Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
ALLIE
“Has your truck ever held this many books before?” I chuckle, watching Austin carefully shift tool bags around in the back of his extended cab to make room for four stuffed bags.
He removes his Stetson, stabbing thick fingers into his dark waves. “Don’t think so.”
“Thank you again,” I whisper, our eyes meeting. Time stops. The air thickens, crackling with electricity and possibility.
“You know,” I say lightly, “if you ever need a radio spot or a promo for the ranch… I could help.”
He frowns. “You don’t owe me anything.”
I smile. “I know. I just want to.”
That’s when my cell phone rings.
Abrasive.
I jump, corners of my mouth drooping. My hands shake as I stare at the screen.
“I have to take this,” I say, ruing how my voice cracks and my mouth goes instantly dry.
Austin nods, jaw tightening.
I brace as I hold the phone to my ear. “Trev—”
“You fucking bitch. Where the hell are you?”
My stomach twists, nausea washing over me. “Downstairs in the resort parking lot.”
“Don’t move.”
The call ends.
I can’t look at the big cowboy next to me, shoulders falling, heart racing. “He’s coming out here to talk. I should take my bags and go.” My words come out too fast, toppling over each other. If Trevor sees him here, sees us together…
Austin’s face storms.
“Seriously.” I hate how my voice shakes. “You staying will only make things worse.” The words fall hollow between us, a lie.
Because I don’t know the truth anymore.
I scramble out of the truck, breathing faster.
The door slams behind Austin. “If you want me to leave, I will. But I need to know—do you want that, or are you afraid?”
My gaze meets his. “Fear,” I admit like the word costs me something.
“Oh, this is fucking rich!” A voice rages. My flesh trembles as I turn, bracing myself. “You’re with him?”
Trevor snarls, face burgundy, eyes wild. Not drunk. Erratically sober.
Austin steps forward, face stony. Not standing between us but at my side like a bulwark.
“Who I’m with doesn’t concern you anymore,” I clip, shocked by the force of my own words.
Trevor steps back, as if I punched him myself. “Oh, doesn’t it now, you fucking whore!”
A warning growl rumbles from Austin’s chest, low and menacing. Not uncontrolled and frantic, but quiet in that way that inspires dread.
Trevor ignores him, face raging. “You always do this, Allison.”
“Do what?”
“Overreact. For God’s sake, this has been the worst vacation of my life, half of it spent behind bars. You’re my girlfriend, and you’re going to come with me. Now.”
“No.” The word lands like a bomb. Then, a flicker of alarm as his eyes dart to Austin.
“No?” He says it like he doesn’t believe it, voice going high and frantic. And that’s when I see him for what he is.
Not someone to be respected or followed. But a man out of control in every way. Unrestrained. Desperate. Powerless.
It locks into place. Despite reprisals. Despite threats and physical intimidation, he can’t control me … unless I let him.
“We’re done,” I say in a voice too calm, straightening my spine.
“Done?” He stammers, gaze casting back and forth between Austin and me. Trevor’s hands ball at his sides, face steaming.
Austin steps closer. “You heard the lady.” No threat, just the kind of resolve that comes from a man who knows his power.
“This,” Trevor spits. “This is ridiculous.”
“No, it’s overdue,” I counter, raising my chin. “You don’t get to hurt me anymore.”
“Fuck.” His voice cracks, eyes two slants. Abruptly, he turns trudging away, muttering things darkly under his breath.
He stumbles on a pothole, and his head bobs up, eyes darting. Curious faces stare back at him.
“What are you staring at?” he screams, waving his arms.
Embarrassing. I look away.
My legs shake, knees about to buckle. My breath is frozen in my chest.
I won’t survive this—I think.
Four words that I’ve oriented my whole existence around.
But are they true?
Austin’s forehead creases. “You okay?”
Still breathing. Heart beating. Stronger than I ever thought I would feel again.
I exhale slowly, waiting for it to hit. The pain. The sorrow. The disorientation.
Instead, a quiet resolve blossoms inside.
I meet Austin’s gaze. “Better than okay.”
Crack!
My eyes scan the parking lot to an open window on the second floor. Beneath it, a purple suitcase lies sprawled with a busted zipper and fabric exploding from it.
“Take that!” Trevor screams. Too-high-pitched. Too damn weak. “And that!” Another overnight bag flops to the ground with a thud.
“Those,” I say matter-of-fact. “Would be mine.”
“You serious?” Austin simmers. “Everything in me wants to put him on the ground.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You let me be strong. You let me stand up for myself. Thank you.”
His face is grave, anger flaring behind his eyes. He lets out a long breath, clenching and unclenching his bruised fist. “You’re stronger than you know, Allie.”
Austin helps me into the cab. Then, we drive over to my luggage. I watch as he wraps it up quietly, making room for it in the cab. He won’t let me help. Says I should stay inside. Stay warm.
My stomach sours as the gravity of everything hits me. Then, my hands animate, digging into my purse, finding Trevor’s keys and placing them on the center console between us. I should take them inside, risk another confrontation. Instead, I leave them where they sit.
Back in the truck, Austin grips the steering wheel too tight, knuckles white. He flips through the stations, unable to find the right song. Turns it off, instead.
Silence.
I open my mouth to mention the keys when the phone buzzes again. Text message spewing vitriol, calling me too many names to count.
Austin watches as I read. “Want me to handle things?” he asks. Not enraged or unhinged, but with quiet, precise control.
“Done,” I answer, blocking Trevor’s phone number. A weight lifts. One I didn’t even know I was carrying. “I just wish he hadn’t ruined… our date.” The words come out small.
When we pull into the parking lot of the Sheriff’s Department, I freeze. Austin parks, and my shoulders climb to my ears.
The cowboy grabs the keys on the console, the first time he’s acknowledged their presence. “Be right back.”
He locks the truck behind him, disappearing inside.
I watch the door, waiting. Noticing how he parked near the entrance, so he can check on me through the window. How he kept the engine running to ensure my warmth. How he makes me feel protected even when he’s somewhere else.
When he returns, I don’t have to ask.
He keeps it short and sweet. “Dropped the keys with Mack. Gave a statement about the luggage. You won’t be needing to deal with him again.”
I’d spent years believing closure had to hurt. Turns out it can be quiet.
“Thank you,” I say, too soft.
The big man exhales, jaw muscle working. “Can I take you somewhere?”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. You don’t have to do anything else for me…”
“One more spot. Please.”
My eyes meet his for an instant before he stares at the road again.
It’s not like I have anywhere else to go anyway.
“Okay.”
I expect my voice to come out pathetic and small.
Instead, it holds.
Steady.
Quiet.
Like it finally belongs to me.