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Stealing the Cowboy's Hat: Chosen Book 18

Page 7

by J. D. Light


  "Don't pull it out on your own," Hollyster said, batting those eyes innocently. "I'd hate for you to bleed out like Richardson nearly did."

  Grayson sent my mate an exasperated look, but just rolled his eyes as two of his men squatted down, taking the guy's arms over their shoulders and lifting him off the ground.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as the little tiger moved slightly and we both turned at the same time to see his eyes open slowly, blinking up at the man holding him. "Oh, Crawford! Thank God. Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, Linc, I'm fine." The big guy stood, scooping the smaller one up into his arms and moving toward the stairs. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine. I heal fast, remember?"

  The guy smiled and nodded, moving up the steps. "Right. Shifters. Your brother is going to kill me for letting you get hurt."

  "Pft. My brother can suck a duck. Plus, he thinks you walk on water. Somehow this will turn into my fault. Just wait."

  They disappeared around the corner, the last people besides Grayson, Recker, my mate and me to leave.

  "We're never doing this again," I growled, grabbing Hollyster and pulling him into my arms.

  He batted those eyes at me, making me scowl. "But I had fun."

  "And we can have fun stabbing people as partners, but I absolutely refuse to spend that long away from you again, not knowing whether you are safe or not," I growled, making my mate shudder a slow smile creeping up his face.

  "You really do know how to talk dirty to me, don't you?"

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  THE FOLLOWING HAS NOT BEEN PROPERLY EDITED YET.

  My Hero: Chosen Book 19

  Prologue

  Lincoln

  The yelling woke me, but it took a couple, groggy moments to realize it was coming through the open window. I left it open more often than not, now. Always hoping to catch a glimpse of Crawford moving around since his window faced mine.

  I moved slowly through my dark room, stumbling because I both couldn't see and because I was still only half awake.

  There he stood, just inside his door, completely shirtless. His muscles moved smoothly as he breathed through his obvious anger before turning his back to me and facing the door to his room. John Russell stumbled through then, obviously drunk as he bounced off the frame and glared at it like it moved into his path.

  "Don't think I won't knock the shit out of you, boy! Where the hell did you put my keys?"

  "Would you stop yelling? Leboney has a test in Spanish tomorrow. She can't afford to be kept up all night by your drunken bullshit!" Crawford said squaring his shoulders.

  I watched the anger bunch in his body from where I was, the tightness of his skin bringing out the weirdly shaped scar on his left shoulder blade. It looked like a burn in the shape of a fishhook. Maybe a harpoon? I knew he liked his piercings and tattoos, though he really was too young to have the latter, but a burn seemed so extreme and I wondered if he'd put it there.

  The fist that connected with his face had him stumbling backward, but he managed to keep his feet under him before he fell.

  I gasped, throwing my hand over my face and praying that I hadn't cried out. The man actually hit his son in the face. He'd balled up his fist and punched his son in the face. What was worse, Crawford recovered and turned back to his father like it was completely normal to be punched in the face by the man.

  "Give me my fucking keys!"

  "You don't need to be on the road. You'll kill somebody!"

  John glared at his son. "I'm not that drunk. Just a little buzzed," he said reasonably, but the slur called him a liar.

  "I'm not giving you the keys." Crawford's voice sounded so cold and hard. Not at all like the way he usually sounded. "Go lie down and sleep it off and I'll give you your keys in the morning."

  "You think you're the fucking boss of me, now? You're a big man, now?"

  "Just go to bed, Dad. I'm not giving you the keys." He was firm, but Kyler heard the dejection in the words.

  Eighteen seemed too young to be broken by life.

  I was surprised to see John turn and stumble back out of his son’s room. The man must have realized he was in no state to continue the fight.

  Crawford walked to his own window and leaned out. I couldn't see his eyes. Only his silhouette, but I imagined he was looking in the direction of my window. I was far enough inside, and my room was pitch black, so I knew he couldn't see me.

  I almost flipped the light on to let him know that I was there, but something about the moment and his slumped shoulders made me feel like he would probably be embarrassed that I'd witnessed it.

  I knew he would when he slid to the floor and put his face in his hands, resting his elbows on the seal.

  I sat there for almost an hour, watching him struggle to get himself under control. And the entire time I fought the urge to go to him and comfort him while crying silently in my own room.

  The next day, everyone asked about his bruised cheekbone. He gave them all some bullshit story about bending to get something off the floor and catching it on the corner of the table, but I knew. And with every lie he told, my heart broke a little more.

  Crawford Russell had to be so lonely.

  He graduated the following week with my brother, and soon they'd be off to college together, leaving me behind. But maybe he'd be able to make a happy life away from this place. Away from his horrible father.

  ***

  Crawford

  I couldn't allow himself to regret what had happened. Even if it meant that I would have to give up any chance I might have had at college. Even if it meant never seeing my best and only friend Decker or Decker's beautiful younger brother, Lincoln.

  Lincoln. Sweet, gorgeous, Lincoln. He'd saved me. I knew that. I'd like to think that I would have eventually had enough of my dad beating the shit out of me and would have finally hit back, but I knew I wouldn't have ever gotten the nerve unless he'd hurt Leboney. My father's horrendous discipline from the one and only time I'd fought back, had ingrained in me the lesson it was meant to. Just stand there and take it.

  Tonight had been different. My father had been too far gone in his rage to stop. John Russell had been well on his way to beating his son to death. And then what would happen to Leboney? The thought of my sweet sister being left to take care of herself in the system, left me cold.

  But she would be safe now. I'd make sure of that. I'd been saving up for a day like this since I was fifteen. I hadn't expected it to happen quite so quickly. Had actually expected to work another summer to save for it, but Lincoln knocking my dad out cold had forced the issue a bit.

  It had started the way all the bad nights started. It was the weekend, which meant my dad had popped the tab on his first beer at ten o'clock in the morning and had been passed out drunk by three. I should have known better than to stick around. I should have taken Leboney and the keys to my dad's car and stayed somewhere else for the night. But I'd had yet another freaking migraine and the idea of going outside in the bright summer son had been too much.

  John was always meaner when he passed out in the middle of the day. When his eyes popped open at seven that evening, he'd taken one look inside the beerless fridge and boozless cabinet and gone in search of his keys. Key's I'd had been hiding from my dad since I was twelve after seeing a horribly graphic video on drunk driving.

  But when
my father wanted more to drink, he wanted more to drink and the fact that his few hours of sleep hadn't been enough to combat the drunkenness from earlier in the day, wouldn't stop him from getting behind the wheel of a car and hunting down the nearest liquor store.

  I couldn't allow him to drive. It was my responsibility to keep the town safe. Just like it was my responsibility to keep my father away from my sister when he was like this.

  If I'd just fought through the pain and gotten us out of there, I wouldn't have found myself in the middle of the same fight I always had with my dad. Over the fucking keys.

  We'd had this fight so many times. I honestly couldn’t say what was different this time around. Usually it was a shot to the jaw or a few to the ribs. Stuff I could easily blame on football or a fight.

  But this time was different. My father had followed me to my room, punched me in the face and then jumped on me, trying to strangle me. Because of the migraine, I'd never seen it coming. Hadn't had time to send Leboney out of the house or to her room.

  It was her screams that kept me coherent when the blackness tried to take me the first time, but even they couldn’t save me the second.

  But Lincoln had. One minute I'd been looking up into the unrecognizable and horrifyingly angry face of John Russell and the next I was coming to and looking into terrified, tear filled, sable eyes while soft hands brushed the hair away from my face, his melodic voice begging me to be okay.

  I would give anything for him not to have seen me like that. Anything for him not to have to see anything like that. But as I focused on the man lying on the floor of my bedroom next to a broken beer bottle, I'd never been more thankful to anyone in my entire life. He'd done what I never could. He'd fought for me.

  "Is he dead?" My voice was horse and my throat hurt almost as much as his head. Leboney's sobbing was background noise to the thundering of my heart.

  "I had to," Lincoln said, wrapping his arms around my neck and sobbing against my shoulder. Later I would remember that he'd wrapped himself around me completely. His arms, his legs. Holding on for dear life. Something I'd always dreamed about. But at the time, all I could think about was the way my father didn't seem to be breathing.

  Still holding Lincoln, I scooted closer to my father, careful to avoid the broken glass and felt the man's neck for a pulse. The fluttering against my fingers made me breathe a sigh of relief, but the knowledge of what the man would do once he woke up had me scrambling.

  Lifting Lincoln off of my lap, I stood and then dragged him up with me. "He's alive, Linc. But you have to go home. He can't know that you were here, okay? He'll hurt you."

  "What?! I'm not leaving you two here!" He sounded hysterical and my heart throbbed with something I didn't understand at eighteen.

  I grabbed his face and looked into his beautiful brown eyes for what I suspected would be the last time and wished I was brave enough to kiss him. "I promise, I'll take care of Leboney and me, but I need you to swear that John Russell will never know you were here tonight. Please, Linc. I need you to swear."

  His forehead creased in confusion, but he nodded. "I swear. But what about you? Are you going to call the police?"

  "We'll be fine. No police, okay?" I couldn't tell him I was leaving. I was afraid he'd convince me to stay, and if we called the police, I couldn't leave town with my sister and she'd end up in foster care.

  "Okay."

  "Just go home, Linc. Please. I have to know you're safe."

  He nodded and I gave him a gentle push toward the door. Again, I was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him or hug him. Something to convey how much I cared for him and how grateful I was, but even knowing I was leaving town didn't give me the bravery needed to make a move on the most amazing human I'd ever known.

  "Linc?" He stopped and turned to look at me and I smiled. "Thank you." It was a whisper. Maybe less than, but he heard. Nodding, he smiled sadly and walked away.

  THE FOLLOWING HAS NOT BEEN PROPERLY EDITED YET.

  Tempting Blalock: Terra Mortis Book 8

  Prologue

  Blalock

  I pretended not to pay attention as Ragyn explained what it felt like to have a mate. The obsession, the need to be around them at all times. Lexic was eating it all up… and I was coming to a realization that scared the shit out of me.

  Glancing back down at my phone where I was pretending to play a solitaire game Lexic had gotten me addicted to, I tried not to make eye contact with the demon king. Of all the people in this room who might be able to see through my outward calm to my inward panic, Grey would.

  But how could I not be having a reaction when the evidence was being presented right there in front of me. Longing? Check. Feeling of loss when they weren't in the room? Check. An unbelievable attraction that nearly left you breathless when they so much as brushed their skin against yours? Fucking check.

  I had a mate. What the hell was I going to do with a mate? A really smart, really beautiful mate who was way too good for me and would gain absolutely nothing by being stuck with my grumpy ass.

  It wasn't like these feelings were new. I'd been fighting them for years. At least four. Ever since Grey had moved me into the castle during a time when he was getting threatening letters that turned out to be another demon, hoping to scare the demon king into giving him something valuable.

  I'd tried to go back to my own home, but he'd insisted he liked my company… and I'd felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest every time I thought about leaving the castle. About leaving Lexic.

  Four years of yearning for something I knew I had no right to. Four years of wishing I could have just one taste of pouty gray lips. One glimpse at the silvery expanse soft skin. Four years of wanting to hold his warm body against mine as I went to sleep at night. Four years of getting to know the little minion who'd once been shy, but whose position in the castle––secured by his undeniable ability to handle any and everything that was thrown at him––had given him a sort of confidence that made pride fill my chest.

  Four years of not understanding why this yearning never went away. Until today. Until I listened to Ragyn ?? gush about his obsession turned love for Grey, and I realized I knew what he was feeling. I understood it like only someone who was going through all the same things would.

  All these years of wanting with an intensity I didn't understand. No, the feelings were definitely nothing new. Now they just had a name. Mate. Lexic was my mate.

  Meet all my books!

  Chosen Series

  Just Ridley: Chosen Book 1

  Grumpy Old Bear: Chosen Book 2

  Sweet Sutton: Chosen Book 3

  Call Me Baby: Chosen Book 4

  Pretty Angel: Chosen Book 5

  Hot Stuff: Chosen Book 6

  Blondie's 1998 with a Goat: Chosen Book 7

  Precious Boy: Chosen Book 8

  Little Sh*t: Chosen Book 9

  Parker's Silver Lineman: Chosen Book 10

  Awkward Smile: Chosen Book 11

  Blood, Paint and Pumpkin Guts: Chosen Book 12

  Richypoo, That's Not a Bong: Chosen Book 13

  Give Me S'more: Chosen Book 14

  Not All Rednecks: Chosen Book 15

  King Donkey Dong: Chosen Book 16

  Kiss Your Lion Mouth: Chosen Book 17

  Stealing the Cowboy's Hat: Chosen Book 18

  Terra Mortis

  Corrupting Kross: Terra Mortis Book 1

  Forever Young's: Terra Mortis Book 2

  Mating Martigan: Terra Mortis Book 3

  Hearting Cast: Terra Mortis Book 4

  Possessing Ragyn: Terra Mortis Book 5

  Hounding Camp: Terra Mortis Book 6

  Having Ripley: Terra Mortis Book 7

  Tempting Blalock: Terra Mortis Book 8

 

 

  Net


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