RIVAL: An Enemies to Lovers Why Choose Country Romance

Chapter 38

“You piece of shit! Beatin’ up a little girl just ‘cuz of a stupid mistake?”

I’m screaming in Clayborn’s face, then hauling back and delivering a blow I know would rock me to my core. Who the fuck does he think he is?

He’s trying to ward me off and I flick my eyes over to a shocked, bleeding, and pale Edith, shoulders curled over her body as she stares at the two of us.

She’s fuckin’ pregnant. Jesus…

I don’t have time to even process it. Is it mine? Shit, it’s gotta be mine, right?

This absolutely disgusting waste of air is slapping at me, but I don’t let his pathetic taps faze me. I’ve never been more thrilled to see blood flowing from his nose, and I want more.

Everything surrounding me fades into a hazy silence when I drop my full weight on him and lean into his face. My nose wrinkles at the stench of him. Stale cigarettes and body odor laced with alcohol seeps from his pores. His smell assaults me, so the hints of flowers and clean, air-dried sheets I grew accustomed to in this room are nowhere to be found.

“So, Clay. Wanna tell me how long you been beatin’ on your daughter? ‘Cuz I gotta tell ya, witnessin’ today only tells me seem to have gotten real comfortable doin’ it. That black eye she had a few weeks ago, that your doin’ too?”

“Fuck. Off!” he spits out, arching his body to move me, but I’m rooted in place and have no intentions of going anywhere. Not until I get my answers. “You ain’t got no right to—”

Digging an elbow into his gut, I hiss, “I got every fuckin’ right, you fuckin’ drunk!” Smiling darkly, I tilt my head to the side and find so much joy when his eyes widen with actual fear. The same fear I only briefly saw pouring out of his daughter. “That’s most likely my baby in that belly you just beat the shit out of. I’m findin’ that my protective instincts are goin’ a bit haywire right now.”

He sputters, shaking his head violently. “Y-You… You!”

“Me,” I sneer, then wrap my hands around his head, digging my nails into his sweat-slicked face and slam his head against the floor. The crack and grunt before he passes out doesn’t bring me enough pleasure, so when I stand, I drive the toe of my steel-toed boot into his side for good measure.

Lifting my head, I turn toward Edith. I need to make sure she’s okay and we have to get her shit out of here. I’ve got my place she can stay at until we figure things out.

And Christ, a baby.

My eyes fly over the room, narrowing when I don’t see her. I hurry to the other side of her bed, thinking she might be hiding, but she’s not there. A haphazard pile of clothing lies in the center of her bed, but no Edith.

Ignoring the pained wheezing coming from the floor, I move around her room, even checking under her bed, only to come up empty. She’s probably downstairs.

The only reason I even came over today was because Corbin called me with news that Clayborn couldn’t find his daughter. She never came home last night, which was unexpected. Edith was always home whenever we hung around here. I needed to ease my worry she was alright and maybe check over at Mason’s place to see if she’d snuck over there.

Guilt hits me when I think back over all the signs that something wasn’t right in this house. The way she cowered and flinched from quick movements, that fucking black eye, worry over upsetting her dad. The man doesn’t deserve that title if it were up to me.

I feel like a goddamn idiot. I am an idiot.

She’s been fighting off her drunk daddy for God knows how long while I was over here, sneaking into her room, playing around and fucking her, then slipping out with some piss poor reasoning.

My feet freeze as if I’ve been cemented in place. Horror fills me when I replay that morning I left over again. My dick was almost inside of her when Corbin and her dad showed up. She shoved me away, terrified and panicked that we were about to be caught.

She shoved me away, and I thought…

Smacking myself in the head twice, I kick Clayborn again on my way out the door and race down the stairs.

“Edith?” The kitchen is empty, so I barrel through the door into the living room. “Darlin’, you hidin’ in here?” I call out, but it’s silent aside from the creak of floorboards above my head where Clayborn is most likely rolling over.

Fuck him. I hope he drinks himself to death.

I want to keep searching for her inside, but my gut tells me she’s not here. It’s as if my heart knows she’s too far away. Pushing aside my growing concern that she’s injured, I focus on finding her. Then I can give her the help she needs.

Rushing outside, I cup my hands around my mouth and start yelling.

“Edith! Where are you?” I turn in the yard but see nothing aside from a few weeds swaying in the breeze.

Running toward the front, I shout again, but she’s totally gone. Thinking quickly of where she could have gone on foot, I hop in my truck, slamming the door shut on Clayborn as he stumbles out the door.

“Don’t you fuckin’ come back here! You’re a motherfu—”

Nothing he can say will matter to me. I back up to turn around, then peel out of the drive, most certainly kicking stones at the bastard as I head straight over to Mason’s ranch.

She’s gotta be here, right? Where else could she have gone?

I explode from my seat as soon as I shove the gear into park and leave my truck idling as I take the porch steps two at a time.

Pounding my fist on the door, I keep at it until the door opens and I realize I must be a fucking mess when the tiny woman stares at me with huge eyes. She starts to close it almost immediately, but I stop her.

“Wait! Please. Is Edith over here?”

She looks behind her and who I assume to be her husband comes into view. “Edith isn’t here. What’s goin’ on?”

Hanging my head, I brace myself on the frame of their door. “Shit happened over at her place, and she took off. She’s hurt and I don’t know where she went.” Pleading with them, I ask, “Ya’ll have any idea where she could have gone?”

“No, honey. We don’t know her well enough to have any idea. But we’ll let our son know to go lookin’. What happened to her?” Mrs. Cooper has now opened the door all the way and worry over my state long forgotten. It’s clear these people have some care for Edith, but I don’t want to send Mason out for her. I need to find her.

Driving my point home with an unwavering stare, I bite out, “Her daddy happened to her. Ya’ll know about him and his fists?”

Both of them jerk their heads back in shock. Mrs. Cooper presses a hand to her chest. Turning to her husband, she shoos him. “Bill, go call Mason right now!” Then to me, she asks, “You call the police?”

Sucking in a breath, I shake my head slowly. “No. Fuck. I wasn’t even thinkin’. I beat the shit out of him, then went lookin’ for her.”

“Check the roads into town. Maybe she’s on foot. I’ll have Bill call Mason while I get some police over to the house.” I immediately turn away, but she stops me with a hand to my forearm. “Would you stop by and let us know if you find her? She’s a sweet girl and I hate to think she’s alone and hurting.”

“She’s pregnant,” I blurt, wincing that I’ve shared private information with these strangers, but I need them to know how dire this situation is. “She’s pregnant, and he beat her to hell. She was bleedin’ before she ran.”

“What’s your name?”

Holding out my hand, I quickly shake both of theirs. “Griffin Graham. I know your son, but we didn’t run in the same circles, so he’s likely to not be a big fan of me, if I’m being honest. I’m gonna try to find her. Thank you for calling the cops. Clay’s pretty beat up, so would you let them know I’ll call as soon as I can with my information, since I’m the one who did it?”

“Go.”

I’m urged off the porch. Giving them a quick thanks, I don’t waste any more time. I keep my speed slow as I drive just in case she’s keeping to the trees, but there’s no sign of her as I make it to town.

While doing my best to keep my eye on the road, I dial my brother’s phone and place him on speaker.

“Yeah?”

“Did you know that Clay’s been abusin’ his daughter?”

I won’t dance around this topic with any sort of trepidation. My brother is a great guy, although dumb as a doorknob at times, but if he knew…

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

Nodding once, I explain as my eyes fly over every shop window and side street with no sign of Edith. “Remember when you mentioned that Clay was lookin’ for Edith? Well, I went over there just now to find out if she made it home.”

“Why—”

Cutting him off, I don’t answer what I know he’s about to ask. “Not important right now. So, I show up there and he’s pushin’ her over in their backyard, screamin’ his head off.” I debate sharing that she’s pregnant, but I decide against it. I’ve already told two people, and it’s really not my place. I don’t even know for sure where she and I stand. “I backed him off and went ‘round to pull up the truck. When I went inside to grab her so she didn’t have to stay with him, I could hear him hollerin’ in her room and found him layin’ into her with everythin’ he had.”

Corbin doesn’t say a word, only blows out a whoosh of air at the news I just spilled at his feet.

“So, I’m gonna need to know now since you spent way more time over there than I ever have. Did you know he’s been abusin’ her?”

“No!Christ, Fin. I had no idea. Thought she just liked to keep to herself. That’s what he always said. She alright? What’d you do to Clay? I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him for layin’ hands on a woman like that.”

The amount of relief I feel removes some of the tension from my shoulders. Sagging in my seat, I gentle my words. “I don’t know where she’s at. I’m out lookin’ for her, and the neighbors are callin’ the cops on Clay. I’m tellin’ you right now, we’re done with him. You hear me?”

“Shit. I got it. I know he’s always had a temper, but I didn’t think… Well, there’s nothin’ to say about what I thought. Need any help lookin’ for her?”

A flash of dark hair draws my attention, so I slam on my brakes, only to be disappointed. It’s not her. “I want to say yes, but I have no idea where she’d go. I don’t know who her people are.” I was her person for a brief moment, but I fucked that up.

“Brother… when we talked the other day about the girl…”

His voice trails off and I close my eyes, knowing what he’s asking.

“Yeah,” I croak out. “She’s the girl I was talkin’ about.”

His noisy exhale crackles through the phone. “Damn. You really got yourself mixed up in some shit, huh? Lemme know if you find her. I’m sure the wife and I can help if she needs anythin’ too. We’ve got room here at the house.”

I want to rage out my denial that anyone is going to take care of her other than me, but I bite my tongue. “I’ll let her know when I find her. Call ya later.”

Hanging up the phone, I spend the entire afternoon driving down every road I can think of, only stopping long enough to fill my tank up with gas when I run low. My call to the cops didn’t take long, and I’ve now got them keeping an eye out for her.

I heard they took Clayborn in to treat his well-deserved wounds, but without Edith and her statement, there’s not a whole lot they can do at the moment. Luckily, he was so intoxicated when they showed up that he’ll spend the night in the drunk tank until he sobers up. They’re at least asking him questions.

Once evening falls, I feel absolutely defeated. Going home sounds like an awful idea, and as much as it seems to be a terrible idea to hit the bar, I go anyway.

Tonight deserves whiskey. Tomorrow, I’ll continue my search for Edith Hughes.