serious.”
He shrugged, looking at the cut on her face instead of at her. “You were worth it.”
“So now I’m a whore?”
“First thing I thought when I saw you. Why not now?”
“Oh, so we are role-playing. Okay, so you’re the cheating boyfriend, and I’ll be the dumb girl who’s had every clue dropped in her lap but still won’t get the hint. Because that’s better than admitting you’re scared and need help. You could have it from me, from law enforcement… God, Jase, you’re military. Wait, I’m breaking character. See if this is better for you…” She held her hand up as if she needed a moment to compose her features.
Jase circled her wrist and yanked her to him. “That’s cute and all, but did you ever stop to think maybe this isn’t about you? That maybe I need to get some things straight with my brother? With Daphne? How many ways do I have to say I don’t need you here? You’re just complicating things.”
“You said you loved me.” It felt like clawing at sand.
“Is that when you put someone else before yourself no matter how much it hurts? When you’re willing to give your life so they can have one?” He stared down at her for so long, her body decided to make some more tears, and she knew she had to pull away on her own, to run down the steps and go, away from this madness. He was right. He didn’t need her.
Her mother did.
Jase’s forehead met hers. “Maybe I don’t know what love is then.” His heart beat wildly against hers, and she heard the raw edge in his breath and had to draw her lips in to keep the hiccup down. “Just take the money.”
Fuck you, Jase.
She smashed her lips to his, seeking whatever he’d give before it all just faded. He threaded his hands through her hair and pulled her roughly against him. The kiss hurt in every way imaginable. They savaged each other so violently she tasted blood. Whether his or hers she couldn’t say, but it stayed with her.
It stayed with her for miles and miles, until she finally pulled over somewhere outside Houston to wipe him off her lips and tend to her face in a truck-stop bathroom. She’d wanted him to see the marks on her body as she’d packed, to know they were nothing compared to what she’d endure for him.
He hadn’t cared.
Staring at the haggard reflection trembling back at her in the mirror, Cassie felt the cold, hard weight of what she’d done. She’d left her job, her man, her mother’s future and her own, stopping only long enough to ditch the busted rental and pick up her car, which had been ready for two days. Thanks for calling, Randy.
She wavered at the sink, suspended, no longer in full flight-mode yet not far enough away.
Some eighty miles to the southeast, Marian lay heavy at her back. Hesitation pulled at her gut. But it was an empty, hollow feeling, like a black curtain had descended over the county line, the welcome mat rolled up and thrown into the dark river. The only light shined ahead now, over miles she wanted to make before dark. She sucked up whatever that was hanging out of her nose and washed her hands one last time.
“You can do this lone warrior or whatever bullshit but it won’t bring you peace,” she told him as he stood on the deck, watching her scoop glass out of her driver seat. She stopped and turned. “One thing I’ve learned about love? The hard stuff? You do it together.” And she’d be back in the pines by six if she made good time. She had someone else, too. Someone who wanted her there.
“Maybe I never loved you then,” he said. “Cause this? This is a piece of cake.”
She yanked a brown paper towel out of the dispenser.
Piece of cake. Huh. Maybe they had some Little fucking Debbies in the store outside.
It was going to take a hell of a lot more than that to fill the void.
But it was a start.
Chapter Twenty
“Test logs on the Richardson well.”
Jase looked up as the computer printouts hit his desk. Kendall, the only woman he employed, smiled down at him. He leaned back in his chair. Woman? She was a girl, a twenty-year-old enrolled at the community college in Victoria, though the way she raked her eyes down his chest indicated she wanted to grow up in a hurry.
“Thanks,” he said, eager to verify what he suspected to be a major gas pocket.
“You’ve been working a lot,” Kendall said, planting a hip on his desk.
“I always work a lot.”
“If you ever want a break…”
“If I want a break, I’ll take one,” he clipped.
Kendall headed for the door. “Just let me know…”
Yeah. Not going to happen, not when Cassie Mitchum invaded his every thought, waking or sleeping. It wasn’t just an invasion. It was a pillaging. And it burned. While he worked and sweated and ached, it was there. It never went away. He saw her stormy eyes every time he closed his. He saw her beneath him and the way she looked at him with those eyes, the only m
an in the room, hell, in the entire world. Yeah, she’d looked at him like that.
He’d wanted to maintain a relationship with her—long-distance and out of harm’s way. But he’d royally screwed up any chance at that the day Daphne attacked her. Seeing her hurt had cut him deeper than that damned brick, and at the time, he’d been relieved by her leaving. But every day that passed without hearing from her dug deeper into an already festering hole in his heart.
With concerted effort, he flipped through the pages before him, pleased at what he saw. He wasn’t so pleased when Kendall rapped on his open door. “Someone here to see you, boss.”
“Who is it?” he asked, not lifting his eyes from the logs.
“A landman.”
Jase’s heart leapt into his throat. He cleared it in a hurry. “Send her in.”
“Um…it’s a guy.”
“Whatever,” Jase said, waving away his disappointment. He straightened his leg under his desk and winced at the pain. Every last drop of it. What was that Tennyson quote? Better to have loved and lost? What an effing crock. This shit with Cassie hurt worse than any injury he’d ever sustained.
Speaking of hurt, Daphne was still lurking around Marian but keeping her distance, thank God. And neither he nor Clint had seen or heard from Oscar. Sad thing was, none of it mattered anymore. He no longer had a claim on Cassie Mitchum. And neither did Oscar.
As for Clint and the land? That was a whole different matter. The attorneys were holding that up. Jase couldn’t sign the lease and get Cassie her override until Clint signed the deed, and the deed wasn’t ready. To top it off, neither were convinced they were done with Oscar Martinez. Jase had experienced it in battle—that tense waiting before all hell broke loose. It wasn’t his favorite feeling in the world.
When the landman in question came sauntering into his office, clad in a pink gingham button-down and skinny khakis, Jase suppressed a frown. And not just because “skinny” pants were a thing. The sight of Kyle Kidd brought up questions Jase wasn’t sure he could make himself ask. He settled on a simple one to start. “What can I do for you?”
Kyle snorted and plunked his thin ass on one of the chairs opposite the desk. “To start, you can explain why Cassie hightailed it back to Nacogdoches.”
That had been one of his questions. “That’s where she is?” he asked, relieved to know for certain.
“Yeah, asshole. What did you do?”
She hadn’t shared. Jase let the dig slide.
“If she’s still speaking to you,” Jase said, “please tell her I intend to make good on my offer. She’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“Of course she’s still speaking to me,” Kyle sneered. Then he leaned forward. “I’m serious. What did you say or do to her?”
Despite the knife twisting his gut, Jase was glad Cassie had such a loyal friend. “I broke up with her.”
“For that ex of yours?”
Had she told him that? He’d hinted but kept his words careful. Kyle must want it from the jackass’s mouth. “It was for her own good.”
“Right.” Kyle rolled his eyes. “I’d hoped for better from you.”
Jase crossed his arms over his desk. “Don’t get me wrong, man. I care for that girl, and I’m not about to see her hurt.”
“Too late for that.”
His chest constricted, enough to overcome the throbbing in his leg. But he wouldn’t let it show, not in front of Cassie’s best friend.
Kyle stood, all business. “I’m sure you know her mother’s health is deteriorating. What you may not know, is that she had a hell of a lot riding on your lease.”
“I know that. In fact, I—”
Kyle planted his hands on Jase’s desk. “Good. I’m here to make sure she gets the damn override.”
He respected the hell out of Kyle for showing up to demand something Cassie had worked so hard for. That took a lot of balls. “She’ll get the override.” Even if it kills me.
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Kyle flipped his bangs out of his eyes. Do guys have bangs? It reminded him of Cassie, although the move was more teen heartthrob and less sexy businesswoman.
“There’s more.”
He cocked an eyebrow at Kyle, not trusting himself to speak. If it was something bad involving Cassie or her mother, Jase wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from hauling ass to Nacogdoches.
“Before she left, she was working on the Neely lease.”
Jase ground his teeth at that but allowed Kyle to continue.
“I’m not sure if that one will come through, but that’s none of your business.” Kyle stopped, and Jase sensed him suppressing another sneer. “Yesterday, our boss offered her another tract. I’m guessing to lure her back down here. It’s small, only ten acres, but everything helps.”
“If it’s none of my business, why are you telling me?” And dammit, why couldn’t he just let the man talk? If it concerned Cassie, he wanted to know, whether he needed to or not, and his defensive attitude wasn’t helping. But he’d been building that defense since she’d left, fortifying his emotions and keeping himself on guard with everyone. He refused to let on how badly he missed her, how his life felt desolate and useless.
“It’s your business because I understand the landowner happens to be one of your rig hands. Claude Lemioux. I want to make this one as easy as possible for her so she can get the signature, land the override, and not have to spend any more time back here than she has to.”
She’s coming back? His heart leapt at the thought of seeing her…right before it crash-dived into the pit of his stomach
Did she still not understand he’d pushed her away for her own safety? Fuck. He ought to spank her ass for even thinking of returning. But because of his smooth-as-silk actions, he had exactly zero claim on her and even less say in what she did or where she went.
“I need Mr. Lemioux’s contact info, and it wouldn’t hurt if you’d…exert your influence. Talk up the lease, pave the way, so to speak. If you can do that, I’ll hammer out the terms with him. I’m already working on the title research, so all Cassie will have to do is hand him a pen.”
“You’d do that for her?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
Absolutely.
He’d never convince her not to return, not with her mother’s future at stake. Hell, he couldn’t even convince her to return a phone call. The least he could do was help her wring every cent she could from one of the most corrupt industries on the planet.
“I can do one better,” Jase said.
Kyle’s eyes gleamed, and Jase liked the man even more.
“Come on,” he said, and set his desk chair spinning in his haste to escort Kyle to Rig Three.
…
Out her mother’s nursing home window, the last vestiges of the southern pine belt met East Texas bottomland. The dark forest had long been a haven for smugglers and outlaws and those seeking reprieve from the outside world. The Big Thicket. Beautiful and dangerous, Cassie finally understood the urge to flee into its depths, even though it reminded her exactly of him.
“You still there?” Kyle asked.
Cassie adjusted her cell phone and watched her mother struggle to connect the straw in her water glass to her mouth. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“I found him.”
“Found who?”
“Claude Lemioux.”
Cassie sat upright in the chair next to her mother’s bed. “That was fast.”
“He’s all about it, too, Cass. He’s got three baby mamas and a mortgage on the land. But…”
The line went silent, and a thousand “but” scenarios raced through Cassie’s mind. Nothing she conjured could be worse than what she’d already gone through. “Out with it, buster.”
“He works for Jase.”
She hadn’t expected that and screwed her eyes shut in a desperate attempt to quell the storm of emotion boiling to the surface. Just the sound of his name hurt. “And?” she managed through her clenched j
aw.
“And he just started a two-week hitch.” And that meant a trip to Claude Lemioux’s jobsite.
“Which rig?”
“Three.” Not that it mattered. She glanced at her mother. She’d bought her all new bedding a few days before. It had done nothing to brighten the room. And it sure as hell hadn’t changed the fact that her mother’s day nurse, Shelly, now carried a huge grudge since Cassie had complained about the shower incident. No, getting her mother moved was the only thing that mattered.
“And Jase knows.”
Her phone slipped to the scuffed linoleum floor.
Great. On both accounts.
“What is it?” her mother asked.
“Nothing,” she mumbled and scooped up her phone. “I’ll call you later, Kyle. And thanks. I owe you.”
“You owe me nothing, girl.”
They hung up, but Cassie held tight to her phone, her knuckles white. Hell of a coincidence, wasn’t it? She couldn’t sign the Lucas lease. Neely remained up in the air. And the only sure bet entailed a roulette round-trip to one of Jase’s busiest drill sites.
“What’s his name?” her mother asked quietly.
Cassie glanced over the bed, her heart thudding in her chest, heavy and hard. She swallowed, unsure how to answer. She hadn’t brought up Jase since that ill-fated phone conversation when her mother had mistaken him for Reid. It had broken her heart. Then Jase had mended it, he’d—Oh God—she couldn’t even think about it. “Who are you referring to?”
“The man you ache for.”
Did she remember? Cassie drew a steadying breath and decided to answer her, no matter where the conversation went. “Jason Lucas,” she whispered.
“A strong name.”
“For a strong man.” Cassie pictured that man telling her he loved another. She felt his lips crushing hers, his heart beating wildly against her chest.
“And why are you sitting here when I can see you want to be with him?”
