Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Willow
“Cal.”
His name barely leaves my mouth before he's moving, shrugging off my touch as he heads towards the garage, his shoulders back, his jaw set.
“Cal, wait.”
He doesn’t.
Murph’s barking gets louder as we reach the garage. Luke’s right there beside us.
By the time Cal reaches for the door, I already know it’s too late.
He knows and whatever tiny hope I’d been clinging to—that I could explain it, or fix it, or…I don’t even know what—vanishes completely.
Cal shoves open the sliding door. It rattles on its hinges from the effort.
Inside, Bryson stands in front of a toolbox spilled open on the floor. When the door opens, he lunges for a wrench. Cal’s voice stops him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
In what’s probably the smartest decision he’s had in recent years, Bryson freezes.
For a long second, nobody speaks.
My brother looks like an exhausted little boy, dwarfed in the clean flannel I took from Cal’s drawer, his eyes darting between all of us like a trapped animal looking for an escape route.
Next to me, I can feel the tension radiating off Cal’s rigid body.
“You knew.” It’s not a question, and he doesn’t look at me when he speaks.
“Cal,” I try. “I can explain.”
He doesn’t acknowledge me. He takes two long strides into the garage, stepping over his spilled tools as he reaches for Bryson, grabs him by the collar of his shirt, and slams him up against the wall.
“You have some fucking nerve coming here after—”
“Cal!”
My shout echoes in the garage, but he barely seems to hear it; he’s so locked on my brother and the perceived threat of him.
The color drains from Bryson’s face as Cal shoves him harder against the wall. “You better have one hell of a fucking explanation for showing up here after everything she’s been through because of you.”
“I know,” Bryson says quickly. “I know I screwed up.”
“Do you?” Cal’s voice stays low, but that only makes it worse, emphasizing his anger even more.
“Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you ran away and left your sister to deal with another one of your messes.
And this one almost got her...” he swallows hard.
I see the tension in his jaw as he shakes his head.
“I should kill you for the danger you put her in.”
Bryson flinches; no doubt he believes Cal will make good on his threat. And for a flash, I’m not sure he won’t.
“Cal.” I move closer, hating how shaky my voice sounds. “Please.”
For a second, I think he’s going to keep ignoring me. And I wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to me again.
The thought makes my chest ache, but I don’t have time to let that idea take root. I need to manage this situation. Because even if he is an asshole and doesn’t deserve my help, Bryson is still my brother.
After a long moment, Cal’s eyes find mine.
The anger I expected to see flashing in his gaze isn’t there. I almost wish it were. Because the hurt I see reflected back at me is worse.
So much worse.
“He only got here this morning,” I say softly. “I didn’t know what else to do. He promised he’d be gone by tomorrow.”
“You could have told me.”
The words aren’t loud, but they don’t have to be.
I open my mouth to find some kind of explanation, but there isn’t one.
“You should have told me, Willow.”
He’s right. We both know it. After everything, I should have told him. I should have trusted him. In my gut, I know it would have been okay if I’d been honest with Cal. It’s not a familiar feeling, knowing I can trust in someone. But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn.
“I know,” the words are slightly more than a whisper. “And I’m—”
The unmistakable sound of tires crunching gravel and the revving of a truck engine cuts through the air before I can tell him everything I’m feeling.
For half a second, nobody moves, as if we’re all trying to convince ourselves we didn’t hear it. Then another set of tires follows the first.
Bryson’s head twists toward the closed door and the unmistakable sounds outside. Fear flashes over his face. “Shit.”
Every muscle in Cal’s body tightens. Whatever hurt he’d let me see a second ago is shoved aside as something cold and focused takes its place.
Beside me, Luke has gone still, too.
“What did you do?” Cal aims the question at my brother, who swallows hard and shakes his head. “I’m only going to ask you one more time, asshole.” Cal grits the words out. “What. Did. You. Do?”
“Hatch.”
We already knew the answer, but the name still sucks the air from the room.
“I called him and—”
“Bryson!” My mouth drops. “You called him? Why?”
“I’m in trouble, Willow.” His wild eyes find mine. “I saw the money he brought,” his head jerks toward Luke, “and I thought maybe it could buy me some time. You don’t know these guys like I do.”
“Yes.” Cal jerks him by the collar. “She does. And so do I. If you think for one second they’re going to let you walk out of here just because you’re a traitorous rat, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”
For a moment, I’m afraid Cal’s going to hit him, and I no longer care. But Cal shoves Bryson back against the wall as he releases him and turns to Luke. “Get the women inside.”
Luke’s already moving toward where he left Lilly on the porch. He stops and looks at me, but I shake my head.
“I’m not—”
“Willow.” Cal’s voice is tight.
“I’m not leaving,” I tell him. “This is my mess. I started this, and I’m not—”
“This is not your mess.” Cal turns so suddenly that I take a staggering step backwards. “This is his mess,” he doesn’t bother looking at Bryson, but we both know who he’s talking about. “And I will not have you getting caught up in it. Again.”
“Cal. This is—”
“Please.”
The softness of the single word surprises us both. His gaze flicks to the garage door at the sound of a slamming door.
We’re out of time.
For a moment, he stares at me.
Another truck door slams. A voice, loud and angry, calls out, but Cal doesn’t look away.
“Willow,” he says quietly, closing the inches between us. “Don’t make me choose between protecting you and dealing with this.”
The words hit me harder than anything else he’s said, because underneath the anger and the secrets I’ve kept, it’s clear that he cares.
I hesitate, but only for another second, and only because never in my life has anyone ever cared enough about me to protect me.
Ever.
“Be careful,” I whisper the words before pressing my lips to his, turning and running out the back door toward the house.
Cal
The second I step out of the garage, my training kicks in. My eyes scan the yard, assessing the scene.
From the corner of my eye, I see the porch door swing shut. Good, Willow's safely inside.
Two trucks.
Four men.
The gravel crunches under my feet as I take a step toward the house, placing myself between the trespassers and the women inside.
Murph is by my side, his teeth bared, a low growl rumbling from his chest.
I glance down at my faithful companion. “Murph, go find Willow.”
The dog looks up with big eyes, but I gesture toward the house with a slight nod. Like the good boy he is, the dog runs off without another word, positioning himself on the top of the porch where he can stand guard for the woman we’ve both fallen for.
It’s only then that I give the situation my full attention.
Ronnie Hatch leans against the hood of a blue truck I don’t recognize, probably because Willow's idiot brother stole his usual ride. I clench my teeth and mutter out a few choice curse words about the moron in my garage who started all of this.
Hatch looks up at the sound of my boots crunching on gravel. His thumbs are hooked through his belt loops, his expression relaxed enough that there’s no doubt the asshole thinks he’s got this situation easily in hand.
He’s wrong. Very wrong.
Beside me, Luke appears from the direction of the cabin and falls into place next to me without a word, only a nod that tells me what I need to know.
The women are safe, and the message has been sent to the rest of our brothers. Holt and Beck will have been notified in case things go sideways out here.
Not that I expect them to. Hatch isn’t the type to want to draw attention to himself more than necessary. With any luck, he’ll take his money and get the hell off my property for good.
Hatch stands, spitting a stream of tobacco juice into the dirt at his feet.
Filthy animal.
“You’re not welcome here, Hatch.”
“I’ll be on my way when I get what’s mine.”
The hair on the back of my neck bristles.
He makes a show of looking around. “Where is the little lady anyway?”
Luke clamps a hand on my shoulder, holding me back moments before I lunge for the fucker. “He’s just trying to get you riled up.”
“No,” Hatch says as if Luke had addressed him. “I’m trying to get what’s mine.”
“Willow has nothing to do with this.” I work hard to keep my voice level and my temper in check. Luke’s right. He’s only trying to get me worked up and give him an excuse to escalate this even further. I won’t give him the satisfaction. “I’ve got your money right here.”
“Bout time.”
Hatch uses his head to gesture at one of his cronies to step forward.
I toss the envelope at Dale’s feet, where it lands with a cloud of dust.
“It’s all there. Debt’s paid. Get the hell out of here.”
Dale bends to grab the envelope, and I have to hold myself back from kicking dirt in his face. My temper is only barely reined in.
Hatch takes his time flicking through the bills, counting them before tucking the envelope into his back pocket. “Price went up,” he says, spitting into the dirt. “Pretty sure I sent that message.”
“That debt’s not mine.” I cross my arms over my chest and spread my legs. “As far as I’m concerned. We’re finished here.”
Right on cue, because he’s clearly a bigger idiot than I thought, there’s the sound of gravel crunching behind me as Bryson leaves the safety of the garage.
“There he is.” Hatch’s gaze slides past me and lands on Willow's brother. “Thanks for the call. I was beginning to think you were hiding from me.”
Behind him, his men laugh.
Nobody on my side does, and the sound dies quickly.
“Where’s my truck?”
“I…it’s…I thought maybe you’d…”
“What?” Hatch’s facade of friendliness dies. “You thought calling me to give me the heads up on a debt that was already mine to collect on would buy you my forgiveness?”
Beside me, I see Bryson blanch. He’s an even bigger idiot than I thought. And a shady one at that.
“You stole from me, kid.”
“I was going to pay it back.”
Even I know that’s the wrong thing to say.
Hatch barks out a laugh. “No,” he says smoothly. “You weren’t.” And then to me, he says, “Hand him over.”
I should. After all, this kid has caused me nothing but trouble. And money. Never mind what he’s put Willow through. I don’t owe him any loyalty at all. Hell, I’ve already done more than my share.
I take my time looking between Bryson and the men waiting to beat the shit out of him.
Next to me, Luke shifts his weight. I know him well enough to know that he’ll back whatever decision I make. I also know him well enough to know that he already knows what I’m going to do.
“No.”
I can hear Bryson exhale beside me, but I don’t spare him a glance. I’m not doing this for him.
“Really, Reeves? You don’t even like him.”
“No,” I say. “I don’t.”
“Then why exactly are we having this conversation?” Hatch takes a step toward us, but I hold my ground.
Because I know exactly what it means if I hand him over. Because I know what he means to Willow and what it will do to her if I do. Because I already care way more than I should. But mostly, because it’s the right fucking thing to do.
“You’re not taking him.”
Hatch sighs dramatically and flexes his fingers tighter, cracking his knuckles. “I was hoping to do this the easy way.”
“Funny.” I fold my arms over my chest. “I was hoping you’d take your money and crawl back under whatever rock you came from.” My jaw twitches.
The men behind him laugh nervously and exchange glances. Beside me, I hear Luke sigh. He knows the situation is about to go sideways. As if it wasn’t already.
Hatch’s smile slips.
“That’s a problem with you mountain boys.” Hatch shakes his head. “You think you’re untouchable up here.”
“No.” Luke’s voice is calm beside me. “We just don’t like bullies.”
Hatch ignores him, his gaze fixed on me. "I’m not leaving till I get what I came for.”
“You got your money.”
He shakes his head once and spits tobacco juice into the dirt. “Not my truck.”
“Not my problem.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bryson trying to back away. I shoot him a quick glare, and he stays put. We’re here right now because of him. I’ll be damned if he’s going anywhere.
“The product I lost sure as hell is your problem, Reeves.”
Product?
That catches my attention. I swallow hard and pinch the bridge of my nose. Of course, this isn’t as simple as some money and a stolen truck, not that anything about this situation has been simple up till now.
Luke curses under his breath as he, too, figures out how deep this situation goes. I turn to Bryson. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into, kid?”
His face is sheet white, and he looks like he might throw up.
“Tell me, Cal,” Hatch takes another step forward and jerks his head toward my garage. “You have enough cash back there to cover the product this asshole stole? Or do I start searching on my own?”
“Take one more step and I—”
The threat is lost to the slamming of the screen door behind me.
I watch as Hatch’s eyes widen and his lip curls up as he turns in the direction of the cabin.
And Willow.
I don’t need to turn to know it’s her standing there.
Luke mutters a curse under his breath. I swallow back my own string of expletives.
“Well, well, there she is. I was wondering when you were going to join us, little lady.”
Every muscle in my body locks up. Slowly, I turn, and my stomach drops at the sight of her.
Willow stands on the porch, her hands planted firmly on her hips, looking every bit as stubborn and sassy as she did the night she set foot into the Rusty Nail.
The sight of her disobeying my request, with Murph at her feet like a trusty sidekick ready to go into battle, should piss me off. It makes me suck in a breath instead, because God help me, I don’t think I’ve ever been more impressed.