Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Julian
I peer up and over the crowd gathered toward the stage and another horde of people wrapped around the bar inside. I don’t see her. Damn, The Whispering Fool is packed tonight. Maybe that was part of their plan.
The minute Birdie said his name, I knew my gut had been right.
It wasn’t just jealousy I felt toward Reed fucking Andrews.
My instinct is to protect Wyn, and that was what keyed in when he was around her.
From what I’ve learned, he’s the kind of dangerous that escalates.
I need to find her and figure out a way to tell her what Birdie and Lu had asked of me, and why.
The text I received on our drive home needed to be addressed right away.
BIRDIE CROWNE
I’m going to need a full set. Before you say no, come see me so I can lay it all out for you.
“Reed Andrews has become a problem. The kind of problem we can’t just leave unattended,” she says with a solemn look. “We’ve been watching him for a while, and I had a gut feeling. I knew I should have listened . . .”
“Ma, the hardest ones are the ones we don’t see right away,” Lu says, perched on the counter.
She glances back at me when she adds, “He took advantage of at least two of his students, as far as we’re aware.
The sheriff’s department is, in no surprising turn of events, fucking ignoring it.
The university needs more proof and formal reports.
They want these women to recollect every detail when they’ve already told them they couldn’t remember anything, other than they had been out with friends, ran into their professor, and from there, only flashes of the night.
” She glances at Birdie, who sits in the large leather armchair across the room.
“It’s a fucking guidebook on how to handle sexual assault all wrong, those fuckers.
That’s the problem with having a good ol’ boy in charge here. Fucking patriarchy.”
“Lu, knock it off with that.” Birdie waves her off.
“I’m not interested in seeing another woman get hurt and then told she should have watched how much she was drinking. It’s almost poetic, flipping that on its head.”
Birdie nods at her daughter, before looking back to me. “It’s rare, but this time, I agree with her.”
I know what these women are capable of. I’ve been around plenty of dangerous people throughout my life, but this is personal for them. It makes what they want to do feel justified.
“If you need something cleaned up, I’ll make an exception,” I say to Lu, then look at Birdie. “For you. And for this.”
Birdie sighs, knowing what saying that means for me.
Stan Billings was supposed to be my last. I was ending that part of my family’s legacy—I told her as much.
What she doesn’t know is that the reason for that choice, at the core of it, is Wyn.
I wanted to find her—I wanted to have a life that didn’t include lies or secrets about who I really am.
Even if I never found her, I was choosing something different for myself.
She tilts her head and watches me when she asks, “You love her, don’t you?”
That’s when I hear her—Wyn. The sharp, high-pitched scream isn’t to cheer on or chant about shots. It’s faint in comparison to the speakers pushing out music mixed with the crowd laughing and hollering.
Fear slices up my spine. I don’t think, I just move. Turning on the ball of my foot, frantically searching for her, I shove inside, past Gail and Gina, who yell out behind me.
“Stevie! Have you seen Wyn?” I call out as I head right for the bar.
“She was just talking with Reed,” she shouts back, looking toward the high-top tables. There’s a commotion of people around a drunk girl, but no sign of Wyn.
I turn, head whipping around, looking back where I just came and down in the other direction.
But it’s the movement toward the back hallway past the bathrooms that makes me do a double take.
The exit sign bathes everything in red. Except at the very end of the hall, the door is closing and the outside flood lights pour inside. That’s when I see her. And him.
“Wyn!” I shout, but the bar is so rowdy, only a few people turn as I plow into them.
I almost topple over as I race toward the far back side of the bar, my heart pounding in my ears.
I right myself as I reach the short hall.
But I don’t stop, picking up speed and driving into the almost closed door.
It knocks Reed down and shoves Wyn in the process, all of us hitting the ground hard.
With a shout, I get up fast and shove him back down as he tries to stand.
“Get the fuck off,” Reed seethes as I reach around his neck, tucking him into the crook of my elbow.
I pull back as he tries moving forward. If I can lock my legs, I know I’ll be able to cut off his air supply and make him pass out.
I know who this man is, what he’s done, the people he’s lied to and fuck knows what else.
“Julian!” Wyn cries out.
“Wyn, you alright, baby?!” I yell out to her. But instead of a response, she screams just as Reed twists his body and elbows me right in the ribs, knocking the wind from me. Cursing, I kick his legs out from under him, coughing as I try to catch my breath.
I turn away at the wrong moment, because he’s righted himself enough to gain the upper hand. His fist connects to my lower back, punching me in the kidney first, and then another quick blow across my chin. This fucker.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Wyn scurry back on her ass as gravel and dust fly up around us. “Stop! Oh my god,” she cries out. “Reed, stop!”
My mouth floods with liquid. I instantly recognize the coppery taste of blood. Spitting it out, I take a wide step back, looking at her over my shoulder. She never answered me, and I need to know he didn’t hurt her. “You okay?”
Her eyes dart over my shoulder, and I know I’ve turned my attention for too long as Reed's hands shove at my back, and I shuffle forward, trying to gain my footing. I don’t hit the ground; instead, I'm just closer to her now.
“Tell me you’re okay and then get the hell out of here, Crowne.” I look around her body, scouring for anything that looks like she’s been injured. The side of her shirt is shoved up, her scar dirty with mud and dust. Her bottom lip has a streak of blood across it.
All of it is enough to flip a switch inside of me.
“Not fucking okay,” I grit out.
“Julian!” she shouts in warning.
Reed's hand is moving at me, and in reflex, I throw my hand out, stopping the bullshit knife that he’s trying to slash me with.
It slices through my palm but stops at the leather cuff and gets knocked away as I move fast. Adrenaline spikes through my veins, and I barely feel the burn of ripped-open skin.
It’s like flint and fuels, it sparks and ignites the devil that simmers below my surface.
I smile at him, the warm taste of blood lingering along my teeth, an internal demand to show him how it’ll never be okay that he put his hands on my girl.
This wasn’t ever going to be a fair fight, but since he started it, I will happily finish and erase all traces of this man.
Rearing back, I throw a right hook, catching him clean across the jaw, and then launching my body forward to tackle him to the ground. Wyn runs toward the door, hopefully doing as I’ve asked and getting the hell away from this.
I get in two left bloody hooks across his face and a right jab along his side. Leaning forward, I shove my weight against my forearm that I’ve thrust against his windpipe, making him gasp and cough.
Reed takes advantage of my injury and punches at my bloody hand.
“Fuuuuckkkkk!” I grit out, more than feeling it that time. He flails beneath me, and it’s enough that he rolls us over, the back of my head hitting the gravel hard.
Wyn screams my name gutturally, and moments later, she’s running back in our direction.
He wrestles on top of me as he tries to choke me, all while I attempt to hold him still, my hands digging into his, just as she swings her arm out and screams at the top of her lungs.
It collides with Reed’s side so fiercely that it forces him to lurch over, “Fuck! God fucking, gahhhh!” he shouts.
Distracted, he eases his grip on me, and I shove out from under him with a grunt, yanking him with me as we tumble closer to the edge of the embankment leading down to the river.
Along the back side of the bar, it’s a bit deeper drop-off.
Mud and rock dig into my arms and legs as we fight for the controlling position again.
The loud echo of a shotgun fires off above us, one concussive boom that cracks the air open.
Silence consumes the air as we topple over.
The second shot jerks us apart from each other, my breath labored as I twist away and search the source of it.
On the edge of the embankment we just rolled down stands Birdie with a sawed-off shotgun cocked at her hip and a bottle of whiskey held between two fingers.
The muffled sound of the band plays in the background and rumbling engines from motorcycles pull in closer.
On one side is Lu with her arms crossed and on the other stands Wyn, chest heaving and half hunched over. My brave girl.
“You okay, baby?” I call out to Wyn, keeping my eyes on her before they quickly snap to Birdie.
Her voice is quiet at first, but then she calls out louder, “Yes. I’m okay.”
“This isn’t how we do things around here, Mr. Colton,” Birdie says coldly to me.
My body coils even tighter, eyes narrowing on her. I must have fucking heard that wrong.
“Birdie,” Wyn shouts in a reprimanding tone.
“That’s enough, Wynona,” she says, raising her eyebrow. Birdie never calls her Wynona. “Reed, are you alright?” she calls out to him.
What the fuck is going on?