28. Augustus

TWENTY-EIGHT

AUGUSTUS

May 4th, 2024

Being locked up in a small town is miserable—a larger one would at least have some level of anonymity. But being a small town, especially one full of busybodies like Moztecha, has proven just how little privacy there really is. People—people not related to the justice system whatsoever—have wandered through the small jail looking at me like I’m a zoo animal. And I suppose in a town where nothing happens, I am.

My six days and seven hours behind bars have been full of lousy meals, prying eyes, and uninterrupted time to think—to plot, to plan. Stetson hasn’t come to see me a single time, but it hasn’t been for lack of effort. I hear her at the front desk every morning asking if she can see me, when can my bail be posted, if I am still alive and breathing; all the things that make my blackened heart soften. Maybe this time apart will be good for us; show Stetson she doesn’t want to live without me.

A smile spreads across my lips.

I know what I have to do—one vague yet menacing text message—and I can get back to focusing on my girl. She doesn’t know the lengths I will go to be with her, especially now that I am so close I can practically taste her, but she will. I just need to get out of this cell.

As any good stalker would do, I’ve done my research on all the potential men in my woman’s life. Nathan was no exception, even though I never expected him to be much of a threat—maybe a passing fancy, a way to explore the local dating pool, but nothing serious. Nathan is far too unserious for my girl. I suppose I should have threatened him sooner, showed him just a flash of my hand, but doing so always increases the risk that Stetson may discover my secret.

And as close as we are now to her being well and truly in my grasp, I think I can risk it. I won’t let her go now, even if she does find out and not like what she sees.

Stetson is mine, and she will accept that fact one way or another.

Once I have this stupid mess with Nathan ironed out, I’ll start my plan to tell Stetson. I know it has to be soon; I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off her much longer and I refuse to touch her until she knows all of me. Loves all of me.

“Augustus Dobbs?” I look toward the rounded man, a red stain dribbling down the front of his tightly stretched white shirt. “Your bail has been posted.”

I stand, stretching my aching legs, and stride from the small yellow and white cell. I don’t bother glancing at the man; he’s no threat to me.

I won’t be back.

Stetson walks into the house in front of me, and I can feel the anger rolling off of her in waves. She’s pissed, and I know she wants me to be scared—it would be the kind thing to be considering what I’ve put her through. But fuck , my dick is rock hard and fear is the farthest thing from my mind.

Breaking the silence, she spins on me. “Are you happy?” She’s tugging on the toe of her boot, hopping around on her other, and I try to keep from smiling. I’m unsuccessful, and my smile only fires her up more.

“Yes, actually.” I’m fucking ecstatic, but I know if I say that, she will most likely fly off the handle.

On second thought, maybe that’s what we need to get past this barrier she keeps assembling between us. I open my mouth, but she beats me to it.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?” I roll my eyes at her, and she huffs angrily. It’s fucking adorable.

“Yes, I’ve been told that. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t right to do it, and you know it. Doesn’t mean you didn’t like it.” My tone is flat, unlike the turbulent emotions rolling in my stomach.

Her eyes roam hungrily over my face, small wisps of hair clinging to her sweaty face.

“If I’m such an asshole, why did you come to check on me every day, Little Filly?” Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t respond. “Didn’t think I’d hear you out there asking about me every single morning? How worried you sounded? It’s a small building, Little Filly, and I heard everything.” I prowl closer. “If I’m an asshole, then you have a kink for men who are assholes. Because I turn you on.”

“Ha, whatever.” She’s trying to push me away, act like she doesn’t care. But this tantrum is showing her deck all too clearly.

I can see her pulse hammering in that soft neck of hers and I want to sink my teeth there, to feel it roaring alongside my own. Her nonchalant words chafe at my fraying nerves because as much as I love that she’s raising her hackles over the idea of losing me, I’m tired of being on the outside of that pretty head of hers. If she wants to use me as a punching bag for her fears and anger, then I wish she’d just fucking swing. I’m quickly getting annoyed with the guessing game.

“Don’t do that. Don’t push me away now. We were making so much progress.”

“Yeah, that was before you got arrested, Gus. Before the fact that you will be going to jail for months, or whatever it is for nearly killing someone, was a factor.” Her voice quivers, and I lick my lips.

“What if I don’t? What will you hide behind then?”

Her eyes sparkle angrily at me, and then a small feral smile tips her lips, nearly sending me to my knees.

“I guess we won’t find out, will we?” Her words are bitter and angry, but I know underneath, it all is fear. And as much as I want to reassure her, I know words mean little to Stetson. She is an actions-or-nothing kind of girl. So, I nod, turn on my heel, and stomp back down the deck stairs.

I haven’t changed my clothes in six days, barely slept a full night’s sleep, and could use a damn shower.

But I’m done putting things off.

I’m turning the ignition in the truck when I hear her voice cutting above the engine. “Where the hell are you going, Gus?”

“To find out,” I yell back and peel out of the driveway. Stetson doesn’t know how far I have gone to get this moment with her. And she certainly doesn’t understand what I will do to keep moving forward— to get her to love me completely . I will burn down this house, this town, this world, and every person in it to be with her.

I watch Nathan from the secrecy of my truck cab, his swollen, purple face making me smile. Honestly, he looks close to normal already, which only makes my knuckles ache to finish what they started. Someone shouldn’t look that good after receiving a good beat down. I obviously didn’t get him hard enough, and that pisses me off.

The strumming of my fingers against the black wheel is the only sound filling the cab beyond my breathing, as I watch the afternoon sun fade into evening shade. Nathan is some kind of town celebrity, especially now that he got so tragically attacked , because people continue to show up to sit with him. They bring casseroles and cakes, cards, and small gifts—showering him with praise and sympathy.

And he fucking eats it up.

Pathetic. Little do they know the pussy didn’t even lift a finger to defend himself.

He smiles at each person, wincing every so often, or gingerly touches his face if the conversations stray too far from him and what he has gone through. It’s sickening, and the longer I sit here watching him, the more I want to snap his stupid neck. The world could do without one more self-absorbed asshole in it.

I won’t, of course. I can’t risk getting caught, not with Stetson in my life. But fuck, do I want to.

The last car leaves his freshly washed driveway, and Nathan remains sitting on his deck watching the street—waiting for more people to arrive, no doubt. Seizing the moment I’ve painstakingly waited for all day, I grab the small black phone from the glove box. The same phone that has a stream of messages between Stetson and me; the same one with the picture of my dick in her mouth. My burner phone, and the one I will soon be getting rid of. I won’t need it.

I have his number saved in the phone, along with several other guys I’ve watched over the years, and quickly type up the short text. It won’t take much—money and standing are the only things that matter to Nathan and his family. It wouldn’t take an FBI agent to figure that much out, but lucky for me, I’m close. Ten years of stalking will make you an expert in such things.

I watch him reach for his cell, the blue light of the screen illuminating his smiling face. And then I watch that smile melt from his features, replaced with panic, eyes wide and mouth slack. He looks up from the screen, his eyes scanning the streets, but he can’t see me parked around the corner, the sky black now, concealing the truck.

He rereads the text over and over—his lips moving with each of the words, and then he stands, straightening his back. Defeat paints his pathetic features—fitting for the man who just laid there and took a beating—and he walks inside, closing both the screen and inside door, sealing out the world, and the demons that haunt him. I sit in the truck for several minutes, waiting for the reply I know is coming.

When my phone buzzes, I glance at it before firing my old truck up with a smile and head back to the small ranch that has become my home.

And the woman who has become my life.

ME: Drop the charges, and any contact with Stetson, or I will tell this town and your ‘betrothed’ about how much gold the golden boy really has. Think her family will want you then?

NATHAN: You win.

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