Chapter 2
That was the night from hell.
I mean literally. With dead rats on the ground and more scurrying through the house like they own the place, I might as well be in the fiery pits themselves.
I spent the night in my car, stuffing an old towel in the door and closing it, then tucking it in anywhere I could so that it would at least deter the little fuckers from coming through the window gaps.
By morning, I am tired, hungry, pissed off, and ready for this to be over.
I’m more determined than ever to win that bet against Knox now, because it means he can deal with this house and I can get out without it sending me broke.
Plus, he is good with a gun, and I have a feeling I might just need one after this.
But first, I need a damn coffee because I can’t face the day ahead without one.
They’re all beautiful, though, like a girl band strutting towards me, about to bust out into song.
“Morning!” the one with the gorgeous dark red hair sings out, cheerful.
“Hey,” I say, wearily, not entirely sure why they’re here.
“I’m Mera, in case you forgot, and that’s Nia and Sable,” Red says, pointing her finger to the other two girls.
Mera, that’s right.
“Callie,” I smile. “Dare I ask why you’re here?”
“This is an intervention,” Mera says, stepping up to the side of the car and pulling out a tent. “We heard about the bet, and we’re not about to let you lose. Knox needs someone to kick him up the ass.”
I chuckle, sliding off the hood and standing, staring as they unload things from the jeep.
“The rats almost got me,” I admit. “I spent the night in my car.”
“Ugh,” Sable says, walking up onto the porch and reaching for the front door.
“Don’t open that door!” I yell, but it’s too late; she has entered.
“Don’t worry,” Mera laughs. “She can handle it.”
“If you saw the size of those rats, you might not be certain of that,” I point out.
Nia reaches into the jeep and pulls out a coffee that looks hotter and fancier than mine. She hands it to me. “You can’t be living on cheap coffee.”
For a second, I want to cry—from something like gratitude—but Sable howls from indoors, “WHY ARE THERE DEAD RATS IN HERE?”
I make eye contact with Mera and then follow them inside. Now, the house of my nightmares is full of people, and my first instinct is to warn them to touch nothing, don’t sit on the furniture, don’t put your bag on the floor, and please, for the love of God, wear closed-toe shoes.
Through the archway, Mera is already cataloging the scene before her, “You know, ‘rustic chic’ doesn’t have to be literal.”
Nia shoves a bag of donuts at me, and my stomach grumbles. “Before we go any further, eat something; it looks like you’ll need it.”
“I’m scared to pull anything out in case the rats sniff it out...”
Sable laughs. “Come on.”
We do a lap of the place. The kitchen is still uninhabitable. The living room is a scattered graveyard of rodent carnage. The only place safe to sit is on the porch, so we sit down on the steps and eat. I am starving, and these donuts are so damned good I want to cry with happiness.
I expect them to grill me about Knox within the first five minutes, but it only takes two.
“So,” Mera says, “you’re really Knox’s old lady’s cousin?”
I nod, chewing. “Yep. Harper was more like a sister to me, though. I knew about Knox; I just never met him until now.”
“So, what happened to Harper?” Nia asks.
Mera elbows her. “That’s not really—”
But before anyone can finish, there’s a thud on the roof overhead. And another. Then a slow, slidey scrape that makes it sound like we’re in a horror movie, about to be murdered by some unknown being on the roof.
“What the hell was that?” Nia whisper-hisses.
I tip my head up, eyes wide, heart racing.
Then, as if in some sick kind of slow motion, a snake falls out of the tree onto the porch railing three feet from us.
It probably isn’t as big as my mind makes it out to be, but that doesn’t matter; it’s a snake, and it is alive.
The sound we make is less a scream and more a pack of feral goats.
I lunge away from the snake, and Sable’s already thrown her coffee cup at it.
Mera’s standing on the porch chair screaming, and Nia is gone.
I mean off the porch. Gone.
The snake is unimpressed and vanishes between the boards.
None of us move for a long, long minute.
My chest rises and falls with adrenaline, and I’m scared to take a step in case it pops its head back up.
“I think you’re going to need a bigger tent,” Mera whispers.
I shoot a look in her direction.
“You can come and stay with us at the club,” Sable offers.
“No, because then he wins,” I grumble. “It’s fine. Only six more sleeps to go.”
“Well,” Nia says, popping up from behind the tree. “We can at least find somewhere safe to put your tent, so you can sleep at night.”
We all stare at each other, and I know we’re all thinking the same thing.
There isn’t anywhere we can put a flimsy tent that will keep these things out.
I’m screwed.
“I think I’m going to need a gun,” I exhale.
“Someone say gun?”
We all spin to see Knox and another biker walking up the drive. I didn’t even hear them come in, but judging by the smirks on their faces, they saw the whole damn thing. Great.
“You ladies scream real fuckin’ loud.”
The biker who speaks is gorgeous, like knock-your-socks-off gorgeous. His patch says he is the President, whatever that means. Mera leaps off the porch towards him, so I am guessing he belongs to her.
“Callie, this is Wolfe; he is the club president and my guy.”
I nod in Wolfe’s direction, and he nods back, a grin on his face.
I turn my attention to Knox.
“I’m going to need you to leave a gun with me, because there is no way in hell I’m losing this bet.”
Knox looks to Wolfe, then back at me. “Nah, that wasn’t part of the deal.”
My mouth drops open.
“Don’t be such a douche,” Sable crosses her arms. “That’s just nasty.”
Knox doesn’t take his eyes off me. “City girl can handle a few nights, right?”
Oh.
I’m going to make him work so damn hard when I win this bet.
He can laugh now; we’ll see who is laughing when it’s all over.
I HAD NOT REALIZED what exhaustion was until I spent six hours on just one damn room in the house.
It was such a mess, it took all four of us that long just to get it looking somewhat livable again.
The girls left with promises to return, and I couldn’t help but lay on the porch swing, exhaling loudly, a cold beer in my hand.
I smell really bad, and I know I’m going to have to use the public showers up the road because I’m too scared to even look at the one inside.
One baby step at a time.
It’s dusk when I finally force myself up and decide to take a look at the paddocks before going for a shower.
I put my beer bottle down and head towards them.
There’s a gate leading me to them, nearly rusted shut, but I’m stubborn and unafraid of tetanus.
Beyond it is grass that is far too long for me to be trudging through it like this and a barn in the distance in a paddock that is a little tidier.
The wind carries a weirdly sweet smell I can’t place.
It makes me think of childhood and old melted popsicles.
I make my way to the nicer paddock to check out the barn and see an automatic filler keeping the water going, even though the trough needs a damn good clean.
I guess that’s how these cows are still kicking.
The grass is lush, but they’ve mowed it down pretty low.
I try to count them, but lose track at twelve and head to the barn.
I don’t even notice a large cow approaching until I’m just stepping inside the barn.
A shadow blocks the sunlight, and I turn to see it standing at the only exit, large and angry.
It doesn’t have horns, which makes me think it’s female.
It looks like it very likely might kill me if I take even a step wrong.
It snorts.
Oh shit.
“Ah, hello cow,” I mutter, smiling as if that will do anything. The cow stares. I stare back.
I try to take a step towards the exit, but it snorts at me in a way that tells me if I take one more step, it will charge.
I put my hands up, but it starts moving towards me, forcing me to move back.
The thing pins me in the corner so close I can feel the heat radiating off her with a faint barnyard musk undertone.
No matter how much I nudge and coax, she’s not budging, and the other cows seem to have formed a semi-circle, silently amused at my predicament.
Twenty minutes pass. I am now sitting on an upside-down feed bin, staring at my phone, with one bar of reception and only three percent battery.
I contemplate texting Sable or Mera, but deep down I know who I have to call.
When Knox picks up, he sounds like he’s underwater or in a wind tunnel, but that doesn’t stop me from blurting, “I’m trapped in a barn.
By a cow. I’m afraid if I move, she might actually kill me. ”
He laughs. He actually fucking laughs. “Guess you met Daisy.”
“How fucking original,” I mutter. “Well, Daisy isn’t moving, and I’m not sleeping here tonight. Can you help?”
“What do I get for it?”
I mutter a curse.
He chuckles.
“I’ll be there in ten.”
The wait is excruciating. The cow has started licking her own nose, and the sound is less cute than it is unsettling.
A bird flies in through a broken window, perches on a beam, and immediately shits on the ground next to me.
I stare at it for a while, and for the first time in a year, I wish I could light a cigarette.
Knox arrives at the barn with headlights blazing, his boots crunching on the gravel, and when he steps through the door with a half-smile and his leather jacket, I contemplate what kind of murder would be legal in this state.
“Well fuck me, she actually pinned you,” he says, stopping for a moment to enjoy the sight before him.
“She’s blocking the way out,” I say, as if it isn’t evident. “The devil herself.”
Knox takes a step closer to the cow and gives a low whistle, and for a second I think the cow will just walk away like it’s trained, but instead, it stands its ground, unmoved. “She doesn’t like new people,” he shrugs, as if that’s the best he’s got. “You gotta show her you’re boss.”
“Well, why don’t you show me how that works,” I challenge, glaring at him.
He steps up closer, rolling his broad shoulders, and looks the cow dead on. “Piss off, Daisy,” he orders, and then—swear to God—he slaps her on the backside.
She spins around, snorting at him, and he just crosses his arms, not taking his eyes off her. Then, as if she’s bored with the entire situation, she gives a big moo and just walks out, taking her posse with her. My mouth drops open. I can guarantee if I slapped that cow, I’d be dead.
Fuck you, Daisy.
I climb off the feed bin, remembering just how filthy I am right now.
“City girl, zero,” Knox murmurs, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “Farm, three.”
“Fuck you,” I grumble.
He walks me back through the paddock, arms crossed against his chest. He’s so huge next to me, an overwhelming presence, drawing my attention in a way that is deeply unfair, considering the circumstances.
“Don’t mean to be rude,” he finally says, when we reach the farmhouse. “But when was the last time you showered?”
I spin around, facing him. “I’m sorry that I’m not willing to go into a bathroom when, in the last twenty-four hours, I have been attacked by rats, a snake, and a fucking cow.”
He flashes his teeth, a grin that catches me off guard.
“You can shower at the club.”
I blink at him. “The gas station up the road is fine.”
“You seen the shower there?”
I shake my head.
“Unless you want a new disease not even a doctor can pronounce, you’ll come with me.”
“I feel like this is going to give you some sort of leverage in our bet,” I mutter, crossing my arms.
He shrugs, dropping the cigarette and crushing it out with his boot. “Suit yourself.”
He turns, and I can’t help it; I call out before he can reach his truck. “Fine, but only because I’m desperate.”
Without an answer, he opens the door and gets in, waiting for me.
Exhaling, I rush inside, get some clean clothes, and then get in his truck, too.
“City girl, zero,” he murmurs, throwing the truck into reverse. “Biker, one.”
I snort, staring out at the sun setting on the horizon.
We’ll see about that.