Chapter Thirteen
Beau
T he past half hour has been one of the longest of my life.
I was at Thatcher's having a beer and catching up when I saw a message come across on his phone.
I wasn't intentionally being nosy, but Thatch had left it on the table when he went to get a drink, and I couldn't ignore Jo's name flashing across the screen. What I read had my pulse racing.
I have no fucking idea what she meant by “more than she or Thatch could patch up on their own” or why she would need the beautiful, freaky women from the apothecary.
The message said something about losing too much of something, but then the preview of the message cut off, and I couldn't see any more.
My mind started racing as I tried to piece together a puzzle I was clearly missing parts of.
What the hell was Jo doing? And why the fuck did she lie to me about going to bed early tonight? Obviously, that isn't the case if she’s needing Thatcher’s help at damn near midnight.
I tried to school my expression when Thatcher walked back into the room. Rage, hurt, confusion, and worry all coursed through me, fighting to wreck my carefully crafted facade.
I didn't have to hide my downward smile for long.
The flashing light on Thatcher’s phone quickly alerted him to the missed message when he sat down. Immediately, he made an excuse about it being later than he thought, and he ushered me towards the door.
I was halfway home when the need for fucking answers won out.
I directed my truck towards the farm instead of heading home.
I broke more traffic laws than I did in the last ten traffic violations I’d initiated, but I didn't give a damn.
I needed to get to Jo, and I needed to get to her fast. I could feel in my gut that something was seriously wrong as if the atmosphere had shifted from the time I left Jo until this moment.
The air was heavy, pressing in on me. I wouldn't be surprised if it exploded at any moment, in a magnificent storm that would rival the one swirling in my chest.
Pulling onto the property, I bypassed the road to the inn and headed towards Jo's house and the barn. I thought I'd find her at home, but there was not a light on when I pulled up. Scanning the property, I could just make out the glow of lights from the barn shining through the pitch-black night.
It took no more than a minute to park my truck and rip the barn door open. I don't know what I was expecting, but it sure as fuck wasn't this—whatever this is.
Even with how loud the door was upon my entrance, neither Jo or Nana heard me come in. I've had a few seconds to take in the scene in front of me, but my brain is refusing to compute what I'm seeing.
A huge, clear plastic sheet on the floor of the barn is covered in blood, various knives and saws strewn haphazardly about it. Beside the tarp is a full garbage bag. But as concerning as those things are, they don't come close to the two women.
Nana has rubber gloves on, covered in blood. When my eyes make it to Jolene, I flinch as something flesh-colored goes sailing over the side of the pig enclosure and the hogs go wild inside.
Jo grimaces as she turns back to Nana, her hand outstretched.
At first, I think she is grimacing in disgust, but she's guarding her side as if she's in pain.
She's wearing all black except for the long green gloves that come up to her elbows and are also covered in blood.
When my eyes track back to her face, I realize how pale she is. Too fucking pale.
Before I can say anything or even move, I'm snapped out of my stupor when I watch in horror as Nana hands a human leg to Jo. Jo all but stumbles back to the side of the pig enclosure, raising up the leg. Several things happen at once, making the next few moments complete chaos.
Realizing what she's about to do, I yell out, "What in the actual fuck is going on here?"
At the same time, the barn door slams open behind me as Thatcher, Rieka, Kenina, and what looks like a black panther come racing in. When I whip my head back to Jo, I catch the leg flying over the side, just before Jolene's eyes roll back and she drops to the floor.
I race across the barn and scoop her up into my arms as I try to see what's wrong. It isn't until I feel the frayed edge of her shirt that I find her injury. Carefully lifting the hem, I have to swallow down the bile fighting to get free at the sight of a bullet hole in my girl.
I quickly press my palm to the wound but startle when warm liquid pools on my pants. As carefully as I can, I turn Jo on her side and see the exit wound. It's on the edge of her torso, so chances are it didn't hit any major organs, but I can tell she's lost way too much blood.
"Oh my God. She never said anything about that when she got home."
I can hear the waver in Nana's voice, but I can't tear my eyes from the flood spilling from Jo's abdomen through my fingers. The only thing that pulls my attention from Jo is the feeling of being watched.
Raising my head, I'm met with yellow eyes and a snarl full of sharp teeth that could tear through my flesh in a single bite.
"What the hell is that?" I try not to make any sudden movements, afraid to anger the large panther in front of me.
"That's Pem. She and Jolene have a special bond. We're here to help patch her up, but if you don't let us help soon, we might have to add you to that list. Pem doesn't like seeing Jo hurt," the woman with the violet hair states matter-of-factly.
I lower Jolene back down to the barn floor before moving a foot back, but that’s as far as I'm going. I don't know these women and have no idea how they plan to help when what Jo really needs is a doctor.
"I'm sure you're spinning out right now, Beau, but Rieka and Kenina are here to help.
Promise. They've been fixing up Jo-Jo for years when one of her reckless stunts brought about one injury or another.
They may not be doctors, but they'll have her feeling right as rain well before any doctor could.
They have a sixth sense about these things.
When I went to ask them for help, they were already waiting at the curb and said Pem was already on her way.
" Thatcher’s hand gently grips my shoulder in reassurance.
My brain is so overloaded with everything I've seen in the last five minutes, so I just nod and step back further as the women move in. I can't comprehend what Thatcher is saying as I watch the women pull glass bottles, gauze, a needle and thread, and several other things out of their bags.
"Come on. Let's go get some fresh air." Thatcher tries to push me towards the door, but the need to be close enough to see Jo with my own eyes has me digging my feet in to stand my ground.
"I'll back up, but I'm not leaving until I know she's okay. She was fucking shot, Thatcher," I growl as I run my hands through my hair. I don't even care that they're covered in Jolene's blood. "What is going on here?"
"I …" Thatcher must see the fire in my eyes as he raises a hand to gesture for me to wait. "That’s not my story to tell. And before you start cussing me out, just remember I warned you about this."
"What the fuck do you mean?"
"I. Warned. You." Thatcher punctuates each word with a finger jab to my chest. "I told you that if you were going to pursue Jolene, you needed to really think about it and decide if you'll be able to accept her, demons and all.
You said we all have demons, which I get, but I reiterated Jo's being bigger than the average person's. "
"Okay … What's that got to do with tonight?"
"Fucking hell, I'm gonna have to spell it out for ya, ain't I? You're a smart man and an even better cop, Beau. What's your gut telling you about what you walked into tonight?" Thatcher levels me with a steely glare.
I take a deep breath and peer around the barn. "It's telling me a hell of a lot right about now."
Thatch nods. "I'm sure it is. I can honestly say I have no fucking clue what she got up to tonight."
"You said tonight. As in, you don’t know about tonight specifically, but you know more about Jo and maybe even situations like this in general, don't you, Thatch?"
"Like I said, not my story to tell unless you're asking me in a professional capacity. And if that's the case, you're gonna have to talk to my lawyer."
"Fuck me. Will you quit with the vagueness and just clue me in already? I'm not asking as a cop."
"I—"
"Beau, can you come help an old lady find a seat?" I don't even know when Nana DuVall moved over to where Thatcher and I are talking, but there's no way I can refuse her.
"Of course, ma'am."
"Oh, quit with the ‘ma'am’ shit. Why don't you grab the bench out of the tack room. Then we can stay in here and keep an eye on our girl."
"I can do that." I hustle off to get the bench and get back to Nana.
Once seated, she turns towards me and grabs my hand. "Many folk around here see our land, our businesses, know we come from old money, and think us DuVall girls have had it easy, but that's far from the truth. Has Jolene told you much about her pa or her grandpa?"
"No, ma'am. Just that her pa was a mean son of bitch. The day he left, you three ladies celebrated."
"Hmm, no surprise that's all the more she told you.
Ever since my first husband passed in a farming accident when Jo's mom was little, us DuVall women have had shit luck when it comes to men.
Hell, we've joked about being cursed, but at times I've wondered if we actually are.
" Nana's sitting beside me, but it's as if she's a million miles away as she stares off to the side in silence, remembering—or maybe regretting—her former years.