Chapter 13 – Rhett #3
“That good, Owen, huh?” Lark asks, rolling his eyes at me as soon as he catches my gaze.
“She was tight, as FUCK,” Owen continues while one of his friends slaps him on the back. “After I was done, I left and went to Della’s house and fucked her too. I call it a two for one.”
Owen’s always had a way of talking about the women he hooks up with that’s just… crass. It’s why I breathed a damn sigh of relief when Jael told me she’d broken up with him a few weeks before graduation.
She’s always deserved better than him—hell, better than anyone who’d treat her like some conquest. But it’s never been just about him. It’s been about something I didn’t quite understand until recently.
As I’ve thought about it more, I’ve realized why I’ve always been so protective of her and the guys that she’s been interested in.
The truth is, in some messed up way, Jael has always felt like mine.
Like she’s always been this thing I’ve been quietly claiming in the small moments that we’ve spent together, even if I didn’t have the guts to say it out loud.
“Who’s the newest conquest this time, Owen?” one of the other guys on our team asks as he tosses his towel into the nearby hamper.
Owen grins wickedly. “I finally got Jael to put out. Took her prized virginity, though I dumped her ass right after. What’s the point in keeping her around if she’s leaving in a few months anyhow?”
What? That can’t be right. That’s not possible.
My brain freezes and all I see is red. Though I vaguely realize that he’s still talking, I hear none of it. I step toward him, my feet heavy and hear Lark in the background telling me to take a deep breath.
“You did what to Jael?” I snarl, lunging across the bench and pinning him against the nearest locker with one of my strong forearms.
“Get your hands off me, man,” he says, pushing my arms away as he glares back at me. “Why the hell do you care what I do with that little trailer park rat?”
I don’t get the chance to process Owen’s words before my body reacts. My fist connects with his nose, the sickening crack echoing through the locker room as he staggers backward, slamming into the lockers like a rag doll.
For a second, everything goes silent but then Owen finds his footing, but it’s too late. He lunges at me, swinging wildly, but Lark steps in like a fucking wall, grabbing his arms and pinning them behind him effortlessly.
"Go!" Lark shouts, his voice sharp and commanding. I don't hesitate.
I push past them, my hands shaking from the rush of adrenaline, anger still boiling inside me.
My thoughts are scattered, trying to make sense of what just went down and what Jael did to me behind my back.
◆◆◆
“Anyhow,” Lark’s voice pulls me back to the present. “I’m going to head out and go check out this mess at the courthouse. I’ll see you later, buddy.”
“Yeah, sure,” I mumble but I’m still lost in my head. Lost in the memories.
Lark shuts the door behind him, the hum of the air conditioner in my office cranking up, filling the small office with cool air.
But nothing can chill the fire that’s raging inside me.
It feels like I’m eighteen again, back in the locker room, listening to Owen run his mouth about Jael like she’s nothing more than some casual fling.
In his words she was just a bucket for my cum. A two for one.
I try to breathe, reach for something calm—Spotify meditation music, whatever I can grasp to steady myself and stop me from being dumb.
But the anger that’s surging through my veins feels all too familiar.
It’s a cold, venomous rage, and I know that the only way through it is to face the asshole who strung Jael along for years and cheated on her relentlessly.
Kicking my chair back, I stand and head for the door, my boots hitting the floor like a drumbeat in my chest.
Don’t do it. The warning echoes in my head, but it’s already too damn late. With Jael, I’ll never be able to stop this core need to protect her, no matter how much she pushes me away or doesn’t want me to do it.
The drive to the construction site where Owen works feels too short. Sure enough, there he is, perched on the back of his work truck, a beer in hand, his helmet still strapped tight to his head like he’s some kind of damn superhero with a nose that I broke when we were kids.
“Hey Owen!” I yell loudly as I hop out of my truck. Owen is a big guy, even bigger now than he was back in high school, but I know I still have inches, muscle and fury on him.
“Oh, hey Rhett,” he says with a completely unsuspecting wave.
“You’re a jackass,” I snarl as I walk up to him faster now.
“Rhett, what’s up, man. Hey - what the hell is your problem?” he asks as he hops off the back of the truck bed.
“Jael is my problem,” I spit out. "Keep her name and whatever you do with her out of your vulgar mouth."
A wicked smile of realization crosses his lips as he grins back at me.
“I always knew you had a thing for your little trailer trash buddy. You were always mad that I'd fucked her first before she could spread her pretty legs for you, huh? Well based on our date last week, she’s clearly still hung up on me and always will be.”
That’s it. I lose it. This wasn’t the plan when I came here, but before I can think it through, my fist is slamming into Owen’s face, releasing over ten years of fury in a single blow.
The hit catches him off guard, and he stumbles back, his hands clutching his nose as blood pours out in a rush, like a damn geyser. It’s satisfying in a way that I can’t describe and poetic that it reminds me of the last I did this.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he roars, wiping the blood from his face as he takes a swing at me.
But I’m ready. I dodge the first punch with ease, but the second one, a left hook, catches me hard on the cheek, and the sickening crack of bone sends a jolt of pain through my skull.
The world tilts for a moment, but I don’t back down, lunging at him until I take him down.
We’re on the gravel, fists flying, anger tearing through us like a storm until the worksite manager Smythe and Cash Marshall who must have seen the whole thing go down from the coffee shop next door, rushes in, pulling us apart with force.
“Rhett, if you don’t get off my work site right now, I’ll call the Sheriff,” Smythe warns with a loud, smokers cough, his finger jabbing in my direction as I spit blood onto the ground.
“Call him. Maybe Molly Marshall will show up. She never liked the way you treated Jael either,” I spit out.
Cash places a firm hand on my shoulder. “Come on, Rhett. Let’s go cool off.” His eyes are urging me and if it wasn’t for him being technically family, I’d probably tell him to fuck all the way off too.
Smythe shakes his head exhausted. “Owen, go home and don’t come back today. Fix the attitude and your face. Rhett, just get the hell out of here. Please. Now.”
Owen’s eyes narrow at me as he grabs his hard hat from the gravel and heads toward his truck. He yanks open the door but before he’s inside, he shouts out over the pavement.
“Don’t think this is over, Rhett. If I want Jael, I can have Jael at any time!”
And that has me lunging out of Cash’s grip before his truck peels away in a spray of stones and gravel.