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“Then take a day off.” I pick up my cup. “Take two days off.”
“Now you’re just fucking with me.” He turns on his boot and storms to the door. “Also heard from a couple of people that Autumn just almost got assaulted”—the blood drains from my face—“by Mrs. Cartwright in the middle of Main Street.” My heart beats when he says who it was.
“I don’t know why you would think I care,” I say tightly, ignoring the way my heart laughs at me. “The only thing I want to know about Autumn is when she is getting the fuck out of Dodge.”
“When are you going to give it up?” he asks me, but he doesn’t wait for me to answer. “That girl did what needed to be done, and she has been paying for it ever since.” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, and it’s a good thing because I don’t have an answer. All I can do is swallow down the lump in my throat.
I wait until I hear the back door shut before I close my eyes and let go of a breath I was holding. But closing my eyes doesn’t help, because all I see is Autumn, but not the Autumn from before, the Autumn writhing under me. Arching her neck as she took my cock. The thought makes the coffee in my stomach lurch.
Showing up at her house wasn’t something I planned to do, storming to her, also something that wasn’t planned. Fucking her, definitely not what I planned. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever think about fucking Autumn. Then if that wasn’t bad enough, I spent the fucking night. I collapsed on the bed beside her, opening my eyes and seeing the dark—not knowing where I was for a second—and then seeing her sleeping on her side, legs to her chest, shivering. I moved her as I covered both of us and then fell right back to sleep. It was to rest my eyes for a second, but the next thing I knew the alarm was blaring and I opened my eyes and saw her head. I was hoping to get out of there before she woke up but who was I kidding, the fucking alarm would wake the dead. I don’t want to think about last night and I most definitely don’t want to think about the shit show that was the morning after. Sadly, all I can do is hear her words in my head,Because unlike you, this is the first time I’ve had sex in eight years. She was lying, she had to be lying.
I don’t have a chance to sit down and think about it more when my phone beeps in my back pocket, and when I take it out, I see the text is from Emmett.
Emmett:Arrived early.
A man of few words, I get up, finish my coffee, and rush outside. The sun hits me right away as I make my way over to the barn, seeing the trailer is being unloaded. “It’s going to be a good day, boys,” I declare when I get close enough to them. “It’s going to be a good day.”
“Who are you?” Rowan, one of the ranch hands, asks.
“He got laid last night,” Emmett says, trying hard to hide the smile, so he looks down but not before I glare at him. “You want to keep shit a secret, don’t come to work branded.”
“It’s a bite.” I rub where I know exactly the fucking mark is. I can still feel when her teeth bit into me and then sucked in.
“Yeah, from a vampire,” Rowan jokes. “I wouldn’t go back if I were you.”
“Trust me,” I mumble, “I’m not going back there ever a-fucking-gain.” I clap my hands. “Now, if we are done talking about where I put my dick last night, how about we get to work, boys?”
“I never want you to say that sentence again,” Rowan grouses with a look of disgust over his face. “I don’t ever want to think about where you put your dick.” He looks at Emmett. “Just thinking of his dick, I might be sick.” We both laugh at him as he turns and walks toward the barn, shaking his head the whole time.
“You scared him,” Emmett says. “Good job.” I nod at him, walking to the fence and leaning on the top rail, watching the horses being unloaded. One of them catches my eye right away. She’s light brown, almost tan, her eyes look around like a deer in headlights, and she’s jumpy with every single noise that is going on around her. Walking around the fence and going into the yard, I go straight to her. She backs up two steps, her eyes on me. “It’s okay, girlie,” I coo softly, holding out my hand. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She lets me get close enough to her to pet her muzzle. “That’s a girlie.” I get closer to her.
“I guess you picked another one,” Emmett notes, and I look over to see him on his horse. “I was told she was the most skittish of the whole bunch. We might have to get Lilah in here for a bit,” he says, almost annoyed that she has to come out. He tolerates certain people, but Lilah isn’t one of them. I don’t know what about her gets under his skin. Whenever she’s around or we have to bring her in, he’s the first one to leave and not be bothered talking to her, yet he’s the last one there watching her.
“You aren’t skittish,” I whisper to her, “are you, girlie?” I look over at Emmett. “Goldilocks.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon unloading the new horses and getting them acclimated in their new stalls. When the sun goes down, I walk out of the shower and head over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I look at what to make myself for dinner. I settle on grilling a steak and some veggies. Twisting open a bottle of beer, I stand here and wait for it to be ready, looking over at the barn and wondering what Goldilocks is doing.
I sit down at the island to eat my steak, ignoring how quiet the house is and how the silence is now almost deafening. Whereas for the last eight years, all I wanted was the quiet. I rinse off my plate and put it in the dishwasher before I walk out of the back door. My routine every single night is going for a walk after dinner. Except this time, I stop by the barn before I head for my walk. The sun has set, and the stars twinkle in the sky. The sound of crickets fills the night air as I walk through the grass toward the red barn. Walking in and going straight to her stall, I find her with her ass in the corner of the stall as she faces out, looking around. “Hey, Goldie,” I say, “you having a good night?” I open the gate and walk in. “Yeah, me neither,” I tell her, walking to her side and rubbing her neck. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.” I stand in her stall and stay with her for I don’t even know how long.
Walking out and heading to the woods, I move with my head down as I walk the trail until it goes off the path. I don’t even know where I am until I look up and I’m staring at her house. The whole house is dark in the night. Not a light is on, but I see the swing moving.
She sits on it, not like she was lying down yesterday. No, today she’s sitting, holding her knees to her chest as she lays her head on them. The bottle of whiskey sits beside the swing. It’s exactly where it was this morning when I took off. My feet move before I have a chance to think about why I’m even here.
She must hear me walking toward her because her head comes up, and I see her glare. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Chapter Twelve
Autumn
I listen to the sound of crickets chirping nearby, the taste of whiskey on my lips as I lick them. I wonder if I should take another pull of the bottle. It’s been a fucking day and a half, to say the very least. I got home and immediately took a hot bath, hoping it would make it somewhat better, but it didn’t. Walking outside and seeing the bottle of whiskey beside the swing was a sign I should drink my sorrows away. So I took a couple of pulls and the tears fell, freely. I replay the day, starting with the shit with Charlie to the letter and then running into Mrs. Cartwright.
I was adamant to my brother and my father that I wasn’t going anywhere. I was being as brave as I could be in their eyes, but the minute I got home and was able to let it out, I did. This is my home and where I want to be, but it doesn’t mean it is easy for me. It also doesn’t mean that I belong here. Maybe I don’t, and perhaps I’m just dragging out the inevitable, but I’m not going anywhere for the moment. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to crawl in a hole and just bury my head. Doesn’t mean it isn’t killing me a little staying here. Little do they know how I’m breaking inside more and more. I thought there was nothing left to break. I must have been wrong.
I hear the rustling of leaves and look up, his eyes on me as he walks toward me. All I can do is glare at him. In another fucking T-shirt that molds to his chest, and now that I know what is under it, my hands itch to touch him. His jeans hang on to his hips as he walks toward me. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I put my feet down and wipe the tear away, but another one joins it. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I say louder, my voice almost echoing in the quiet night. “Can you, for fucking once, just let me be?” He stops in front of the railing, and I walk over to it, putting my hands on it and spreading them on the railing. “Like, just let me fucking be.” I can’t help the tears that come down my face. “I get it, you hate me. Trust me, I get it. But can you fucking for once just go away and let me be?” I again don’t wait for him to say anything. “This is the only place I can fucking breathe.” I lift my hand to my house. “It’s my safe space. Leave me to my fucking safe space, Charlie.” I take a deep inhale. “Please just leave me to my fucking safe space.” I start to walk away. “You can spew all your hate in the street like everyone else does,” I say softly, “you don’t have to come to my house to do it.”
I take one step forward when he speaks, “What did she tell you?” I close my eyes, not surprised he heard about the scene in the middle of Main Street.
I turn in my spot. “Why do you fucking care?” I ask. “Is it because you weren’t there to witness it and add more fuel to the fire? Is that why you care?”
