Chapter 23 #2
Bending at the waist, she picks up the jersey and slips it back over her head, then saunters into our bathroom, the door clicking softly behind her.
I flop down on our bed, entirely spent, listening to the sound of water running.
If she thinks cleaning herself up will prevent pregnancy, she has another thing coming.
Why do I want to go in there and stop her on the off chance that it might?
Goddammit. She was just attacked, and we have no idea where this guy is . . . bringing a baby into this would be fucking stupid, so I don’t understand why I’m even entertaining the idea.
No. I need to be rational, plus I don’t even know if she wants kids. It’s not something we’ve really talked about.
Not yet.
Because I want to give her exactly what she asked for, I booked us a trip to Oklahoma. It’s a little after 8 pm when we land in Tulsa. A few guys from the security detail hang back behind us as I sign the paperwork to our rental car. They’re playing their part well.
Have I told her about them yet? No.
Am I going to? Eh, that’s still up in the air.
Since we don’t know where Jaxon is, I thought it would be best to have her guards on hand in case she and her mom decided to give me the slip.
The woman behind the counter hands me the key. I pocket the ring with the yellow tag and fob, then slide my hand to the small of River’s back and guide her to the ladies’ room.
“Let’s hit the restrooms before we head out,” I encourage, trying to stall for time while security grabs their rental car.
We both handle our business and head to the car, the men following us from a safe distance.
One behind us, one a couple of cars over to the left, and the other on the right.
It’s comforting to know she feels safe with me, but it’s also concerning that she hasn’t noticed them yet.
Especially since these same three guys have been following her since Monday.
It takes us an hour to get to Stroud. We’re in the middle of bum-fucked nowhere, winding down dirt roads. I take washboards a little too hard, earning me a side eye from River.
“Want me to drive?”
“No. I got this,” I tell her.
“Remember when you get to our driveway, to kill the lights. Oh, and don’t slam your door when you get out.” We turn onto another gravel road, taking it for a bit.
River smiles, giddy with excitement as she bounces in her seat. “I can’t wait to see Mom’s face when she sees we’re home for Thanksgiving. See that turn right up there? That’s our drive.”
I kill my lights right before turning onto the gravel road only lit up by the moon light. We wind around trees, and I hit a washed-out section a little too hard, causing River to grunt.
Oops.
We pull up to an old beautiful white two-story farmhouse.
A light illuminates a wraparound porch with two rocking chairs.
The place reminds me of something you might see in a movie.
Country music is turned up loud, playing from inside the house.
River holds her finger to her mouth, creeping up the porch.
She quietly opens the front door with me trailing her heels.
“Surpri—ohmygod!” she yells, covering up her eyes. “What the fuck?”
“What the fuck is right,” Rhett counters as he pulls out of Marcy.
I did not need to see that. Fuck! I need to burn that image from my brain.
It’s like a car wreck. You don’t want to look, but you can’t look anywhere else.
Reaching back, River places a hand on my chest, pushing me backward, but I’ve already received an eye full.
I tug River into my arms, cradling her head to my chest and back us out the door.
“I can’t fucking believe this,” she says. “They hate each other.”
“Now, bug, we don’t hate each other,” her dad calls out as her mom adds, “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”
“You weren’t saying that two seconds ago.”
“I’m surprised you even lasted two seconds, Rhett.”
“If it wasn’t good, Marcy, you wouldn’t keep coming back for more.”
My shoulders shake as I laugh, but River looks like she could puke.
“Okay you two can stop talking now,” River calls back as I take her hand, guiding her to the rockers while her parents put their clothes back on.
Running my fingers through my hair, I rock in the chair beside her and let out a chuckle when she says, “I’m gonna need extra therapy and maybe hypnosis to repress the image of my parents going at it.”
I feel that. Seeing my in-laws fucking in the living room wasn’t on my bucket list.
“You think the dining room table is safe for Thanksgiving or did they fornicate on that too?” I ask.
“We’re definitely avoiding the couch and the dining room,” she says, holding my hand as we rock side by side. “Maybe we should throw a blanket down onto the floor and have a picnic in the living room for Thanksgiving.”
“Fuck, if they’re anything like us, nothing in that house is safe.”
We look at each other and bust up laughing.
“Oh, god. This is so fucked,” she wheezes. “That’ll teach me to surprise my mother.”
Howls echo around us, and Rhett walks out of the house with a rifle, placing a ball cap on his head. Marcy follows, her cheeks heating when her eyes meet mine.
Rhett leans down and gives River a kiss on top of the head. “I’m glad you’re home, bug. I gotta go take care of these coyotes. Make sure they don’t get close to the cows.”
My eyes widen in shock. “Did he . . . did he just say coyotes?”
River laughs. “You’re not in New York anymore, City Boy. Welcome to the farm.”
Rhett studies River, rubbing his hand across his jaw. “Actually, Carter, why don’t you come with me?”
The pack of coyotes sound like they’re getting closer. To be honest, I’m a little nervous about a pack of wild dogs, but I’m not about to look like a pussy in front of her dad, so heaving to my feet, I bend down and kiss River on the lips.
“If I don’t make it back, my sister gets my Porsche. She loves that thing, but everything else is yours,” I joke.
River laughs as I trot down the stairs behind Rhett, following him out to his truck where he grabs a spotlight.
He turns it on and starts toward the back of the house.
We’re about a hundred yards away when an old barn comes into view.
Sliding the doors open, he reaches around and turns on the light, then makes his way to an expensive looking side-by-side and hops into the driver's seat. I jump in beside him, and we take off.
The cold air hits my face as we race toward the pasture, hitting bumps and splashing through mud puddles at full speed.
He doesn’t slow down until we stop at a gate.
Without him asking, I jump out and open the gate for him.
He drives through, and I close and latch it back.
Rhett hasn’t said a word to me this entire time.
He shines the spotlight back and forth, looking for the cows or the coyotes.
We’re deep into the pasture when he stops and turns off the ATV.
“Get the fuck out,” he barks—the air shifting around us.