Hard Rain (Tin Star #1)

Chapter One

FALLOUT

“May? I’m home,” Axel called out, tossing his keys to the small table near the front door.

Silence greeted him. That was weird; she’d either call out from the kitchen or have the music blasting. Usually both.

Heading into the kitchen, he tugged open the fridge and withdrew the carton of milk. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard because May would have his ass if he drank out of the carton. She claimed it was disgusting. He’d always figured it built character.

He filled the glass and chugged it down before tucking it into the dishwasher.

Heading up the narrow set of stairs, he bumped the railing and cursed. Thank fuck the cast was coming off soon. Then he clipped a picture frame on the way up the stairs. Of course he did.

May looked up from folding a dress when he entered their bedroom.

“Hey,” he smiled. “Sorry for the racket.”

When she stayed silent and tucked the dress into a suitcase, his smile died. Wait…what?

“What’s going on?” He moved further into the room.

She sighed and picked up the next piece of clothing from a pile on the bed.

“I’m leaving.”

The fuck?

“What?” he rasped. “Look, I know I’ve been distant…”

“It’s not only that.” She placed the dress into the suitcase. “I’m not happy, Axel.” She turned and met his gaze.

Where the hell was this coming from?

“I’ll do better.” He sat on the edge of the bed with the frilly bedspread. His booted feet pressed the fluffy white rug beneath it, leaving a bit of dried dirt behind. He’d forgotten to remove his boots at the door again. She’d have his hide.

No, she wouldn’t. She was leaving him. Without giving him a chance to make right whatever the fuck was going on.

“I can’t be what you need, Axel. We haven’t been okay for months.”

“That’s not true.” He frowned.

“See? You even refuse to admit it. I think you stay with me because you’re scared.”

“Scared?” he scoffed.

Her lips pressed flat. “Yeah, the big, bad U.S. Marshal is scared.”

“I’m not scared,” he denied. “I thought we were good.” The words sounded stupid the second they left his mouth.

“When was the last time we were intimate?” she challenged.

He blinked. “I’ve been out of town,” he argued, swallowing around a dry throat.

“And before that?”

Axel squinted.

Last month?

No.

The weekend before?

Hell…

Not a date. Not a weekend. Nothing.

His arm ached, and he jumped at the excuse, lifting the sling. “I’ve kind of been laid up.”

She turned on him, her eyes sad. “I loved you so hard, Axel, but it’s not enough for us both.”

She hurried to the bathroom and returned with toiletries.

“Don’t go.”

“Can you honestly say you love me?” She shoved things into the bag.

He stared at her. “I do.”

“Are you madly in love with me?” she pressed.

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

That was all she needed.

“And there’s my answer.”

“Just wait a minute!” He sighed, frustrated. “Is this because I’m bi?”

“Are you?” Her gaze was skeptical.

“What the hell does that mean?” He ground out, irritated as hell.

“I don’t know, Axel, that’s something you need to figure out,” she said.

“You’re talking in circles.” He noticed she hadn’t answered him. Was it because he’d slept with a few men in his past? They were always fleeting.

Her phone pinged and she picked it up, checked it, and placed it down.

“Is that your Uber?” He frowned.

“No, I’m having a friend pick me up. I’ll send for the rest of my things.”

“Screw this, I’ll leave,” he snapped, suddenly out of patience and in pain. “Take the damn house, I never wanted it anyway.”

She stared at him, and he glanced away, not sure why he’d said that.

The words sat sour in his mouth.

Hell, he’d signed the mortgage papers and spent an entire Saturday putting together the bedroom furniture.

Now, he wanted nothing to do with it.

“May?” A man’s voice called up from the bottom of the stairs.

Her eyes went wide. Axel was off the bed, gun tugged from his holster before she could blink.

“Axel!” she screamed, but he didn’t pause on his way across the room.

“May?” The voice grew closer.

A tall, good-looking stranger appeared in the bedroom doorway.

The guy knew where their bedroom was. She had fucking brought him here.

“Jason! I told you to wait in the car,” May cried, desperately grabbing his arm, the one holding the gun.

“Fuck!” The guy stumbled back, almost going over the railing.

“Who the fuck are you?” Axel snarled.

May shoved him back. The only reason she could was not because of his injury, it was his fucking surprise. She wrestled in front of him and slammed the door shut, and she pressed her back to it.

“Get the hell out, Jason. Wait in the damn car!” May screamed.

Axel stumbled back. Now it was his turn to stare at her. Did she seriously think she could prevent him from opening the damned door?

“Move.”

“No.” She sent a text from her phone and then crossed her arms against her chest. “I’m not moving until you calm down.”

“Calm down? How long have you been sleeping with him?” His hand clenched around the handle of his weapon.

“Sit down on the bed, and we’ll talk.” She tipped her chin up.

He glared at her. “Talk then.”

She swallowed. “Jason and I have been seeing each other for two months.”

Two fucking months? While he was out chasing fugitives, she was fucking around.

Bitterness tinged his tongue, and all he could do was stare at her for several moments. “Did you have sex in our bed?”

“No!”

“He knew where the bedroom was!”

“He came over one time, but we didn’t have sex!” she yelled.

“I don’t believe you. We’ve been living together for almost a year, and now you’re saying you’ve been seeing this other guy for the last two fucking months?”

“I was lonely!” she cried, tears welling in her eyes.

“You could have told me before you cheated.” His whisper came out raw.

“I know,” her lip trembled, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough.”

He’d shown up. He’d stayed faithful. He thought that counted for something.

Apparently not.

“He loves me, Axel. Really loves me.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

His jaw tightened.

He hated seeing her cry.

A firm knock sounded on the door, and he lifted his gun. Careful to keep it trained on the floor.

“Move,” he ordered.

“No!” she replied.

“May? Axel? Open the fucking door right the fuck now,” a deep growling voice ordered.

“You called Whip?” He stared at her, open-mouthed.

“He’s the only one you’ll listen to.” May yanked open the door.

Hell…she wasn’t wrong.

Shit.

U.S. Marshal Whiplash Tauber stepped inside like he owned the room, all lean muscle, wild hair, bringing the outdoors with him.

When May ran from the room, ran from him, Whip did the opposite. He moved in, took the gun from his hand, and tucked it into the back of his jeans. Then the marshal snatched up a backpack from his closet and shoved his clothes and bathroom stuff into it.

“Come on,” Whip ordered.

Axel went to argue, but Whip growled. “Get the fuck up.”

Axel charged to his feet.

The next thing he knew, Whip had a grip on his arm and was dragging him down the stairs past a scared May and her new boyfriend and out the front door.

Axel yanked free the second they hit the driveway.

He stalked to the truck, jerked the passenger door open, and slammed it hard enough to rattle the windows.

He barely noticed the drive until the second turn looked familiar.

“Why here?” he asked gruffly when the truck parked in the driveway of Whip’s two-story home not far from his own.

Whip sighed, got out, and Axel followed.

The Fern, Oregon, neighborhood was quiet. Homes were spaced far apart for privacy and surrounded by trees.

“You can stay in my spare room until you figure out what you want to do with the house.”

“I don’t want any of it.” He followed Whip inside and headed straight to the spare room. Dumping his bag on the floor, he stretched out on the queen bed, his feet hanging over the edge.

“I’m sure you’ll want some of it once you’ve come to terms with things.” Whip leaned against the door jamb, arms crossed.

“How long have you known?” Anger suddenly swept through him, and he scowled at Whip.

“A few days is all, May called me last week.”

She told his partner before him.

Jesus, what a fucking mess.

“Fuck off,” he snarled.

“Nice.” Whip’s mouth pressed flat.

“I don’t need your help.”

He didn’t need anyone.

Whip shook his head. “Unpack your shit. I’ll make dinner,” he said, stepping out into the hallway.

Once the door shut, Axel stared at the ceiling.

Third time he’d thought it might actually work.

Third damn breakup.

The room was quiet. Too damn quiet.

He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.

Fuck it.

He was better off alone.