Fallen (Love in Norfolk #2)

Prologue

The Past

He was naked and not just from the waist up; everywhere . Nixon McKenna; the boy, or should I say the man who lived next door. Although next door was probably not an accurate description of our living arrangements. Our houses were separated by a vast amount of land.

I had been relaxing in the calmer section of the river which separated our two farms when he had ridden up on a huge terrifying-looking stallion. After hearing the horse's hooves thudding against the embankment, I’d hidden myself away. Scared of being caught, especially by him. My little sister Amy said that the McKenna boys were bad news and had to be related to the devil, and at that moment I would have agreed with her. Nixon McKenna had that bad-boy, mess-with-me-not, vibe in spades.

I had never seen him this close before, only ever in the village or driving past in his truck. From my concealed position, half-submerged, behind some trailing shrubs. I had watched him. Totally in aw e, the feelings I was experiencing were all a jumble. A pulse beat wildly in my throat and I hadn’t been able to pull my gaze away from all that maleness. His was the first male naked body I had ever seen, and it was overwhelming.

Nixon had worn a determined expression as he’d dismounted and started to remove his clothing. First, he’d pulled the T-shirt which had clung with sweat to his chest over his head, revealing a mouth-watering rock-hard torso, full-on six-pack, and taunt pectorals. His strong chest held a smattering of dark hair. A thin line of it ran from his belly button into the vee which laddered under the waistband of his jeans and I wanted to follow the path with my finger, trace where it led .

After Nixon had shed his top and flexed his arms, his boots and socks followed and finally his jeans. He’d yanked them down over his solid thighs, my mouth falling open as he’d lazily kicked them off his ankles. He wore no underwear.

Shocked , I’d drawn back and closed my eyes, squeezing them shut, but the vision of that area remained locked in my thoughts. He was huge down there.

After I had caught my breath, I looked back again. Desperate for another peek.

Nixon McKenna was now standing yards away from me, as naked as the day he was born.

He was waist-deep in the water, the section between his legs well and truly hidden now and I tried to ignore that twinge of disappointment. Although he’d taken me by surprise, I had enjoyed looking at him, seeing his beautiful body so different to my own. All angular, strong, and so masculine now. What age would he be, twenty-something?

My eyes greedily scanned over his torso. He was tall and powerfully built, and his arms were covered with tattoos. They gave him that dangerous edge he exuded. I was so small in comparison, that I doubted I would even reach his shoulder in height.

As I said, I’d only seen Nixon from a distance over the last couple of years, but it didn’t matter, you could sense the threat no matter where you were. I’d heard that most of the boys in the village were terrified of him during his teens, he’d been a bit of a hell-raiser. He wasn’t an easy person to deal with and had a stinker of a temper, so Amy had told me. She spent most of her time spying on the McKenna brothers and trying to cause trouble. That was part of her nature, stirring the pot. She just loved to wind people up. Whereas I hated any type of conflict. It didn’t help with my anxiety levels.

Talking about conflict, my family and the McKenna family were not the closest of friends. The bad blood was mainly due to an old quarrel about ownership of a section of land that sat between our two farms. The portion of land that I had decided to visit that night .

I moved my body in the water to get a better look. Nixon’s hair was dark brown, almost black and cut quite short to his head. His face was sinfully gorgeous. Square jaw, dark eyes, a slightly hooked nose, and that strong, stubborn chin. He was the type of boy who would never take no for an answer. Confident and tough.

Nixon was fascinating to look at, but then again, so were the Bengal tigers I’d seen at the zoo the weekend before. I needed to remind myself of the possibility of danger. I imagined he wouldn’t take it well, that an almost sixteen-year-old girl was spying on him whilst he was naked.

I was hiding by the edge of the embankment and I had to be careful where I stood as the water was deep in places and I couldn’t swim. I loved it there though, it was calming.

This was my go-to place when I needed time for myself. I also wasn’t supposed to be there and enjoyed that feeling of guilt. I was the proverbial goody-two-shoes. The daughter that could do no wrong, but there had to be a bit of bad-girl blood in me somewhere. Surely, I couldn’t always be as perfect as everyone believed me to be.

As I eyed Nixon’s movements, I wondered what being touched by him would feel like. Maybe even to feel his mouth on mine. I had never been kissed and wouldn’t have minded if he was my first. I imagined he’d know exactly how to kiss a girl, Amy said he’d been with lots of women. That news should have put me off, but it didn’t. A first kiss had to be perfect, so it would be better coming from someone who knew what they were doing.

I smiled as I watched Nixon scoop some water in his hands and splash his face. He then dipped his entire body beneath the surface, his head disappearing for a beat or two.

When he came up again, he held his big body taunt, before glancing moodily around the area. I watched his chest expand as he drew in a large breath and shoved his wet hair back from his forehead. Had he sensed there was someone watching him? I knew the sensation well, as people were always staring at me. It made me feel like a freak. Amy said it was because my beauty was unrivalled.

Nixon’s skin glistened . Rivulets of water ran down his chest and around his dark, male nipples, drawing my attention there. The way he moved in the water was very erotic, especially how his muscles flexed. Did they teach him that in bad-boy school?

“Are you enjoying the show?” His voice was a low, rich rumble and it forced me to snatch my breath.

I bit my lip to stop myself from automatically replying. I had good manners and would never usually ignore anyone, but these were not usual circumstances.

The sound of parting water mixed into that silence that stretched between us. Nixon was now turned in my direction, his face half-highlighted by the pale glow of the moon. He looked supernatural almost, like one of those vampires from the Twilight Saga, (without the glittering diamond-like skin of course).

I spied my shoes and towel on the opposite side of the bank. Drat, Nixon may have seen my stuff. Maybe that’s why he knew he wasn’t alone.

Unease darted through me. So far, I had only seen him from a safe distance, but now he was closer, I could see him for the predator some believed him to be. This man was dangerous . The way he now held himself suggested he’d be a very physical person. One of those that didn’t apologise for getting in your personal space. It frightened and excited me at the same time.

“ Well , Little Mermaid?” Nixon questioned with a tilt of his dark head; his eyes narrowed as they scanned the embankment close to me. His tone had lost a portion of annoyance that had underlined his first words and I felt myself relax slightly.

He’d called me a mermaid. If he was making jokes, he couldn’t be that cross that I was there.

I supposed it was his right to be mad that I was spying on him, but not because I was at the pool. As I said, the McKenna family believed the meadow and pool belonged to them, when my family were there first! How wrong they were. I should be the one scaring him away, not the other way around. I shouldn’t have been spying on him though, I knew that was wrong but I couldn’t help it.

I smiled to myself at my earlier thought of scaring him away; I was about as terrifying as a kitten. I was five one, with a petite build, pale almost translucent skin, long wavy blonde hair, and blue eyes. I was also as shy as they come and not very vocal. Scared of my own shadow almost. Everything about me was the opposite of this person.

Nixon started to stroke his tanned muscular chest in a circular motion with his fingers, suddenly looking thoughtful. He had large hands, and of course, he would have. Everything about him was big and yes, I meant everything .

My nerves ticked and I moistened my lips, remaining silent from my hiding place. I inhaled sharply as Nixon started slowly wading through the water toward my position, that determined expression he’d worn when he’d first arrived was back.

My heart thumped against my breastbone as fight or flight kicked in and I struggled with what to do. If I ran, would he chase me down? Worry raced through me at the thought of being threatened in some way. He wouldn’t physically hurt me, would he?

I shuffled further back against the side of the river and he stopped suddenly. Nervous knots continued to twist my insides. Could he see me from there?

“Why don’t you come out? I don’t bite, well, not always ,” Nixon informed me in a soft, even voice. It sank into my skin like cream, so smooth and thorough; almost coating my insides. I swallowed; one trait of my personality was to always aim to please. The submissive in me automatically responded to his commanding tone.

Pushing through the shrubs surrounding me, I lowered my body more fully into the water. I could touch the bottom there and I slowly started to walk toward him, the cool liquid lapping around me .

Nixon folded his huge arms over his chest as I moved through the water. I heard his breath catch in his throat as he saw me. I probably looked frightful. My dress was soaking and stuck to my skin, not to mention my wet hair.

He waited patiently, watching me through eyes which were now hooded, giving nothing away. I knew that his gaze had fallen on every visible part of my body, I could feel the heat from his eyes on my skin.

I stopped just before him and crossed my arms over my chest, covering my breasts. Almost mirroring his stance. I was braless and wasn’t sure how transparent the white of the material would be. I wouldn’t usually enter the water in a dress, but it had been so inviting when I’d arrived earlier that evening. It had drawn me in, a quick paddle had not been enough and I’d gotten carried away, as usual. I spent most of my days living in a daydream.

“Come closer,” he said briskly. That tone of voice proved that this was a man who was always obeyed. He was one of the bossy ones, worse than my sister Amy. And she took some beating.

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I stepped up to him, within touching distance. I could feel the heat from his body against my own. He was so tall and well built, his frame packed with muscle; a tower of strength and that weak part of me leaned towards that.

His eyes continued to roam over the section of me which he could see above the water. As I was so much shorter than him, the water level was higher as it licked my body, but it didn’t cover my chest.

“ That was easy. Do you always do as you’re told?”

I nodded my head in agreement. I was an accommodating person, what can I say? “Usually,” I responded in a soft, shy voice. This man made me so nervous.

Nixon’s mouth curled into a smile that oozed sexual undertones and my tummy turned over. He then moved a hand to scratch his jaw, before refolding his arms. The muscles there were over-pronounced by the movement and I felt my nipples tighten .

“You and I are going to get on so well, in that case. Why so stiff, uncross your arms,” he purred with a flick of his head towards that area, his voice and words were provocative and enticing.

I shook my head and glanced down, feeling timid, “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I managed to squeak.

Nixon quirked his head before hooking his chin toward me, “And why not?”

My eyes searched around the space, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and way out of my depth, figuratively speaking of course.

I shrugged, “My dress, it might be see-through.”

Nixon arched an eyebrow and even that was sexy, “So?”

I grimaced. Part of me knew he was toying with me, but I played his game. I was all about the easy way out.

I pursed my lips, fighting with my answer before replying, “You might be able to see beneath my dress.” I moved my focus to the water as it ran peacefully around us. This opening in the river was much calmer, but the current was still there.

I heard Nixon drop his hands and move closer, swallowing that small amount of space between us, before he cupped my chin with his fingers, drawing my gaze back to his. Nixon’s eyes were so dark they were almost black and he was so handsome. This close I could see each perfectly crafted contour on his face. Dark brows, deep-set mysterious eyes that gave nothing away, a strong nose and those cruel-looking lips that sat above a manly, squared unshaven jaw. Like a male model, but a rugged one that never used grooming products or anything silly like that. Didn’t need to. He made the boys at school look so pitiful. He was a man who had all the answers.

Nixon dropped his hand, “ So , I’ll see part of your body,” he repeated slowly, “ You’ve seen all of mine. Surely, it’s only fair to return the favour, tit for tat. No pun intended of course,” he whispered down into my face. His words were so grown up, sophisticated. But then he was a man, and I was a teenager .

His breath was fresh with a hint of whisky or some other type of classy spirit. I knew the smell well as my father drank the stuff. It suited him; he was such an adult and I suddenly felt like a silly little girl in his presence. Unsure how to handle the situation or what to say.

I made my decision. As I lowered my arms to my sides, I glanced briefly down at my chest and yes, you could see my pink nipples pushing against the cotton, perfectly highlighted. Beaded against the cool night air.

Shaken, I yanked my head back up. Nixon’s eyes were still locked on mine, but for seconds only, before he allowed his gaze to trail down toward my breasts. He drew in a breath, his eyes revealing his pleasure and his nostrils flared. I could see he liked what he saw and this gave me a surge of confidence, something I rarely experienced.

Nixon then lowered his body into the water, so our heads were closer. He leaned more into me and ran one finger gently down one of my flushed cheeks.

“I’ve always thought you were pretty, but this close, I see you have the face of an angel. You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his gaze now roaming over my features.

“So are you.” My response was immediate and his lip curled. I had amused him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called beautiful before, but coming from your lips, I’ll take it.”

I wanted to draw his hand back toward my cheek. I liked him touching me there.

“How old are you, gorgeous?” he questioned, with a snag in his voice.

“Sixteen.” It wasn’t a total lie. I would be in four days.

My reply caused him to dash a hand through his hair before he rolled his massive shoulders, the muscles there flexing with tension. His eyes searched my face like he was looking for something.

“Sweet sixteen. I can wait,” he said partly to himself .

Confusion lanced into me. What did that mean?

As my curious eyes attempted to find their way around that mask he had moved in place, he took a step back.

Nixon flicked his head behind his shoulder, “Go home. You should be in bed,” he instructed; his voice like a whip. That special moment between us was suddenly snatched away and I felt a sinking sensation.

“Why? Why can’t I stay here with you?” Those words left my mouth without thought, I didn’t even know what they meant. What was I asking him? It was like he had enchanted me. We’d just met properly for the first time, but his abrupt dismissal made me sad. Like I had lost something I had never had.

“Because if you stay here any longer, I won’t be able to stop myself from taking what you so obviously want to give me.” His voice was now dark with a steely element.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said in a small, soft voice. My throat was scratchy.

“ Yes , you do. You’re not that naive,” he began before adding, “or maybe you are?”

And I was, having spent years being sheltered from life by my parents, especially by my father. My brother Mattie and my two little sisters were also responsible for trying to hide me away. Push cotton wool to one side, I was protected by full-on bubble wrap!

At times, I felt like a piece of fine crystal that could shatter at any point and surely that wasn’t the case. But I had no way of knowing, having never been in an overly strenuous situation. Anything even slightly hard to handle in my life was dealt with by someone else. It had been that way since birth. I wasn’t street-wise, I didn’t even know what that meant.

Nixon was still staring at me, waiting for me to carry out his instructions and leave .

Taking a deep breath, I raised myself up out of the water, pushing my upper body against his hard chest, and I slid my arms up around his neck. I then pulled his head down and placed my mouth over his. His entire body stiffened as our lips met, but after a beat or two, his hands slid under my backside and he tugged me against him.

Nixon McKenna groaned into my mouth and then he took control.

He licked along the seal of my lips and they parted, his tongue sliding inside, taking everything, I had to offer. Filling me. I opened for him like a wilting flower to the rain as my pulse jump-started. My inexperienced body shuddered and I moaned against him, his rock-hard chest pressing against my small breasts and heat jetted between my legs. My nipples were pebbled so hard that they were painful.

It was my first kiss, and I would never forget it.

As I pushed up further against him, the kiss became more demanding as he plundered my mouth. That contact between our two bodies filled an emptiness inside me.

I angled my head which gave him deeper access to my mouth, his tongue driving in and out, tasting, and feeding from me.

Nixon’s hands were kneading the soft cheeks of my bottom and he pulled me even closer so I could feel his hardness through my dress, just above the junction between my legs. The realisation of what was pressed against me caused me to gasp into his mouth. Sexual excitement lit me up like a firework exploding through my entire body.

The kiss went on and it was glorious , but it didn’t last long enough for me. Nixon suddenly drew back, looking down at me, his eyes carrying a hint of sadness or maybe regret and I wanted to tug his head back down.

He slid his hands up my spine and gently unwound my arms from around his neck, setting me away from him .

My eyes were wide as they searched his face, silently questioning him. Did he not find me attractive? He had to. I was inexperienced but I could see desire written all over that expression, although he tried to hide it.

I pressed a hand to my swollen lips; my whole body felt hot.

“Don’t you like me?” I asked, my voice a whisper. We were both breathing heavily.

Nixon stepped back and came to his full height in the water, putting more distance between our bodies. My eyes flickered down to his perfectly toned chest and I wanted to trace each curve of muscle with my fingertips.

He exhaled which dragged my focus back to his face, “It isn’t about that. Yes , I like you. But I’ve been drinking, and you're very young. You need to go home Jenna, right now.” My name on his lips sounded so right, I didn’t even realise he knew it. He had such a sexy deep voice. It made me feel giddy inside.

“We could just talk, get to know each other?” I suggested innocently.

His lip curled, “Yeah, that’s so not a good idea.”

“Why?” I shot out, my eyes wide.

“Well, for a start, I’m naked and you might well as be. We wouldn’t be talking for long.” Nixon dashed a frustrated hand down his face before he recovered himself and said in a firmer voice, “You should be thankful I have so much restraint. Go home , Jenna. And this time, I’m not asking, I’m telling you. You do as you’re told remember?” Nixon reminded me in a deep, firm voice. It caused a jitter to run along my skin.

I turned away and went to move past him, suddenly feeling hurt but he caught me by my upper arm. His fingers were tight around my non-existent bicep and a fizz shot through my skin.

He drew me slowly back toward his body and lowered his head, his mouth close to the cuff of my ear, “The timing is off Little Mermaid. Maybe one day, we’ll see. You need to be patient. Can you do that? ”

He lightly kissed the tip of my ear before releasing me. Our eyes then tangled. Nixon McKenna was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

“Yes, I can be patient. Goodnight then,” I whispered with a slight smile, adoration must have been radiating from every contour of my face.

Nixon skimmed his fingers down one of my arms, the caress brief but electric, “ Goodbye , Little Mermaid.”

The water splashed as I made my way over to the opposite side of the embankment to where Nixon had slid into the water. And what a sight that had been. It hadn’t frightened me, seeing a naked man for the first time. It intrigued and excited me.

My steps were affected by the weight of the skirt of my dress. It was now wrapped around my legs. I could hear Nixon splashing behind me in the water but I didn’t turn around.

As I dragged my body out of the pool and retrieved my towel, I wrapped it around my shivering skin. It was much colder now I was out of the water.

When I turned back to face him, Nixon had already made his way to the other side of the river and had his jeans on. He wore those jeans like he had been born in them. He was still bare-chested and I watched thoroughly smitten as he collected his clothes and pushed them into a bag which hung from his horse’s saddle. The beast had been so quiet, I had forgotten it was there. It whinnied as he approached, obviously aware of his master’s return.

I tucked the towel further around me and continued to watch the way he moved, those muscles bunching and flexing. The tattoos on his arms were fascinating to me. I wanted to ask him what they meant.

Nixon then turned to look at me, his eyes clashing with mine across a river that suddenly felt wider than ever. Just like that gap between us and not just the one concerning age, the one forced upon us by our families. It suddenly felt so unfair. It was then that I realised that whilst I had said goodnight, Nixon had said goodbye .

I dashed that upsetting fact away as his gaze remained tangled with mine and we shared another special moment. It only lasted a few seconds before he twisted away and mounted his horse and I turned, feeling dreamy. On cloud nine. Touching my lips where his mouth had been only moments ago. Was this what love, at first sight, was like?

Pushing my feet into my sliders, I set off across the fields towards the dim light that was still on at my house in the distance. I’d snook out whilst my parents were asleep and I sure hoped no one else was up.

I thought back to that mind-blowing kiss and those feelings I had experienced as our mouths moved together. My almost sixteen-year-old mind and body were racing .

Nixon McKenna was the man of my dreams. And one day, he would be my husband.

*****

When I got home, my sister Amy was standing on our porch with her arms folded. So much for sneaking back undetected. The rest of the house was in darkness, apart from the porch light. It highlighted her entire face.

From that expression, I was in the bad books. You wouldn’t think her around four years younger than me, she was the definite boss between us.

“ Where have you been? Or do I even need to ask, considering you’re wet and wrapped in a towel Jenna?” she shot out, her eyebrows inched towards her hairline.

Dragging said towel further around my body, I climbed the wooden steps of our porch to join her. She was already taller than me. I wondered why she was still fully dressed. She had one of her cameras around her neck. Amy was mad about photography and was constantly badgering me to model for her .

“I couldn’t sleep,” I responded. She must have gone to my room and seen it was empty.

“I was worried. I was about to send out a search party,” she scolded, unfolding her arms, and rubbing the tops of mine with her hands to warm me up. I was now quite cold.

“I was fine , honestly.”

“You don’t swim Jen, and there are sections of the pool that are deep. You’re not to go there alone again,” my twelve-year-old little sister instructed me. She sounded so grown up now.

She had a point of course and it was dark out there. Before I could reply she carried on chewing me out.

“And what if you were to run into one of the McKenna lads?” She said, pushing a damp strand of my hair behind my ear. She was so protective but then, they all were. At times, I felt like one of those antique toys that you could look at but not touch.

“So,” I puffed back. I decided against telling her about my first proper introduction to Nixon McKenna. Amy would not be impressed.

“What do you mean so? If one of those hormonally charged idiots had seen you alone, they could have tried it on with you.”

“Nonsense, it wouldn’t have come to that.”

“Have you seen you?” Amy shot out, motioning up and down my body with her hand. My sister had always seen me as some type of boy magnet, irresistible to men .

“I’m sure it would have been fine. They’d probably just have told me to leave,” I said with a shaky voice.

“You don’t know the McKenna boys Jenna. They take what they want, without permission. I heard from Betty that Mason McKenna is a proper man-whore,” Amy informed me in a matter-of-fact tone. Amy and Mason had been at each other's throats for years .

“Amy, you shouldn’t use that word,” I said, attempting to scold her.

“Well, he is and I can’t stand him. To think of any of those boys anywhere near you makes me feel sick.” Oops.

“They’re not a bunch of rapists Amy,” I replied, feeling the need to defend them. Amy could be so over the top at times.

“They’re players Jenna, overconfident boys with raging hormones. They don’t need to use force. They cast spells on girls.”

On that, I could agree, as I certainly felt like Nixon had bewitched me.

What if that connection I’d felt hadn’t been special? What if there was some type of voodoo stuff going on there? Maybe he had that effect on all females? The thought of him with other girls made me feel miserable. At the end of the day, that pull toward him was strong, but it’s not like I had anything to compare it with.

I opened my mouth but Amy cut me off, “What the heck?” she shot out, peering over my shoulder. “What the hell is that ?”

I turned to see where she was looking, my gaze roaming over the fields and trees which separated our farm from the McKenna’s place.

There was a glow of light from behind their orchard where the tip of their house was visible.

It was a fire.

Panic was released like a bomb in my stomach and I felt pulled in several directions.

Amy was instantly on it, pulling her phone out of her jeans and dialling the emergency services.

“Get into the house Jenna, wake Dad. I’ll go and get Daniel and the lads,” she shot out before speaking to the first responder on her phone. She was so capable and independent for such a young girl.

I ran up to my room, shed the towel and grabbed my robe off the back of my door, before heading up into my parent's attic room. My heart was literally in my chest the entire time. I had never been so afraid and shaken up. I so hoped everyone was OK.

The next hour was chaos . My brother and my parents with some of our farm staff had made their way over to the McKenna’s property to see if they could help. Amy had disappeared and wasn’t anywhere to be found and I felt totally useless and alone, my other sister Chrissy was away on a summer school trip.

After pacing the porch and staring into the distance at the tragedy, I decided to go and find my parents.

I made my way over to Mr and Mrs McKenna’s house. It was still dark but there was that orange glow in the air. I could see the firefighters in the distance had managed to put most of the fire out.

Other neighbours from properties in the area were there, including the Proctor twins, two odd boys from our village. One of them was filming the scene on his mobile phone which I thought was in poor taste.

The horrendous sight of charred wood from the inside of the house was showing and part of the main stable was gone. I sure hoped all their horses were OK. The McKenna family-owned assorted livestock.

I saw my father and three of his staff standing in the yard in front of the house but couldn’t see my mother. There was quite a crowd of people there but there wasn’t much they could do; it was a case of waiting for the professionals to finish putting the rest of the fire out.

I could see two of the McKenna boys looking up at the house before I saw my mother with Mrs McKenna, Melanie I believe her name was. A paramedic was with them. There were two fire engines and one ambulance there.

“What are you doing here sweetie?” My father said as he saw me standing to the side of him. “You should be back at the house with Amy.” I didn’t tell him that Amy wasn’t there either. Goodness knows where she’d gone.

“I wanted to make sure no one was hurt,” I replied. Trying to be firm. Daniel, my dad’s right-hand man came to my side and said he’d walk me back. We slowly started to move away, but something caught my eye and I stopped and turned.

Mitchell McKenna, Nixon’s father suddenly appeared from the back of the half-destroyed building, leading a large horse over to their paddock. They must have had to evacuate their livestock from the barns and stables. The stable fire was out, but there was significant damage.

The scent in the air was acrid and there were still some smaller embers, crackling at the back of the building. The scene spelt destruction and despair and there was a sombre feeling from the crowd of people looking on. I thought them all to be nosey parkers. They weren’t even helping, just watching the show. The firefighters were doing a good job. My dad and Mattie were dirty, which suggested they had done something.

Mitchell moved away from the paddock and my spirits lifted as I spotted Nixon striding from the stable to join him. My heart went out to him and his family and I wanted to hold him. Take away his pain. His face was covered in soot and part of his clothing was ripped. There was a vee of sweat plastering his top to his torso. At least he didn’t look injured thank goodness. He was wearing the clothes he’d had on at the river.

Mitchell looked up, his eyes darting toward us before he turned away and said something in his son’s ear. His expression was somewhere between shock, anger, and despair. He looked like a broken man.

It was then that all hell broke loose, nothing could have prepared me for that moment.

Nixon McKenna swung toward us, his hard eyes zeroing in on my father, like laser beams. His entire body seemed to swell, as he scanned our group before yanking away from Mitchell. It looked like his dad tried to catch his arm but he missed as Nixon started towards us with determined, angry strides.

The brother I recognised as Mason who had been watching the house turned to witness Nixon passing, and a frown appeared on his face. As he took in that menacing body language, realisation pooled into his features and he shifted, striding toward us behind his brother. Nixon was a tower of aggression and was gradually getting closer. Danger and angst loomed and a dart of fear snaked up my spine.

“Shit, here we go,” My dad flexed his shoulders, preparing himself for the unexpected.

“We should go, Adrian,” Daniel, said quickly under his breath from beside me.

“Come to see your handy work?” Nixon spat at my father before drawing back his fist and punching my dad in the face. The yell left my lips on autopilot as my father stumbled backwards.

“Daddy!” I screamed, making to move toward him, but my brother Mattie suddenly appeared by my side and grabbed my arm.

“Stay out of the way Jenna, you’ll just get hurt.”

“Calm down lad,” Daniel said positioning himself in front of the bristling younger man. Daniel was also tall and strong. I could see my father, bent over slightly, attempting to recover.

Panic lanced through me and I took another step backwards, totally shocked. You could taste the rage.

The cluster of men all squared up against each other. Nixon and Mason, my dad and Daniel. Our two younger farm hands, Henry and Luke were just pale and nervous, their hands by their sides. Fighting obviously wasn’t part of their contract.

My father, recoiled his body as he recovered and shoved Nixon hard in the chest but the younger man hardly moved. His mouth just curled into more of a sneer as if he found my father’s attempt pathetic. “Careful grandma,” he spat. His face was contorted, he was so mad. He looked nothing like the boy I had met at the pool.

And then a full-on fight ensued. Mattie raced forwards and waded in, his own fists lifted and he hit Nixon’s brother Mason in the face. Mason recovered quickly and lunged at Mattie, knocking him to the floor. They both scrabbled around, trying to get on top of each other. It was like the boy fights at school but much more aggressive and nastier . Daniel turned and attempted to drag Mason off Mattie’s torso as he continued to repeatedly punch my brother in the face. He then motioned towards the two other farmhands for help.

My gaze darted up again to see Nixon hitting my father in the stomach but he recovered quickly and walloped him one back, catching him directly in the nose. It was terrifying and those noises of the impact of fists against bodies went through me like a knife.

Some men from the village appeared, rushing in to stop the fight. It took two larger men to subdue Nixon and my dad backed off naturally with his hands held up in surrender. Daniel, with the help of Henry and Luke pretty much dragged Mason off Mattie. My precious brother’s face was black and blue already and I felt like I was going to be sick. I had never seen such violence. Blood was smeared across his chin. Daniel then easily restrained Mason before releasing him and shoving him toward his brother.

Everyone was grunting heavily and I moved forward, my eyes watching Nixon as he aggressively strained against the two men holding him back. A shiver danced through my skin and I pulled my robe tighter around my body. I was still damp from my dip.

Mattie had slowly climbed to his feet. Everyone else was free now and there was an us and them stance. Mitchell was nowhere to be seen.

“You’re lucky I understand you’re in pain boy, otherwise I would have knocked you on your arse,” my dad said to Nixon. I’d never heard him use that tone; it was chilling .

“Whatever old man,” Nixon growled back, his tongue shooting out to taste the slight stream of blood which was running from his nose to his top lip. Almost testing to see if it was bleeding and a darker look fell across his features as he realised it was. Sheer loathing. I was surprised my father didn’t die on the spot .

“Once you’ve come to your senses, you’ll be giving me and my family an apology.” I could hear in his voice how upset my father was.

“Once I prove that you were involved in this, I’ll be taking your fucking head off,” Nixon threatened. His voice chilled me to the bone.

OMG, did Nixon think that the fire had something to do with my family?

Nixon appeared to have calmed down and he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender before trying to yank free, “Get the fuck off me, I’m good.” The two men holding him glanced at each other, nodded, and then let him go. Mason shot the two guys an evil look and then moved to stand beside his brother, a united front.

Nixon dashed a hand across his injured nose and then rolled his large shoulders before bellowing, “You’d better start thinking about alibies, all of you. If you work for Adrian Taylor, you’re now officially on our shit list.” Nixon growled out towards those who worked for us. Daniel folded his arms over his chest but Henry and Luke who had just stood there watching the drama, shot each other a worried look.

Aggression was thumping through Nixon’s frame. He was terrifying to watch. I had never seen a man so angry.

My dad was unimpressed and flexed his own shoulders, “We came here to offer our help, but I can see we misjudged things. Come on lads.” My dad’s voice was firm but I could tell he was shaken by the encounter. That noise of Nixon’s fist connecting with his face made me want to jam my hands over my ears.

“You’ll be waiting a long fucking time for any apology Taylor,” Nixon shot out in an angry voice, second naming my dad. It was then that he noticed me standing close to Daniel, who had moved to put his arm around my shoulders.

I heard Mason in the background say, “You hit like a bitch,” to my brother. Taunting him .

But I was more focused on those eyes which had watched me with such interest and longing at the pool. After a beat or two of confusion and shock, they turned ice cold.

He looked at me like he hated me. Pain shot into my stomach and I opened my mouth but no words came out.

“Nice, fucking distraction, whoring your daughter out,” Nixon blasted before he spat on the ground close to my father's feet. A sign of disrespect.

“ What did you say,” my dad snapped, his hands turning into fists, ready to go at it again.

Mason stepped in front of his brother and Mattie grabbed my dad’s arm.

“Just go Adrian,” Mason said, obviously not wanting any more trouble.

Nixon continued to watch me with loathing .

Nice distraction? What did that mean? And whore? Did he mean me ? Did he think my being at the pool had been some type of diversion so my family could set fire to his house?

Despair bled from me like a severed artery. No! And a sob fell from my throat.

“Come on, tempers need time to cool,” Daniel put in, tapping my father on the shoulder to get his attention.

Nixon remained silent, his eyes never leaving my face and Mason did that back-and-forth look between us both, his brow creased.

“Jenna?” my dad said, prompting my attention.

Pulling my gaze away should have been easy, considering how Nixon was looking at me like he wanted to wrap his hands around my throat. But my feet felt like they were rooted.

My father tugged my arm again.

“Yeah, go on, piss off back to Daddy,” Nixon sneered and that made me move. I dashed away the tears and turned into Daniel who led me away, a strong arm around my waist .

As we walked back to our house, I knew that I would never forget that silent message in Nixon’s eyes. It was a look of retribution. He believed my family had done his wrong and payback would be painful.

My heart shattered into a million pieces at the thought that the boy I wanted, now hated me as well as my family.