But even I wasn’t that stupid.
With Dusty out there, unaffected by what he’d done to me, there was no way in hell that I was walking out that door and into the open air without at least making sure that I had someone watching my back.
Dusty’s parting words to me were enough to make me freeze in terror: until next time.
“His dad left when he was at an impressionable age,” he said softly. “We were young when it happened and it rocked both of our worlds.”
I looked down at my hands. “His mom lost it. Alana lost it. Everyone lost it and it was up to Tyler to make sure that they didn’t break completely.”
I gritted my teeth. “They owned a horse farm and had obligations. His mother stopped working. His sister started skipping school. Bills weren’t getting paid and everyone, including him, was failing school.”
I swallowed.
“I did his homework for a year,” he said. “I turned that shit in for him and didn’t care one single bit that he was using me. Because that’s what friends do for each other when the other’s world is completely falling apart.”
“Tyler left you for four years,” I snarled at him.
Rome grinned and sat back in his seat. “Tyler didn’t leave me, honey.”
“Really?” I asked. “Because it looks like he left you from my perspective.”
I wasn’t sure why I was getting so mad at Rome. If anyone in this world deserved my ire, it was Tyler and not Rome.
And hell, even then, my anger would still be pointed at the wrong person. All of the fault lay at Dusty’s feet, not anybody else’s.
“He checked up on me every week. He called my mom. Called my dad. Called my sisters and brothers. But, right around that same time, my family and I had a falling out, too. The only reason that I know that Tyler called my mom was because my youngest sister still talks to me. She told me that Tyler checks on me every week and that everyone says I’m perfect.” Rome sounded disgusted. “A person who doesn’t care doesn’t call your mom to check on you once a week for four years.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
He was right.
“Why did he never just call you?” I pushed.
I was angry, but Rome was starting to get through to me.
“Tyler learned a long time ago to keep his emotions bottled up inside, because if he let them out, his family would see that he was struggling, so no one will ever see him struggle. There’s just something inside of him that keeps it all closed up and the moment that he shares his troubles with you, it means he’s broken. Or it means that you’ve finally gotten in deeper than anybody before you ever has.” He leaned back in his chair.
I looked away. “He hurt me today.”
“He didn’t hurt you,” Rome said softly. “That piece of shit Dusty Rhymes hurt you. Tyler just said some things that can be repaired if you’d allow him to fix it.”
I looked down at my hands that were tangling underneath the table.
“My ex-boyfriend turned stalker almost raped me, Rome.” I glanced to the side to make sure that the only other occupied table in this roadside diner wasn’t paying attention. “And honestly? Tyler needs to get over himself. He didn’t even check on me before he started in with the yelling.”
Rome sighed. “He was scared, babe. Then he had his ass handed to him the moment he walked into that surveillance room, by one of his rookie cops, no less and listened to the audio recording of the 9-1-1 call. I’ve never in my life seen Tyler lose it before, but when he came out and you’d been picked up by your dad? Yeah, that was not good. He freaked out. Then he left. I haven’t been able to find him.”
I felt something sharp move through my stomach. “What do you mean you haven’t found him?”
Rome leaned forward.
My eyes followed the movement and it was only then that I saw my father standing there, taking in every word.
I felt something sick slide into my stomach at realizing what my father had heard.
There was no way in hell that he hadn’t heard all of it.
It didn’t take fifteen minutes to fake going to the bathroom.
“I mean, honey, that Tyler has gone out hunting and it isn’t gonna be good.”
I held my father’s eyes.
One day soon, we’d be having a come to Jesus meeting and he wasn’t going to be nice to me either.
“You mind staying here with her?”
My dad’s words had Rome turning and looking over his shoulder to the man at his back, but he looked unsurprised to find him there.
“No, I don’t mind,” Rome murmured. “Keep in mind, though, when you find Tyler, just know that anything you say or do to him won’t be any worse than what he already wants to say and or do to himself.”
My dad didn’t acknowledge Rome’s statement and instead was turning to leave before the words had even finished resonating in the air around us.
“Shit,” I murmured. “I didn’t tell him for a reason.”
Rome’s eyes were warm on me. “You didn’t tell him for the same reason that you didn’t scream it from the rooftops when Tyler came in. You didn’t want either of them to get in trouble. But let me tell you something. That isn’t your decision to make. They have a right to protect the woman that they love.”
I snorted. “Tyler doesn’t love me.”
Rome’s eyebrows went high. “I may not have talked to him in four years, but I still know him as well as I know myself. Trust me when I say that he loves you, probably more than he realizes, but it’s going to take a bit before he admits it.”
Was he right? Did he love me?
Hope bloomed in my stomach, at the same time that the waitress brought us the check.
Before I could pay, Rome handed her a fifty-dollar bill and then stood up before offering me his hand.
I took it.
“Come on, darlin’. I guess you’re coming to my place.”
I followed him out the door and wondered when in the hell I’d become Rome’s responsibility.
Chapter 17
I didn’t know he was planning to breathe so loudly when I agreed to move in with him.
-Reagan talking about Tyler
Tyler
I stared at Dusty through the windshield of my police cruiser.
He was laughing, carrying on and having a grand ol’ time while eating outside at one of my favorite restaurants with some brunette who looked to be roughly the same size and shape as Reagan.
The only difference was their hair.
Reagan’s was curly. This girl’s hair was not.
The passenger side door opened and I wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Bennett sliding into the passenger seat.
The moment the door closed after him, I could tell that he was not happy—and the sad thing was I couldn’t tell if it was directed at me or the man in front of us.
“Reagan wouldn’t press charges,” I told her father.
“We already tried that,” Bennett admitted. “I’ve tried to get a restraining order. No go. Hell, I know a lot of people and I still couldn’t get it done. Short of killing him, something I’d like to do but really can’t, my hands are tied.”
I nodded.
My hands were tied, too.
“I went ahead and submitted the order for her,” I told him. “It can’t hurt to try. Being it’s a different county, we may get lucky.”
Bennett snorted.
“Yeah.” He paused. “Maybe.”
We sat that way in silence for a few moments, watching as Dusty curled his hand around the girl’s shoulder and pulled her in close.
“I want to beat him with his own hand,” I whispered. “I want to hack it off with my pocket knife, then beat the crap out of him with the bloody stump until he sees that what he did was wrong.”
“He won’t ever see wrong,” Bennett explained. “The guy has no fuckin’ conscience. He honestly doesn’t think that he’
s doing anything wrong. It’s like he has these rose-colored glasses on that prevent him from seeing the wrong that he’s doing. It’s sickening and I agree with you. But I’ll do the other hand, that way it’ll take half as long.”
Neither one of us said another word.
Not for a long time.
“I never thought I’d be saying this to you.” He paused. “But I like the idea of you with my girl…even though I know way too much about your past, you did something I’m not privy to today.”
I felt my lips twitch. “I tried really, really fuckin’ hard to stay away from her.”
Bennett snorted. “Yeah? And how’d that work out for you?”
I squeezed the steering wheel a little tighter. “Not well at all.”
Bennett sighed. “You’ll come to family dinner in two weeks? My son’s home on leave and my youngest daughter will be home from college. Make sure you force Reagan to come.”
I looked over at him. “She won’t want to?”
Bennett laughed. “You’ll see what I mean when you get there.”
Then he was gone.
But he didn’t actually leave.
He walked in front of my cruiser and headed in Dusty’s direction.
Once he was close enough for Dusty to see him, he waited for a good thirty seconds, making his feelings known without even saying a word.
I probably would’ve stayed in my cruiser.
I also probably would’ve managed to keep my temper under control, but then he moved his hand up to the neck of the girl he was dry humping and making eye contact with Bennett and without stopping what he was doing to the girl, he mouthed a few unmistakable words.
You can’t do anything.
That’s when I lost my patience.
Getting out of my patrol car, I walked around it and stalked in the direction of the piece of shit that had nearly taken something from Reagan that I’d never have been able to get back.
Brushing past Bennett, I came to a stop beside the girl, who looked at me in confusion.
Dusty snarled at me. “Go away.”
He saw me reach into my pocket and froze when I pulled out my phone.
I’d periodically been getting messages from Rome. The first one was of Reagan’s fingers. Every single fingernail was broken.
The second picture was of the side of her face, where she’d either been shoved against the ground or had fallen in her attempt to get away from him and slammed it against the ground herself. The bruise stretched from the top of her cheekbone to the bottom of her jawline.
The third picture was of Reagan’s forearms—her defensive wounds that she’d acquired while trying to push the piece of shit off of her.
But the pictures weren’t what I was searching for. It was the voice recording.
Pulling it up, I hit play and allowed both the woman and Dusty to hear Reagan’s cries and pleas.
Hell, the three other closest tables heard as well.
It didn’t bother me that they did.
I wanted everyone in the world to know what a piece of shit Dusty was.
Once I hit the minute and a half mark, I looked the girl in her eyes and said, “That was him.”
She jerked out of Dusty’s hold so fast and harshly, that she fell into me.
My body absorbed the blow, but before I could reach up to steady her, she was gone.
My eyes met Dusty’s.
I didn’t say anything. Didn’t threaten him like I wanted to. Didn’t kick his ass, even though it deserved a kicking more than any ass in the world. I also didn’t pull my sidearm out and kill him, although I will admit that the idea crossed my mind and I was tempted to end this piece of shit’s life before he harmed Reagan, or anybody else for that matter, ever again.
He read every word of my hatred for him in my eyes.
And when I was sure he got the message, I turned around and walked away.
Passing Bennett, I headed to my cruiser and prayed that when I got to Rome’s place, Reagan would forgive me.
Because if I didn’t have her in my arms tonight while I faked sleep, there was no telling what I might do.
Chapter 18
Don’t embarrass a guy by telling him his fly is open in public. Do the right thing and zip it up yourself.
-Janie to Reagan
Reagan
“You can take pictures of whatever you can see while I’m fully clothed,” I said. “But you can’t take the pictures of anything underneath my clothes. I might be mad at Tyler, but I’m not stupid.”
Rome chuckled, then started to snap pictures of my injuries with his cell phone.
“There was this chick that filed a report on a teammate,” he started, snapping a photo of the bruise on my cheek. “She was scared to death, had zero money to her name, but she did it anyway.” Rome paused. “She was offered a payoff to let it go, but she wouldn’t take it. She just kept doggedly pursuing it because she knew she was in the right and she didn’t want anybody else in the world to have to go through what she went through. It took her two years, but she finally won.”
I shrugged. “If I file a report on him, he’s just going to go to his daddy and use his ‘get out of jail free’ card. The case will be dropped, or he’ll make me look so bad that I’ll drop it myself. I know how Dusty and Judge Rhymes work. Trust me when I say that I don’t want to get into it.”
Rome sighed. “Nobody is infallible.”
I knew that.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But, I also have to worry about Tyler…and my father. They’re police officers. This shit will be spread far and wide.”
“That’s not going to be something that upsets Tyler, honey,” Rome pointed out. “In fact, when he left, he looked like he was ready to tear the whole goddamn sheriff’s office apart. Trust me when I say, if there is justice to be had, he’s going to make sure you have it. He’s not going to stop until this is fixed.”
I didn’t want to hear that.
I’d tried fighting Dusty before.
He played dirty.
I may not mind getting my fingernails dirty for my work, but I didn’t want to get into the filth that Dusty was capable of hurling my way.
Anything else in the world, I could handle. But the way Dusty played? No. I didn’t want to think about it.
“It’ll be fine,” I told him.
Rome gave me a sardonic smile. “Maybe you don’t know Tyler as well as I thought you did.”
I bared my teeth at him.
Then looked around his sparsely furnished place.
“Why do you live here?” I asked. “And if you’re going to live in such a nice place, why don’t you have furniture? I’m fairly positive that you can afford it.”
Rome snorted. “I can, but I also don’t want to deal with the shit that comes with furnishing it when I plan to sell it.”
“Why do you plan to sell it?” I asked, admiring the view.
Rome cleared his throat. “I bought it for my son…but Tara refuses to allow me to have him and with him being so sick, he hasn’t set one foot in the place even on my days with him.”
I knew what he was thinking.
That his son might not live long enough to ever enjoy the house, so why bother keeping it?
“Tyler’s here.”
I frowned. “How do you know?”
He gestured to something over his shoulder and I felt my stomach tense.
Cameras were set up on the driveway showing Tyler as he pulled up in his police cruiser, coming to a stop right underneath the garage view for the security system. This angle was giving me an unencumbered view of the inside cab of Tyler’s vehicle.
He wasn’t in the jeans and t-shirt that I last saw him in. Instead, he was decked out in his full uniform—navy button up uniform shirt, navy pants, a hat on his head that said Hostel PD and from the bulk of his chest, I could see that he had his Kevlar vest on.
All the other bells and whistles were
there, too. His utility belt, the mic at his shoulder and the blazing gold badge on his chest that declared him a police officer.
I admired him, temporarily forgetting everything that had happened that day and studied every single feature that I could make out.
I couldn’t see his face, though. With the way the night darkened the interior of his vehicle and the light above where he was parked casting shadows along with the hat he had pulled low over his head, I couldn’t make out the expression on his face.
I watched in silence as he leaned over and pressed his head against the steering wheel, resting it there for a few long seconds.
Then he pulled back and then seemed to snap.
His fist came down hard on the steering wheel five times in quick concession and the movement of his body caused his hat to come askew.
The moment that I could make out his face, I realized that Tyler was blaming himself.
“Still think he didn’t regret what he said?” came Rome’s careful reply.
I didn’t look at him.
Instead, I got up from where I’d been wrapped in a blanket on Rome’s couch and hurried to the front door.
Once I was outside, I raced down the steps toward Tyler, who was still in his cruiser, pounding away at the steering wheel.
I reached for the door but stopped when he leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes and looking so defeated that I wanted nothing more than to hold him.
Pressing my hand against the window, I whispered to him. “Tyler.”
There was no possible way that he could’ve heard me.
None.
But his eyes opened and he turned to see me standing there, hand pressed against the glass.
He closed his eyes again, then moved so that his forehead was pressed to the glass where my fingertips were.
It didn’t feel like a quarter inch of glass was separating us. It felt like his forehead was resting directly on my palm.
I clenched my other hand, waiting for him to come to whatever decision he seemed to be weighing.
Five long minutes later, I backed up as he pushed his door open.
Then I was caught up in his arms and he was pressing his face into the crook of my neck.
Too Bad So Sad Page 16
