Chapter 12 #2
“Guess the rumors are true.” His voice is rough, like he hasn’t used it in a few days.
“Dad!”
“What?” he coughs into his fist. “Went out to get…” he hesitates and coughs before continuing. “Well, went out and the whole damn town’s talking about how you’re shacking up with some man from up the mountain.”
Heat flares into my cheeks, but Cal only moves closer and rests his hand lightly on my lower back.
“Are you eating?” I try to change the subject and turn to the empty fridge. “I could go and—”
“You shouldn’t be here, Willow.”
“What?” My stomach tightens as I turn to face him.
There’s genuine worry in my dad’s face, despite the fact that I’m sure he’s probably already a few beers in.
“They’ve been coming around.”
Next to me, I feel Cal stiffen. “How often?” he doesn’t bother asking who.
There’s a moment of hesitation before Dad answers him. “Enough.”
“Dad—”
“I told them I ain’t seen your brother.” He rubs a hand over his face. “Didn’t matter. They said they’d—
The sound of a truck door slamming outside stops whatever else he was going to say. The knot in my chest twists tighter. Beside me, Cal mutters something under his breath.
“Shit,” Dad mutters. “That’d be them again.”
A flash of anger for my brother and the situations he continues to put us in flickers over me, but there’s no time for that now. Not with the heavy footfall of boots on the porch,
Cal moves past me to head them off, but there’s a bang on the door, and before he can stop it, the front door swings open.
“Well, well, well, looky here.”
I recognize Dale, one of Hatch’s men from the Rusty Nail. His eyes land on me, his brow lifts, and his lips snarl in a leer that has me baring my teeth at him.
“It’s about time you came home, little lady,” he says. “Ronnie's going to be happy to see you.”
“The fuck he will.” Cal steps in front of me, looming over Dale. “Because he’s not going to see her at all.”
“You been having fun with her up on that mountain of yours, Reeves?”
Disgust crawls over my skin at the tone in his voice.
At his sides, Cal’s hands flex into fists. “What do you want, Dale? You have no business here.”
Dale only grins. “Ronnie wants his money.”
“And he’ll get it,” Cal says evenly. “I’ll have it in the morning. You know as well as I do it takes a bit to get cash around here.”
“Price went up.”
To my surprise, it’s Cal who smiles slightly at that. Only there’s nothing funny or warm about the look on his face. “To hell it did.”
Dale pulls the toothpick from his mouth and looks Cal straight in the eye. “Problem is, while you were busy fucking your little prize up on the mountain there, things changed. This ain’t about the original debt anymore.”
Cal’s lips pull back in a snarl, his fist lifting almost faster than I can step up and put a hand on his arm to keep him from making a terrible situation even worse. “What did Bryson do now?” I ask, because I already know my brother’s responsible for this latest change as well.
Both men look at me. Dale snorts. “Your idiot brother decided to use Ronnie’s truck to skip town.” Cold creeps down my spine. “Ronnie’s really interested in getting it back.”
“Oh, my God.”
I close my eyes briefly and pinch the bridge of my nose. Will this ever stop?
But even as the panic rises, I realize something bigger. There’s no way Ronnie’s escalating things over a rusty old truck that’s barely worth the gas needed to haul it away.
That’s not him.
This is bigger than that.
What’s in the truck?
I swallow back the question.
“If Ronnie can’t find him,” Dale continues,” he figures maybe somebody else can motivate him to come home. If you know what I mean?”
The implication makes me want to throw up.
“Yeah,” Cal says quietly. “Not happening.”
Dale takes a step, and before I can stop him this time, Cal reaches out and grabs him by the collar of the shirt. “You listen carefully,” he says, his voice low and deadly. “The money’s coming, and that’s the only reason you’re still standing here right now.”
Nobody moves. Dale’s eyes are wide, but wisely—for once—he keeps his mouth shut.
“And if Hatch, or any of his asshole thugs, comes near her or her father again, there won’t be enough left of you to send a message back to him.”
There’s no mistaking how serious Cal is. Even Dale is smart enough to realize it as Cal finally releases his shirt, and he takes a staggering step backward.
He swallows and rubs at his shirt before daring to speak. “You threatening us?”
“No,” Cal’s voice stays calm and controlled. “I’m explaining exactly how this is going to go.”
Silence stretches between them for a long second before Dale finally turns to leave. “This ain’t over.”
“That’s up to you,” Cal says. “As far as I’m concerned, this ends here and now. Hatch’s issue is with Bryson. No one else.”
Dale turns to shoot me one final look before he spits on the floor and leaves, the door slamming behind him.
No one speaks until we hear the sound of the engine and the tires of the truck peeling out of the drive.
Finally, Cal turns to me, and the look in his eyes steals what breath I still have left.
Possessive and protective with barely contained fury simmering right under the surface. And there’s something else there, too. Something that pulls me closer to him.
“We’re leaving,” he says.
Maybe I should argue and insist that there’s no way I can leave my father. That this is my home.
But standing there, surrounded by empty bottles, the dead flowers on the porch, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air, I realize something that I know without a doubt is going to become a much bigger problem.
Going back to the mountain, to Cal’s, no longer feels like hiding.
It feels like going home.