Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Amelia
“Everyone in this town is right about you. You’re nothing but a waste,” Dylan shouts loud enough that I can hear him the moment I step outside the bar.
I hurry to where Russell’s car is haphazardly parked in the parking lot, fully prepared to defuse the situation.
He stands next to the back passenger door, which is open, and bends his head, invading Dylan’s personal space.
“And you’re nothing but a disrespectful brat. If you lived with me, I’d straighten you out once and for all. Your ass would be red from my belt, and that mouth of yours would stay shut.”
“The fuck you would,” I snap, grabbing his arm.
I yank hard, forcing him to stumble back a step.
He turns abruptly, his bloodshot eyes narrowing in on me, and my stomach twists with disgust. I know that look all too well.
I’ve been the victim of what it represents, and I swore my son never would.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I hiss. “Please tell me you’re not high right now.
That you haven’t been driving like this with our son in the car. ”
I thought we were finally past this. I mean, sure, we’ve been down this road a bunch of times, but I really believed him when he said this time was different.
Two months ago, he got a part-time job at a paper-mill factory, and they randomly drug-test all their employees.
It’s the only reason I felt comfortable allowing Dylan to be in the car with him.
“Oh, here we go,” he slurs. “Do me a favor and spare me the holier-than - thou routine. I haven’t touched a pill in months.”
“Then you’re drunk,” I volley through gritted teeth.
Shoving my hands against his chest, I push him with all my might, but even though he’s impaired, he’s steady on his feet and doesn’t budge.
“Let me be perfectly clear, I don’t give a shit if you kill yourself, but if you ever put my son in danger again, I’ll kill you with my bare hands. ”
The bastard laughs in my face, the sound sinister as he roughly grabs hold of my wrists.
“I had a couple of beers. Don’t pretend like you haven’t sent people out of this place only to learn the next morning they wrapped their car around a telephone pole.”
If I weren’t sure my son would wind up in the care of child services, I’d kill his father.
Instead, I count back from ten, silently willing myself to keep my cool.
When I’m confident, I won’t throw a punch and knock the living shit out of him, I pull my hands away from Russell, but his grip on me only tightens.
This motherfucker.
“Dylan, get out of the car,” I say calmly.
For all the crap my son gives me these days, he never goes against me in front of his father. Dylan quickly gets out of the car, grabbing his bookbag and slinging it over his shoulder, but he doesn’t move from where his father and I stand.
“Get your hands off her,” he says, his round cheeks flaming with anger.
“Mind your business, kid. I’ve had about enough of your mouth.”
“Don’t talk to him like that,” I growl. Hyperaware my son is watching my every move, I snap my hands free from Russell once and for all. “Go inside the bar, Dylan. Shadow is there.”
My son stops glaring at his dad, and his eyes find mine.
“I’m not leaving you,” he fires back.
There’s an edge to his tone, and it causes me to freeze in my tracks.
He sometimes deepens his voice when he’s around Shadow, and I laugh it off.
I tell myself it’s cute, that he’s just a boy trying to fit in with the guys.
But tonight it hits me differently, and as I stare at my son, I realize there is a hardness to him that wasn’t there before.
“Go,” I say a little firmer than I intend. “I’ll be fine. Your dad and I are just going to have a little chat.”
“Fuck this,” Russell says. “I don’t have the time for you to read me the riot act, Amelia. You want to play like you’re the better parent when all you’re doing is turning the boy into a fucking pussy.”
I don’t think; I just react. My hand rears back, and I slap him hard across the face.
“Call my son a pussy again and I’ll fucking knock your teeth down your throat.”
“You’re fucking crazy,” Russell sneers, holding a hand to his reddened cheek.
“If you think that’s crazy, I promise you have seen nothing yet,” I spat.
He scoffs. “What are you going to do, Amelia? You going to call your outlaw cousin? Have him do your dirty work for you?” Still holding a hand to his cheek, he turns to Dylan.
“Your mother is a fucking hypocrite. She says I’m a danger to you, meanwhile, she lets you hang around with fucking criminals.
You should ask her what Shadow does for a living, kid. ”
“Everything okay out here?”
My body goes still at the sound of Maddox’s gruff voice.
I like to think of myself as a woman who can handle just about anything, but the moment I feel him place a hand on my shoulder, I quickly learn that even I have my limits, and apparently Maddox Meadows intervening when I’m having a fight with my ex-husband seems to be one of them.
Before I can smack his hand away, Russell’s attention snaps to the rancher behind me, and a sinister laugh escapes his lips.
“Fuck off, Meadows.” He lowers his hand from his cheek, and his gaze comes back to me. “Got tired of spreading your legs for trashy bikers, did you? Or did they get tired of you? I bet it’s the latter, but fucking a dirty farmer isn’t an upgrade, Amelia.”
“The fuck you just say to her?” Maddox growls. His fingers curl possessively around my shoulder as he steps even closer, pressing his hard chest against my back.
Russell’s eyes lock with Maddox’s over my head, and he quirks an eyebrow. “What’s the matter farm boy, you didn’t know? Watch your boys around her. She craves attention, and parts her legs on a dime. How do you think he got here?”
He points his thumb at Dylan.
“Keep talkin’, Cain. Every word out of your mouth gives me more of a reason to make you disappear.”
Something inside me snaps, and I spin around to face Maddox.
He’s not the first person in Saddle Ridge to witness Russell and I go at one another’s throats, and he probably won’t be the last. But I don’t think I’ve ever been more embarrassed or angry about it.
I don’t need him to defend my honor. He’s thirteen years too late.
“That’s enough,” I sneer. Shoving a hand against his chest, I push him back a step. “I don’t need your help. I can handle Russell on my own.”
“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have to.” He glares at Russell. “That’s no way to talk to the mother of your son, and to do it in front of him makes you an even bigger piece of shit.”
“I don’t remember asking for your input, Meadows.”
“You didn’t,” Maddox replies. “I’m being generous.”
“I said that’s enough,” I snap. Maddox tears his gaze away from Russell and is about to say something when I shake my head. “No, I’m serious. I can handle him on my own. If you want to help, then take Dylan inside.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” Dylan says.
I turn to my boy, pressing my hand to his cheek. “I’ll be right behind you, I promise.”
Everything about his facial expression says he doesn’t quite believe me, but then he reluctantly turns to Maddox. “You’re Shadow’s friend, the guy who owns the ranch.”
“That’s me.” Maddox says, his eyes bouncing from my son to me. “I’ll bring him inside, but if you’re not back in there in two minutes—”
“Just take him inside,” I plead.
He stalls for another moment before he mutters something I can’t quite make out and leads my son inside the Rodeo Roundup. Once they’re out of view, I turn my attention back to Russell.
“Finally got farm boy’s attention, huh? I bet your panties are soaked.”
Ignoring the jab, I poke a finger against his chest. “What the hell did you do to Dylan?”
He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t do shit to the kid. I picked him up from school, took him for pizza, and studied those fucking words just like you told me to. A couple of my buddies came by the house, and he got bored. Started whining like a little girl that he wanted to go home.”
“I don’t buy that.”
“I really don’t give a fuck if you buy it or not, Amelia. He’s a spoiled brat. Last time he was with me, I told him I’d buy him a video game, but money is tight right now. I don’t need my twelve-year-old son calling me a liar or telling me how I should spend my money.”
Unfortunately, Dylan is used to Russell breaking his promises. I would bet my entire paycheck that Dylan never expected his dad to actually buy him anything.
“Money isn’t tight when you need a drink, though. Am I right?”
He narrows his eyes and points his finger at me. “That right there is the problem. He probably hears you say shit like that about me all the time.”
“No, Russell. I don’t speak badly of you to Dylan. He’s not a baby anymore. He’s got eyes and ears, and a fucking mind of his own.” I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head. “I should’ve known better than to ask you to step up. It won’t happen again.”
“Ain’t no sweat off my back. You’re ruining that, kid.”
I know better than to let anything he says get to me. I’m doing my best, and that’s a helluva a lot more than he does. More than that, I’m consistent. Dylan knows he can rely on me. He knows my love is unconditional.
“You ever threaten my son again, or talk to him like you did tonight, I will make your life miserable.”
He scoffs, slamming the back passenger door of his car. “Amelia, my life became miserable the day I found you crying in that field.”