Chapter 19
Things I didn’t expect today. Number one — Pumpkin finding a spider the size of my hand and delivering it to me like a little prize while it was still alive, and, two — three Knight brothers walking into the house one after the other.
They even came in order, Roman who paused and did a slow perusal of me, my skin prickling with every place his eyes touched. Then there was Silas, who grunted his greeting, and finally Remy. The youngest, the bronco rider.
He grins and looks me over, the way he does making me feel like I’m at auction, circling me so he can see every angle.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” He hoots, “He actually found one.”
My assumption is that he doesn’t know about the clause.
I remember him from high school. He was loud. Charismatic. Everyone loved him.
We were never in the same circle, hell I wasn’t in the same circle with any of them, but Roman and Silas were the quiet type, something they held to their chests, even now. Remy, however, has always had an air about him that opened him up to people.
“Hello,” I say to the youngest Knight brother. It’s scary how very similar they all are but different in the same way. They share the same eyes, that whiskey, honey gold and the same dark hair but each of them is different in their own way.
“What did he do?” Remy stops in front of me. “There was a bribe. No one willingly marries that fucker.”
“Remy,” Roman scolds. I look toward him. He’s holding his side, a frown pulling down his brows.
“What?” He responds incredulously. “Am I wrong?”
I remain quiet, not sure what to say or if I should say anything at all.
“There was an agreement,” Roman sighs.
“I knew it,” Remy laughs. “She’s much too pretty to be married to you.”
My cheeks heat. “Um, I’m just going to go.”
“You don’t have to,” Roman steps closer, reaching for me, but I move just out of touch.
This is all too much; none of this is what I agreed to at all.
There were supposed to be no feelings involved, and I thought I’d be able to control the attraction I felt toward him, but the man is like a magnet.
He pulls me in even when I’m desperately trying to run in the opposite direction.
“I’m just going to go take a swim,” I tell him. “Pumpkin is around here somewhere.”
“Not working today?” He asks before I can leave.
I’d called in expecting Roman would need someone here for him, but since his brothers are here for the moment, I can head down the falls.
“Not today.”
“Be careful,” He says, eyes holding mine.
My stomach does a little flip as my heart beats just a little harder.
I make a quick escape, taking the stairs two at a time so I can get a bag together.
When I return downstairs, the three of them are talking in Roman’s office, a gap in the door allowing their voices to carry.
He’s telling Remy about the marriage clause and how I came to be the one he chose.
“You want more,” Remy says.
That’s my cue. I dart for the door, slipping out into the warm spring sunshine.
It’s been busier than usual — or as far as I can tell — since the whole cattle incident, with more people and more eyes watching.
I think back to what Silas had said, how it was done on purpose, and a shiver runs through me.
A couple of the guys say hello to me as I pass them, but it doesn’t take long before I’m all alone, the sounds of the ranch becoming a distant hum.
I slip into the trees and follow the trail, a sigh leaving me when the sound of the falls replaces all the noise inside my head.
The sun is hitting the water just right, making it sparkle, and there’s a small rainbow being thrown off by the waterfall spray.
A sense of peace settles into my bones as I strip down to my bikini, leaving my clothes in a pile on the bank.
The water feels slightly warmer, but it’s still chilly, making my skin prickle as I wade deeper, my hands swishing over the surface.
It’s been a few days, the longest break I’ve had from swimming in a year, and it’s like my body knew, like I had starved it but now it’s being fed.
I push deeper until I can no longer touch the bottom and then swim out to the center.
I don’t know what happened, what changed.
We had both been pretty clear, we knew how it was meant to go, but I messed it up.
Kissing Roman was the catalyst, or was it?
It could be the way he cares so damn deeply, or how he watches when he thinks no one is looking.
Maybe it’s his smile and the lines that appear every time he does.
He’s caught me off guard, and now I’m frantically trying to get all those walls back up.
I don’t know anymore, and I don’t know how I’m meant to move on from the kiss. Not when all I do is think about it, flipping between wanting it and being too afraid to take it. Could we just do this for a year? Enjoy it and then part ways? I suppose that’s an option.
I guess it’s somewhat inevitable when there’s an attraction between two people and they’re forced to be together in proximity, orbiting one another but never touching.
The tension builds and builds until finally, it snaps.
We are on a collision course, and unless something changes, I won’t be able to stop the inevitable crash.
There was a reason I didn’t seek out relationships.
I didn’t have the time mostly; I didn’t want to commit and compromise the things I loved.
Sure, that might be selfish, but I didn’t see myself happy in any other scenario.
Yet, since being here with Roman, I’ve had more time off from the bar than I ever have since it opened.
It just feels messy. And wrong. So fucking wrong.
I am paid to be here. He literally gave me half a million dollars to be here; surely that makes going further with the man questionable at best. What kind of person does that make me?
We should have made rules, tough rules, thrown in some legal jargon or something!
I push onto my back and adjust a little until I’m floating in the middle of the plunge pool, staring up at a clear blue sky. It feels like a promise of summer, a long, warm summer, and it gets me excited. This town comes alive in those few short months.
At the shore, I hear a branch snap and immediately right myself, treading water as I search the trees that surround me.
I don’t see anything or anyone, but I definitely heard it.
It could have been an animal, but worry runs through me regardless.
I swear I hear shuffling too, like earth and old leaves moving, but I still see nothing.
If it were Roman, he would have shown himself. To the left, another branch snaps, and I spin in that direction the best I can, spotting what looks like a man passing between the trees. He’s too far away to make out anything more than a simple silhouette, dark clothing...
“Hello?” I call, my voice cracking just a touch. I suddenly feel exposed, vulnerable, two things I have never felt being here, not even when Roman caught me out here the first time or when he watched me. “Who’s there?”
They move again, quicker, not even attempting to be quiet. My heart starts to pound, and real, heavy fear floods through me. It tightens my gut, constricts my throat, lodging a scream there.
I can’t tell whether they’re moving away or coming closer. It’s definitely a person, no animal moves like that.
But what do I do? Where is safe? They have eyes on me, they’ll see whichever way I go. The falls to hide? They’ll see it. To the shore? They could be right there waiting. And if I remain in the middle, in the open, I’m basically a target. What if they have a gun?
I don’t know what to do.
Nothing that happened was an accident.
Shit.
I watch the person move again, darting away, further into the trees and toward the boundary line next to the road. My eyes stay on him for as long as they can, until he becomes a blur in the trees and all the shapes around him look the same.
A quietness forms once more, but I hear everything.
The rustle of the leaves as they sway with the wind, the roar of the falls, the gentle lapping of water at the banks of the pool.
I don’t dare move. Instead, I scan the trees, over and over again, until the cold sets into my bones and my fingers prune, my muscles screaming for relief.
I don’t know how much time passes, but fear keeps me here, regardless.
The mind plays tricks on you when you’re scared, so what if this is a trick? What if they didn’t leave? I can’t keep this up much longer. I’m a great swimmer, but treading water is tiring, and I’m already faltering.
Nothing else has happened, no new branches snapping or movement in the trees. I have to risk it, or I’ll drown. I don’t particularly like either option, but there’s only one choice. I have to get out of the water.
Taking a deep breath in the hopes it’ll help my nerves, I swim toward my clothes at the water's edge. There’s no grace to it, it’s water splashing and kicking as I try to keep my eyes clear so I can see any waiting threat.
I swim until I can’t physically swim anymore, the gritty bed of the pool scratching against my legs and hands, and lift to stand, my arms coming around myself like a shield.
Still, I watch, looking for movement, but I’m also searching for a weapon.
A thick branch or a rock I could use to defend myself.
Grabbing my towel from the bag, I wrap it around myself, but I don’t get dressed or dry off. Once I’ve shoved everything back into my bag, I hoist it onto my shoulder and then pick up the rock I’d chosen as a weapon. It’ll do if I need something, stun them enough that I might be able to escape.
My sneakers rub at the backs of my ankles, the mix of wet and skin and rough fabric leaving a sore spot behind. None of that matters.
I’m about halfway out of the woods when the hair on the nape of my neck stands on end and a branch snaps behind me.
“Fuck,” I hiss, taking off in a run. Behind me, they do the same.
No. No.
Shit.
I drop my bag and clutch the rock, a scream bubbling up in my throat.
Panic and fear make me want to both run and fall at the same time.
I can see the break in the trees up ahead, the ranch right there, but it looks so far away.
Part of me wants to look behind me, to see what I’m up against, but I know better.
That will only slow me down. I could trip, fall and then I’ll live up to every horror movie where the main character does that exact same thing, and we all sit and yell at the TV screen, asking them how they could be so stupid.
I’m so close. So close.
A man steps out onto the trail right in front of me, and I don’t have time to dodge them. We collide in a mess of limbs and screams, landing on the forest floor hard.
“Help me!” My voice rips out of my throat, the sound so loud it stirs birds from the branches above.
Arms tighten around me, pinning me down. Fighting is useless; they’re heavy and strong, and I can’t fucking move.
“Please,” I cry, struggling in their hold, “Please don’t.”