by Tawny Taylor
“I…I’m not sure. Rodeos were never my thing.”
“Around these parts rodeos are everyone’s thing.”
Up ahead I could see the fair, carnival rides swinging and swooping and spinning. Will parked in a nearby empty lot and insisted I wait as he stomped around the front of the truck to let me out. A hand was waiting for my grasp as soon as the door was open. I accepted it, not wanting to seem rude.
His fingers clasped my hand firmly and didn’t let go. “This way.” He led me toward the entry booth set up at one end of a public park. He released my hand to pay the entry fee but the moment he had his wallet back in his pocket, he grabbed it again. My palm sweated as we wove between couples, packs of teens and families enjoying the sights and sounds of the fair.
Thanks to the lights and smiles everywhere, my anxiety eased as we wandered past the line of food trucks parked along one side of the fairgrounds. The scents of roasted meat and popcorn made my mouth water, reminding me I hadn’t eaten much at lunchtime.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Will said as he expertly steered us through the throng, the thick crowd parting before him, greeting him, waving as if he was a celebrity. Though, in a town as small as Dawson, the national cowboy champ probably was a celebrity.
“Starving,” I said, my eyes bouncing from one truck to the next. Elephant ears. Popcorn. Ice cold drinks! “And thirsty.”
“We’ll get our food. But first…” He stepped between two trucks, taking me to a quiet little nook sheltered from the noise and bustle.
I tipped my head up to ask him what he was doing, and Will leaned closer, eyes drilling into mine. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this. I can’t wait another second.” Then, without warning, he smashed his mouth over mine.
I parted my lips, gasping, shock quaking through my system. He took advantage of my vulnerability and shoved his tongue into my mouth. His hand landed on my breast, fingers squeezing so hard tears sprung to my eyes.
What the hell? What made him think he could do this to me? I’d agreed to go to dinner, not be dinner.
I shoved him, but he didn’t budge. I tried to break the kiss by turning my head away but he followed, tongue plunging in and out of my mouth, hungrily taking.
Bastard!
Anger seethed through me. I hooked my fingers and raked them down his arms, but that did nothing. I tried to knee him in the crotch but he slammed his body against mine, smashing me between the wall and him.
I was trapped.
A whimper bubbled in my throat. I jerked my head to the other side, briefly breaking the kiss. “Please, stop.”
“Aw, don’t you beg so pretty.” The hand holding my breast plunged under my shirt. “That’s it, baby. Play hard to get. I love that game.”
“I’m not playing!” I wiggled and writhed, but he wedged his leg between mine. With my every movement, I felt his erection growing bigger, harder as it rubbed against my hip.
Sick bastard! He liked this.
I clawed at him, his body, his face. But he caught my hands and slammed them above my head, grumbling, “Stop it, slut.”
I pulled, twisting my arms, but his hold was too strong, too tight. My stomach turned as I realized he had me completely overpowered. He was so fucking strong!
He gathered my wrists in one hand and grabbed the front of my top with the other. With one sharp yank he had the neckline torn to reveal my bra. “Now, you’re fucking making me crazy. Look at those tits. Do you want it right here? Is that what you want?”
“No!”
He grabbed my chin. “Your pretty little mouth says no, but your body says yes.”
He was wrong. There wasn’t a single part of me saying yes to this.
“Stop!” I yelled.
He clapped his hand over my mouth and angled close. “Don’t raise your fucking voice, or you’ll get us both arrested.” Then he slowly lifted his hand. “You don’t want to spend the rest of the summer in jail, do you?” He shoved his hand down my pants and pawed at my pussy.
Bullshit! I was about to be raped. If I caught someone’s attention, I wouldn’t be arrested.
“Help!” I screamed.
He smashed his mouth over mine again, muffling the sound. While I gagged, his fingers worked their way into my slit.
Oh god! I had to stop this.
I screamed again. Tears flooded my eyes, blurring my vision. I bucked against his bulk, desperate to break free. Disgust sent bile surging up my throat.
This wasn’t sexy! It was terrifying.
And horrible.
And, oh God, why wouldn’t he stop?
Suddenly my would-be rapist flew backward. Losing his support, my weight shifted. I tumbled forward, his grip on my wrists taking me with him. My wrists broke free as the world around me rocked. My knees slammed the pavement and the air left my lungs in a gust as pain flamed up my legs. I curled my body into a ball.
What was happening? Was he about to beat me?
As the wave of agony peaked and gradually eased, I became aware of my surrounding, of sounds.
Men’s voices. Yelling.
The bang of metal striking metal.
Dull thuds. Feet scuffling.
“Fucking bastard! I’ll kill you.”
I knew that voice, didn’t I?
“She ain’t yours, Walker. So back off!”
Yes, yes I did. It was Clay.
Blinking back tears, I rolled onto all fours and crawled away from the brawling duo.
“I told you to keep your fucking hands off her.”
“I don’t have to listen to you.”
When I was fairly certain I was out of the way, I sat upright, finding two figures next to the trash cans. Both large. Both strong. They were lunging at each other. Arms swinging.
“You do have to listen if you want to keep your fucking job,” Clay growled.
I dragged my hand across my eyes to try to clear them better.
They were fighting. Clay and Will.
Over me!
“So you’re gonna fire me for dipping my dick into the same whore you had? What the fuck, man?” Will scoffed.
Whore? Me? Now I was ready to kick his ass myself!
Clay’s face morphed into a scarlet mask of fury. “She’s no whore!”
“She is. They all are. You said so yourself.” Seeing his hat, which had been knocked off his head, Will sauntered over to it and bent to scoop it up.
Mistake. Stupid mistake.
“Not fucking Morgan!” Clay took full advantage of the moment, launching his body at Will. They both tumbled to the ground, Will landing on his stomach, beneath an out-of-control Clay. When Clay grabbed a handful of Will’s wavy sun-bleached hair I was actually a little scared for him, despite the whore remark.
Without thinking, I pushed to my feet and charged toward them. “Stop it!” I screamed.
Clay bent over Will, bashing Will’s head into the pavement. I grabbed at Clay’s arms but I couldn’t hold on. That little bit of fear blossomed into full-blown terror. I couldn’t see Will’s face, but the concrete was spattered with scarlet blood. Who could survive having his face pounded into concrete? Nobody! I couldn’t stand by and watch anyone get beat to death.
I hooked my arm around Clay’s and held on for dear life screaming, “Clay, stop! Stop!”
Ohmygod! What if he won’t stop? He could beat Will to death.
“Clay!” I screamed as I crashed into his back when he reached for Will’s head again.
If he kills Will, he’ll go to prison. His life will be ruined. He has to stop!
“Clay, you fucking bastard stop it now!” I pounded on his back. I pulled his hair. I clawed at his arms.
Finally he rolled off Will.
Was it too late?
Everything went silent. My heart thumped in my ears. My breath sawed in and out of my lungs. I wobbled to my knees.
Will was sprawled next to the trash can, bloody, unconscious.
Oh God, it was.
Too
late.
Chapter 9
Time stood still.
Clay stared into my eyes. His face was deep plum. Yet his expression was totally unreadable.
“Clay, what have you done?” I whispered, my stomach doing flips inside my body. I felt sick. This was so wrong.
So terrifying.
So overwhelming.
I was frozen. Shocked. Locked in a straight jacket of confusion.
Will needed help. Now. And yet I was too terrified to make a move. I didn’t want Clay to get in trouble for what he’d done. After all, he’d done it for me, to protect me. And yet…
“He had no fucking right to touch you,” Clay spat between gritted teeth.
“You’re right. He didn’t.” I couldn’t disagree with that statement. Will had crossed the line. By a mile. But this…I wouldn’t wish that kind of beating on my worst enemy. “I mean, look what you did!” I stabbed a finger at Will’s still, lifeless form.
“Yes, I beat his ass. And I’d do it again. I’d kill the fucker if I had to, to protect you.”
“No, Clay.” Finally breaking free from the grip of shock, I grappled for my phone, lost somewhere in my purse. “This wasn’t the way to handle it.” Was Will dead? I prayed he wasn’t! Gently, I moved his head.
“Get the fuck away from him!” Clay looped an arm around my waist and swung me away before I could check for a pulse.
“Clay, what are you doing?” I yelled as I kicked my legs and flung my arms. “Let me go. I need to see if he’s alive—“
“I don’t give a shit if he’s alive.” He hauled me several feet away before setting me back on my feet. Looming over me, he said in a cold, clipped voice, “That bastard touched you.” His gaze dropped to my torn top. “He deserved it.” He unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged out of it, and handed it to me. Underneath he had on a tank, the bandages gone, revealing the red scar on his shoulder. “Here.”
“Thanks.” I stuffed my arms into the sleeves and quickly buttoned the front. It was nice that Clay cared. Really nice. But I was a little unsure about Clay now. I’d never seen anything so brutal. “No, Clay. He didn’t deserve to be beat to death. He deserved to be arrested.” I tried once again to check Will but Clay dragged me away from him once again. “Dammit! Stop that.” He sure wasn’t moving like a guy who’d been shot recently!
“He knew the consequences. I warned them all before they went back to work. They knew what would happen if any of them touched you.”
Okay, so he wasn’t going to let me touch Will directly. I could still help him. I dug in my purse for my phone. “What are you talking about?” There. At the bottom. I yanked my phone out and poked 9-1-1.
“You’re mine.”
“What?” I snapped just as the dispatcher answered my call.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” the dispatcher repeated.
“There’s an unconscious man in the fairgrounds. Behind the pizzeria booth,” I babbled, my mind totally focused on what Clay had said, not on what I was saying. Or the dispatcher.
“You’re mine,” Clay yanked on my elbow, dragging me farther away from Will.
“Stop it!” I yelled.
The dispatcher said something.
“I won’t stop it!” Clay shouted as he continued to pull me. “You have no idea how fucking dangerous that asshole—all those assholes are!”
Dangerous? What was he talking about? Sure, Will had been way pushy. Hell, he’d practically raped me, right there, in the middle of the fair. But why was Clay practically calling him a murderer? If anyone deserved to be labeled that, it would be Clay right now. “What are you talking about?”
“They’re working for half the normal hourly rate. Why do you think that is?” he asked, circling around me so his bulk was between me and the still very unconscious and unthreatening Will.
“I don’t know.” One hand gripping my phone, I threw my arms in the air. I was so fucking confused. What was he trying to say? What the hell was going on? “I didn’t realize they were working for cheap. To me the employee cost was way too high.”
The dispatcher said something again, but with Clay’s face in mine, I couldn’t concentrate. I hoped help was on the way because I was doing nothing to help anyone at this point.
“The cost isn’t high when you consider the number of men you have working the ranch.”
“So what?” I tried to skirt around him but he stepped in my way, blocking my path. “Would you get the hell out of my way?”
“He’s a fucking convict, Morgan!”
Convict?
My heart slid to my toes.
“What?” I stammered.
“A convict. Prisoner.” Clay stabbed an index finger at Will. “They all are. Out on work-release programs.”
“Will?”
“Yeah, Will.”
“Mike, too?” If so, Harper and I were going to have a face-to-face pronto!
“Yeah, the whole fucking crew. Mike too… well, he was. He’s been out of the program for a couple of months. It was my idea to hire them. And my responsibility. That’s why I didn’t want them working for you without me. But then I was shot and you needed the help so bad. I warned them.”
Still frozen in place, I looked down at the subject of our discussion, who was now semi-awake and moving. Alive. Breathing. At least Clay wouldn’t be going to prison for murder. Maybe Clay hadn’t beaten him as badly as I thought. I’d been so focused on stopping him, I hadn’t really seen what was going on. “What did he do?”
“I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I reviewed his file. But I know this much, he shouldn’t be here.” Following the direction of my gaze, Clay looked over his shoulder. “Cops are on the way, you bastard. You’re going back to prison.”
“To hell with that.” His face swollen and already horrifically bruised, Will struggled to his feet.
Clay lunged at him. “Don’t make me kick your ass some more.”
This time Will deflected the blow with an arm. “Fuck that! I can’t go back to prison.”
Despite me holding onto his right arm and using all my weight to try to pull him back, Clay stomped up to Will, stopping when they were chest-to-chest. “You should’ve thought of that before you tried to rape my woman.”
My woman?
“Nobody told me she was yours, Walker.”
“I told all of you assholes to keep your hands to your fucking self.” Clay smacked Will’s chest. “That includes you.”
“I didn’t know, man.” Will lifted his hands, surrendering. “Look, I didn’t hurt her. And I promise I won’t lay a finger on her again, not one. How about you let me go this time?” His bloodshot, pleading eyes found mine. “What do you say, boss?”
Shit, did he have to drag me into this? I didn’t know what to do. He’d practically raped me. In fact, he would have if it hadn’t been for Clay.
He’d torn my clothes. He’d shoved his hands down my pants and treated me like a piece of meat. Did that deserve imprisonment?
Sure, it did. Especially since he might have been arrested for a similar crime before.
Another thought crossed my mind. If he attacked another woman, wouldn’t I be responsible if I let him walk?
I couldn’t take that chance.
I glanced at Clay and nodded. “Okay, stop him. But please don’t hurt him anymore.”
Moving with unbelievable speed, Clay sprung on Will, knocking him to the ground, and holding him there with a knee on the center of his back until help arrived.
“You fucking asshole!” Will yelled. “I’ll get you back for this.” He tried to swing at Clay but he couldn’t. Not when he was flat on his belly on the sidewalk.
I turned my attention to the dispatcher, still talking in the phone. “I’m here. I’m okay. A friend is holding the man down, on the ground. He…” I swallowed. “The man attacked me. He tried to rape me.”
“Hold on. Help is almost there.”
An hour later we were finally free to leave. By
then I was totally exhausted. I’d had to tell at least a half-dozen different police officers what had happened between me and Will and Will and Clay. At one point I wondered if Clay might be hauled off to jail too. After all, he’d beaten Will up pretty bad. But in the end the officers didn’t find any reason to arrest Clay.
On the other hand, Will was taken to the hospital to be checked out…in handcuffs. Chances were he wouldn’t be back to work on the ranch anytime soon.
Now that we’d both been thoroughly interrogated by the entire Dawson police department, we stared at each other and released a deep sigh of relief.
After all the chaos, the questions, the whispering onlookers, it was so quiet. What had happened was starting to sink in. Like, really sink in.
I’d almost been raped. By one of my own employees.
Clay stopped him.
Clay helped me.
Again.
And once more I’d freaked out.
“I didn’t have a chance to say this earlier, but thank you.”
Rubbing his hurt shoulder, Clay gave me a lopsided smile. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear those words come out of your mouth.”
And I’d never expected to hear him say I was his. Not after the conversation we’d had at his house.
I motioned to his shoulder. “Are you okay? You’re rubbing your shoulder.”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
In the distance the mellow sounds of a song echoed.
The fair. I’d forgotten where we were. I wasn’t in the mood to be in public anymore. I just wanted to go home and chill out.
But I needed to find Harper first. I needed to warn her about Mike.
As I texted her, I felt my lips curling into a semi-smile. “I’m so done for tonight, but I love this song.”
Clay took my hand in his. “Dance with me, Morgan.”
“Not now.” I swept my arms out in a wide arc. “I have to find Harper. She’s here somewhere, I think. With Mike.”
“I’ll help you find her.” Turning abruptly, he led me the other way, back toward the center of the fairgrounds. As we walked, the music drifted to us on a scented breeze, Crickets singing along with the band.
I looked down at our hands, clasped together, and smiled.
