Commanding Casey

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Commanding Casey Page 11

by Nicolina Martin


  My mind keeps trying to be rational, but my chest aches. I’m not in love with Cole Hooper, am I?

  If I have opened my heart to some guy with a past so dark that he chose to move here, a guy I really don’t know at all, then I’m as stupid as they come.

  I’ll do better. I’ll finish the rest of my time here, then I’ll move to... I don’t know, California maybe. Someplace warm.

  My reaction to seeing Cole at lunch shocks me. It’s like a punch to my midsection. I try to catch his gaze, but he ignores me as if he’s never known me and doesn’t ever want to. My nose tingles with tears that I would rather die than let out. I shove in as much food as my stomach lets me, then I’m out again, darting into Max’s office.

  He sits with his feet on the desk, his hands resting on his thick belly.

  I’m a breath away from resigning, but then anger takes over. I’m not going to let anyone else dictate where I live and work. Unless they’re straight out of prison, with revenge on their mind. That’s another animal.

  “Can I use the phone?”

  Max looks me over, then he spreads his arms and shrugs. “Go ahead. Unless you have secrets you don’t want to share.”

  I flinch and sweat breaks out all over my back. Does he know? Do they know?

  “I’ll come back,” I mutter and decide to spend the rest of my lunch in the tool shed. My heart pounds so hard that I bet it can be seen through all the layers of clothes.

  The generator takes a lot more work than what I had predicted. I thought it was going to be a checkup, maybe replace a part, but I can’t pinpoint the issue and have to leave it off. I pass Max to tell him the bad news. I half-expect him to order me to keep working on it tonight, but he refrains from anything but looking like he has swallowed a lemon.

  Dinner is a misery of rinse and repeat. I fight the ache. I’m air to Cole. I can’t believe it. He’s more of a douche than I’d have ever imagined.

  I shove in the food, then I make my way back to Max’s trailer to call home. I talk to Mom about the neighbors, about who moved and who moved in, she asks if I eat all right. I talk to Dad about the garage, the racetrack, and I talk to my little brother Joshua about school, girls, cars—obviously. He has news that makes me cold to my core. Alex has asked for me.

  I don’t know what to say. Josh goes quiet too.

  “I’m sorry, Case,” he finally says.

  “What did he say?” My mouth is dry and my heart beats so fast I think it will burst my chest open.

  “I only heard. I didn’t speak to him directly.”

  “Did anyone tell him where I am?”

  It’s as if everything has gone quiet. I don’t hear the wind that rattles the office shed, I don’t hear the eternal rhythmic clanks of metal on metal from the front of the pipeline construction.

  “No one knows but Mom, Dad, and me, Case. I promise. You’re good.”

  “Fucking hell. Thanks.”

  I’m dizzy. Nauseous. I’m staying here no matter what. Cole be damned. Shitty sexist comments be damned. Nothing is worse than the thought of having to see that shithead’s ugly mug again. Well, he isn’t ugly. He’s really fucking good-looking in a beach bum kind of way. I thought we had something, a connection. He seemed a bit different from everyone else. We had met a couple of times before the attack, and he was nothing but charming and attentive. I realize now that he was grooming me, priming me. Like a real fucking psychopath.

  I’m afraid.

  That’s the honest truth. I also need a freaking hug and I have no one to turn to except the stone-cold man I share a trailer with. The one who turned his back on me the second I made any kind of demand. I have the worst taste in men.

  The trailer is dark and empty. Cole is nowhere in sight. I go through the motions. My nightly routine. Missing him with increasing intensity with every passing minute. I hate myself for being weak, for having all these stupid feelings.

  I put on pajamas, slippers, and a thick wool sweater. I make tea and flip through the pages of my now twice-read book. Coming here didn’t bring me closure, or even give me a sense of getting closer to my heritage. There’s just nothing here. No spirits from the past, no mystery. It’s just the cold, the snow, and the mountains, and a ruthless plowing through the landscape in the name of profit.

  Cole is a no-show throughout the evening. Finally, I feel compelled to go check if his stuff is still here, or if he’s moved out, but everything is untouched. Seeing his room is a painful reminder of what I’ve lost. Or rather, what I never had.

  I’m well in bed, floating somewhere between being awake and falling asleep, when I hear his steps outside. I hug myself, trying to quell the ache as I bury myself deeper under my comforter. My heart skips a beat when I hear the click of my door opening. I hold my breath, pretending to be asleep as I wait for him to say something. The air thickens and I’m just about to give in and sit up when he closes the door again.

  What in the flying fuck? What does he want?

  Adrenaline from the unexpected visit sizzles through my every cell and it takes hours before sleep finally claims me. When I wake I feel as if I haven’t slept at all.

  As soon as I step out into the hallway, Cole pulls his curtain to the side. He’s only got sweatpants on, and taking in his perfect physique, the bulging muscles and the tattoos wreaks havoc with my hormones. All I feel is his body heavy on mine, strong and hard as he pulls me to him and holds me tight.

  “Sorry,” we both say in unison.

  “You go,” I say. “I’ll just—” I gesture to my room.

  “No, I—” he says and holds out his arm in a gesture of chivalry.

  “Never mind.” I spin on my heels and push the door closed behind me. Stupid.

  “Casey, I—”

  I tense, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t speak again.

  His gaze on me scorches me throughout breakfast. Even though I don’t look at him, I know he looks at me. I don’t know why. I can’t imagine he’s changed his mind, and even if he has, I can’t deal with the ups and downs and the hot and cold treatment. I want everything we did, but I want more and the sooner I accept that he won’t give it, the better.

  “Mech chick!”

  I’m on my way out to head back to the annoying generator when Dover’s voice cuts through the room. I grit my teeth and turn. “Yeah.”

  “Coming out to visit us poor boys today, then?”

  Unease flares up in my chest. Fuck. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  He stands, comes closer. It seems as if the whole crowd holds their breaths. “Not good enough. I expect you out there A.S.A. Fucking. P. You hear me?”

  No one else speaks. The air is so tense you could cut it. “As soon as I can.”

  His eyes darken, and the unease sinks from behind my chest bone to my stomach, a foreboding feeling of trouble brewing. I slip out the door, into the almost constant darkness, before I say something I’ll regret. I have all eyes on me and there are plenty of people in here just waiting for me to make a mistake.

  The walk is only a few minutes. It’s a hidden spot behind the large tent. It’s not really a tent, but tarp firmly attached to a steel frame, making it easy to move, but it’s also sturdy enough to withstand the wind and the angle of the roof steep enough so that the snow doesn’t stay. It does create high walls of snow on the sides, though, and I’ve had to create a narrow path through it. I have rigged a couple of spotlights but around me the shadows are pitch black. I’m completely hidden from the road, and it hasn’t bothered me, but when I hear the soft creaks of steps in the snow my heart pounds harder.

  I stand and turn slowly, clenching a wrench.

  Three men emerge from the shadows between the tent and the tool shed next to it. Dover is at the front.

  It feels as if the blood drains from my face. I fight to keep calm as I clutch the wrench harder. “Can I help you?”

  “It seems like we can help you.”

  I frown.

  “To deci
de to come fix our fucking drill, bitch. I don’t know what the fuck you got against us, but I’ve had it. You’re coming. Now.”

  The three of them keep coming closer. Behind me are the generators, two of them murmuring loudly, spewing out fumes of exhaust, then there’s the giant steel snake of a pipeline, and beyond that nothing but empty darkness.

  I gesture behind me. “Max put me on this. There’s nothing I can do. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”

  Dover steps forward, towering over me, his breath on my face. “You’re fucking right. There’s nothing you can do because you’re only good for one thing, you fucking whore.”

  “Hey—”

  Dover pushes me to the ground and I land on all fours, face first in the snow. I try to get up, but he grabs my nape in a grip so hard tears well up in my eyes. I lose my ski cap and snow gets in beneath my collar.

  “Shut up, bitch. Look at you, like a dog. Bet you need a good fuck, get your priorities straight.” He pulls up my ass to his groin and thrusts his hips, groaning. “Oh, yeah, baby.” The other two laugh.

  “Get the fuck off me!” I twist and wriggle, trying to get out of his grip. My insides crawl with disgust and I’m thankful for the layers of clothes that separate my skin from his.

  “You need to be taught a fucking lesson. I—”

  Dover roars and suddenly lets me go. I scramble to get away and then spin around to see what happens just in time to see Cole slam his fist in Dover’s face. Blood sprays across the pristinely white snow. The two other guys are nowhere to be seen. Dover growls and throws himself over Cole. I dart up and grab Dover’s arm, hanging on it as he aims a punch at Cole.

  “Stop,” I scream.

  Dover shrugs me off as if I’m air and then I slip and fall. I crawl and shove at the snow to try to find the wrench that was ripped out of my hands as I was pushed to the ground. Behind me there are sickening muffled thuds that are still oddly loud.

  “You do not touch Casey again,” snarls Cole and then there’s a thump again. Dover groans. I turn, still on all fours, forgetting about the wrench.

  “Cole! Stop! You’ll get yourself in trouble for nothing.”

  He stands above Dover and hits him again and again. I slip and slide as I fight to get up, then I push Cole, trying to get him off the other man.

  “It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it. Please!”

  Cole pants heavily. Dover holds a gloved hand over his profusely bleeding nose as he gets to his feet. “I’ll fucking kill you!” he snarls before he spits out a spray of blood.

  Cole takes a step closer and raises his fist again, making Dover cower. “I’ll make fucking sure you’re out of here before that, dude.”

  Dover glares at me, his gaze filled with hate, then looks back at Cole. “Is she worth it? Are you fucking her? Is that what it is?”

  At least we can be honest about that. Cole is not fucking me. Never has been. Never will.

  I don’t have time to react as Cole slams his fist in Dover’s face once more. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

  Dover’s eyes gleam with malice as he points at me and then Cole. “I’ll report you to every-fucking-one! Management’s gonna be fucking interested in what you two are doing.” He stands, backs away.

  “Funny that,” I say, moving toward him, “since nothing’s going on, except in your filthy imagination. I’ll be happy to pin sexual assault on your ass, though, you piece of shit.”

  “And she’s got a witness,” says Cole and steps up to stand next to me, shoulder to shoulder, crossing his arms over his chest. “So fire away. It’ll be fun to see you try to weasel yourself out of this.”

  “Fuck you and your whore.” Dover spits again, smearing blood and saliva over his cheek with the back of his glove before he turns and disappears in the shadows.

  I fold over, supporting my hands on my knees, as the adrenaline drains out of me, leaving me a shaking mess. Cole puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “Hey, you’ll be all right. Go to the cantina, grab a coffee. I’ll have a word with Max and make sure neither Dover nor the other two stay another hour on this site.”

  “You don’t have to—I can—” I try to stand, but then I clutch my stomach as it heaves with the rising nausea. “Oh, fuck.”

  “Do as I say, or I’ll carry you there,” he says, full-on caveman again, his orders not to be disobeyed.

  I look up at him, slowly unfolding until I stand properly. His brown eyes are almost black in the dark, but they radiate concern and warmth mixed with confusion and uncertainty.

  In the midst of the leftover shock, my heart bursts fully open again.

  He’s so rough, so cocky, and intimidating, but he’s also only human. He’s in pain, and he needs me just as much as I need him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Casey

  He follows me to the cantina. We walk in silence. Everything that has passed hangs heavily between us. Disappearing behind the counter, into the kitchen, he then comes back with a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll.

  “Jack’s back there. He’s a good guy.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “Shh. Sit. Eat. I’ll be back. Don’t let me catch you with that roll uneaten.”

  He holds my gaze and something flickers through it, something that churns my stomach. In a good way.

  I inhale, then sigh. Deeply. Exaggerating my annoyance. “Yes, sir.” I say it to test the waters, so to speak. See if it’s still cold.

  It’s not. It’s steaming hot.

  “Good girl,” he growls, his voice deepening several octaves, it seems. “Don’t move from here.”

  “You’ll miss your ride out, Cole,” I shout to his retreating back.

  He turns and throws out his arms, shrugging. “That boat sailed a while ago.” Then he disappears out the door, leaving me with the aftermath of the assault. I’m still shaking and my stomach hurts like a bitch. I have no appetite whatsoever and all I can do is nibble at the roll.

  “You okay, kid?”

  I look up. Jack is a man in his early sixties, his face weathered, his hair a constant mess of gray tresses. He’s one of a couple of guys who aren’t fit for the hard work out there anymore, but who have other uses. Kitchen, supplies, janitor duties.

  “How long’ve you been out here, Jack?”

  He sits after gesturing to a chair, waiting until I nod. “This is my third stint since the project started.”

  “What’s the appeal?”

  “Keeps me off the streets.”

  I frown. He shrugs. “Wife left me. I got fired. Couldn’t keep the house. No one rents out to an unemployed. I may have had a stint in jail too...”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “No worries. What’s your deal? What brings a girl all the way up here? This is a rough climate. And I’m not talking weather.”

  I wince. “It’s... a long story. I got my reasons.” Suddenly I think I know how Cole felt that first day, during the ride, when I got too curious. I won’t explain that I got assaulted and nearly raped. That’s just not going to happen.

  Jack stands. Pats my shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it. You look pretty shook up. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  I smile, stunned. We’ve never talked before. Is this Cole’s doing?

  By the time Cole returns, I’ve managed to finish the cinnamon roll and drink my coffee. He gives me an approving gaze, meant only for me. Next to him stands a flustered Max.

  “Keagan.” He clears his throat, rubs his hands, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You wanna file an official complaint?” He winces. It’s obvious he hopes I won’t, and me, I just don’t want to go through that shit again.

  “Are they off the site?”

  “As we speak.”

  “Then I’m good.”

  Cole flinches, his eyes darkening. I shake my head, a barely there movement, holding his gaze. He wants me to file a police report? I so don’t want to make an issue out of it. I just want
to be left alone.

  Max looks like he doesn’t get what I’m saying at first, so sure that I want to get the cops here, then he nods and sighs. “Good. Good. How’s, ehm... the generator doing?”

  I feel serious distaste at going back out into the shadows of that tent. Cole seems to sense my hesitation. “Want some help with that?”

  I look between him and our boss, and when Max doesn’t object, I nod, relieved. “Know anything about an engine?”

  “I’m a quick learner. Show me your skills, Yoda.”

  I try not to giggle. It would look unprofessional. “That, I will.”

  Cole lights up and raises an eyebrow. I fight the smile. He knows his Star Wars. Cool. Again, it makes me realize how little I know about this man.

  Max clears his throat. “Right. Get on it, then.”

  At the back of the cantina stands Jack, his arms crossed over his chest, an approving look on his face. Do I have Cole to thank for this new attitude that I sense? His authority? It stings that I’m not getting accepted on my own merits, but through a man. It’s still better than nothing. I knew this shit would be hard, just not how hard. If I get to see some friendly faces the rest of my time here, then I’m not going to whine about it.

  Max disappears out the door. I tug on my jacket and leave with Cole. He holds up the door for me.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  He looks me over as we descend the stairs. “No, you’re not. Your nose is still pale.”

  I pull up the scarf to cover the lower half of my face. “It’s because the lack of sun.”

  “You weren’t pale a couple of days ago, when I spanked your ass red and hot.”

  And just like that. A few words. Everything washes over me again and heat shoots to between my legs.

  We plow through the snow. Cole extends a hand to help me past a pile, but I don’t take it. “Seems I’ll stay pale from now on,” I counter.

  We reach the lit-up area by the generator. A couple of engine parts lie on a tarp next to it. There’s blood on the snow. Cole kicks at it to bury the proof of what happened, I begin to look for the wrench.

 

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