41. Chapter 41
Chapter forty-one
Laiken
I swipe a rag over the counter, finishing the last bit of cleaning. Mom should be stocked and ready to go when she gets home. I know she’ll be exhausted and have to be back to work the following day.
I sneak a glance at Trace, who’s playing on the front porch, but I do a double take when I spot headlights coming down the road. A familiar Ford is racing down the street.
I quickly move to the door and swing open the screen. “Trace, I need you to come inside, please.”
He must notice my tone because he doesn’t argue. I usher him inside and lock the door behind me.
“What’s wrong?” He presses. “I thought you said I could play on the porch? I had the light on.”
Sweet boy.
“Sorry, bud, I need you inside.” I give him a squeeze.
Tires screech, the truck coming to a jolting halt in the driveway. Trace frowns, but I guide him away from the entryway.
“Laiken!” My name is bellowed from the yard, that same angry bass in his voice.
He’s drunk. Or worse.
Dread washes over me, but I shove it away. My main goal is protecting Trace. Always.
A fist pounds on the front door, Rhodes’s voice vibrating the old house. “I know you’re in there!”
Trace glances at the door, then back at me.
“Why don’t you go up to Nana’s room and you can watch the bull riders on my phone.”
I hand him the device, hoping it will keep him busy and his attention off the train wreck outside.
“Okay.” He eyes me but bounds up the staircase.
When he’s out of sight, I call out, “Lock the door!”
I turn for the front of the house, waiting until I hear the click.
Blowing out a breath, I reach for the handle and yank open the door. My only priority is to keep him from escalating. To keep him from making this worse for Trace. I could have called the police, but given the sheriff here is as crooked as they come, it’s never done any good.
“That’s enough,” I hiss, stepping out onto the porch. I close the door behind me. “What do you want? My lawyer has already contacted yours and I’ve agreed to the paternity test.”
“I’m not here about a fucking test,” he spits, his breath reeking of alcohol. “I’m here to take my family back.”
His eyes are wild, the gold flecks holding a dangerous glint.
“Rhodes, we talked about this,” I say calmly.
He ignores me, crowding my space. “I’m here to get what’s mine. To get what belongs to me.” He taps his chest. “Not to him.”
I frown. “Who?”
“That piece of shit you’re spreading your legs for!” He swipes a hand over his mouth, staggering on his feet. “Yeah, I’m talking about your golden boy.”
He’s certifiably insane. “You need to leave.”
He tries to step past me, but I block his path. “Did you hear me? Leave.”
He chuckles, dismissing me like the manipulator he is. “How do you think this will look to the public? I get results showing I’m his father and his mother is keeping him from me. Won’t paint you in a good light.”
I stand firm. “You want to talk to him? We go through the lawyers.”
He scoffs. “I don’t have time for this shit. Move.”
“No.”
He steps to me, his eyes flaring with rage. “Move or I’ll—”
“Or you’ll what?” I hiss. “Drug me?”
His face flickers. It’s only a second that surprise flashes. Brief, but enough for me to know the truth.
“Trace!” he bellows over my head.
I move instantly, shifting back to block the stairs to the door.
“I will call the law, Rhodes. This is your last warning.”
I regret giving Trace my phone in this moment. He’s angrier than usual. He’s restless. Fearless. I feel helpless.
He laughs, manic and rough. “What are you going to do, huh?” He reaches out quickly, snatching me by the bicep. “You know, you’re more work than you’re worth.”
My eyes widen as he jerks me toward him.
“But you want to know how fucking good it felt to take something of his?”
“What?” I gasp.
“Took some extra work on my part. You weren’t very cooperative. I just gave you a little something to relax you.” He brings his free hand up to grip my other arm. “Don’t act like you didn’t love it.”
“Fuck you.” The words I spit are laced with raw anger. “You drugged me. You—”
“Please,” he scoffs. “You wanted it.” He jerks me again. “And who would believe a whore like you anyway?” A wave of courage washes over me, and I jam my knee forward, connecting it with his balls.
“Bitch!” he roars as he stumbles on his feet.
I dart up the steps, my fingers reaching for the door when a hand threads through my hair from behind me.
“Funny that he thinks he’s the golden boy,” Rhodes sneers against my ear. “But he has no idea how much we have in common.” He twists my hair tighter. “Those secrets run deep.”
Nausea hits. “What are you talking about?” I croak out.
His murky breath fans across my skin. I barely conceal the urge to gag.
“Take a good look at him the next time he’s on top of you.” He yanks my head back, my neck craning as he hovers over my shoulder. “Remind you of anyone?”
My fingers reach back to grip his wrist. “What are you saying?”
He staggers again, almost dropping us to the floor.
I use the momentum to jam my elbow into the side of his ribs.
Rhodes yells something incoherent, but I can’t make out the words.
One second he’s behind me, then the next, he’s gone.
When I regain my footing and turn to the yard, Rhodes is still there, but he’s on the ground. And Parker is on top of him.