Chapter Sixteen
Jo
I haven’t had very many instances of social peer pressure in my life.
Mostly because I didn’t hang out with enough of my peers to be persuaded into doing anything.
So when we were only one hour into the bonfire and heard tires peeling out along the west fences, my feet moved on autopilot when someone told me to climb in the work truck.
Everyone was moving, going in that direction, and I followed.
There was none of my normal rational thought or careful planning.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was facing Curtis in the backseat, and he was telling me to put my seat belt on with a worried look on his face.
Frank took off across the property, and I was holding on for dear life.
It was like the worst roller coaster I could ever imagine.
It was too dark to see out the windows, and without any anticipation of where we were going or what Frank had planned, I was getting bashed and banged against the back wall of the cab and the back of the driver’s seat.
Neither of which had padding for a blow.
Curtis was yelling at Frank to slow down, Ryker was echoing his pleading, but with more ad-libbed cursing and panic.
I couldn’t do anything but brace myself for the next impact.
All I could gather was that they saw a truck on the other side of the fence, and it took off once it saw us.
Frank wanted to chase after it, but Arizona was driving the other truck and cut him off.
I couldn’t hear exactly what he said, but he called him a few choice words that set Frank off.
He slammed on the accelerator and we took off again.
A scream ripped from my throat as my head slammed against the side window and bounced, smashing my cheek against the back wall.
Curtis unbuckled his seat belt and bounced as Frank hit a bump, crashing into the center console before leaning over me to shield my head from more damage.
“Dammit, Frank. STOP THE TRUCK!”
“FINE!” He slams on the brakes, and it feels like the entire truck is going to explode into pieces as he crashes to a stop.
It’s too silent as Ryker frantically claws his seat belt off and leaps from his seat.
That’s when I hear a very distinct growl that makes me want to curl into my seat further and cry.
He’s mad.
Big mad.
“I’m sorry, boss. I’m sorry. We tried to get him to slow down.” Curtis’s voice is hollow in my ears as he gets further away from me.
I can’t look.
I can’t look.
I have to.
My eyelids crack open one at a time, but I don’t have to search for what I’m looking for at all.
Lochlan is standing directly in my line of sight, staring at me through the passenger side door.
His eyes are wide with fury, but his jaw is set, locked so tightly I can see the muscles working the side of his face.
He lunges suddenly, his frame blocking all the light from the moon as he grabs Frank by his shirt and forcefully drags him out of the driver’s seat.
As soon as he’s through the passenger door, he’s launched into the dirt.
He hardly has a moment to cry out in pain when Lochlan grabs him by the back of the neck like a rag doll and throws him against the porch steps as if he weighs nothing, brutally knocking the wind out of him.
Then he’s on him.
His fist connects with Frank’s cheek, bouncing his head against the wooden boards.
The impact of the second punch makes his neck snap to the side with a sickening crunch.
I brace myself for the third blow and the damage it will inevitably cause, but it never comes.
His forearm drives into his chest, pinning him down as the other hand grips his throat.
“You’re done. You’re fucking done. I should kill you,” his voice thunders, rattling my bones.
He is going to kill him.
Even with how dark it is, I can see the redness of Frank’s face turning purple.
His eyes are bulging with exertion to breathe, and the fear that he might not be able to again.
He’s going to kill him.
And no one is doing anything.
Everyone is watching on like spectators while I’m frantically searching for the answer to this problem.
No one is reacting at all until my eyes catch Hayes’s.
“Loch.” His voice calls out after he tears his gaze from mine.
“LOCH!” He barks louder, finally drawing the angry man’s attention.
“That’s enough.”
Lochlan glares at him as they have a silent standoff, a conversation among two people who have known each other for a decade, but Lochlan still doesn’t loosen his grip.
Frank’s eyes flutter, and my hand covers my mouth, but a squeak escapes.
“You’re scaring her,” Hayes says quietly, but I read it on his lips and watch as Lochlan’s furious attention latches onto me, still in the truck.
His wild eyes glare at me as if I’m the next victim before loosening his grip on Frank and pushing himself up and off of him.
When he straightens to his full height, it’s like he’s standing taller and wider, filled with adrenaline.
His hands flex at his sides, his muscles twitching as if he’s still contemplating homicide, and I can’t breathe.
“Get his shit, take him to the closest rat infested motel, he’s not welcome here anymore. I’ll deal with the rest of you tomorrow,” his deep voice instructs calmly.
The shift is so sudden, I’m sure I imagined it, but everyone starts moving around him, silently obeying his command.
No one is surprised at all by tonight’s turn of events.
Within 60 seconds, Frank is moved from the steps, and everyone has disappeared.
Aside from Lochlan.
His steps are heavy as he approaches the truck, not looking at me until he braces himself between the door frame and the back of the passenger seat, his midnight eyes roaming over me.
There isn’t a trace of anger in them, but I’m still afraid to speak.
“Are you okay?”
I don’t realize how bad I’m shaking until I try to shrug.
My whole body is shivering, but I know I’m not cold .
“Are you afraid of me, Jo?” He asks the question he’s asked once before, but not after seeing something like this.
“No,” I force through my chattering teeth.
My fingers feel thick as I try to release the seat belt from my waist, not adept enough to push the button and pull simultaneously.
I press and pull, press then pull, not quite getting it each time until his calloused hand covers mine, blanketing my fingers in warmth.
“Let me.” He unbuckles it easily, letting the belt fall to either side of me.
“Come on.” His hand retreats, but I snatch it before it gets away, needing to hold on to his steadying force.
He studies my two hands grasping his before pulling me from my seat, and balancing me as my feet touch the ground.
“You’re hurt,” I murmur as the moon illuminates the blood on his knuckles.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry, Lochlan. I don’t know why I got in the truck, I shouldn’t have,” my voice shakes as I fight to keep my tears at bay.
I feel so stupid.
“Jo…” He says my name softly, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him directly.
My teeth chatter as I stare at him, waiting for my punishment.
Instead, his right hand raises hesitantly and cradles the side of my head tenderly.
My hair’s thick and I can hardly feel him, but I want to.
I lean into his palm, and his eyes flare.
His mouth parts as if to say something, but when his hand shifts like he might touch my cheek, I hiss in pain.
“Ouch.”
“Dammit. Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”
“I didn’t realize I was.” I touch the spot on my jaw just below my ear and cringe.
The skin’s rubbed raw from hitting the inside of the cab.
“I’ll fucking kill all of them.” He pulls away to storm down to the bunkhouse, but I interlock my fingers in his, forcing him to stop and look at me.
“It’s not their fault. I got in the truck willingly. Curtis and Ryker just didn’t want me to go alone. Curtis tried to shield me the best he could. It was my fault for going to the fire in the first place. I should have listened to you.”
“Yes, you should have.”
“I’ll listen next time, I’m sorry.” I drop his hand, wrapping my arms around my torso and fleeing to the guesthouse.
I don’t expect him to follow me, but when I turn to close the door, he’s still watching me, and a part of me wishes I didn’t have to be alone tonight.
* * *
I slip on my black stilettos, struggling to clasp them because I can’t bend properly.
This dress is fitted from my chest to my thighs with a boning that makes it hard to breathe when I sit down, but it does wonders to enhance an hourglass figure.
The deep maroon color brings out the brown in my eyes, much to my mother’s dismay.
That’s why I picked it.
We have a big event tonight.
The richest companies from all over the state will be there, which means their foundations will be looking for ways to spend money.
Not because they’re feeling charitable, but because they want the tax write-offs.
If all goes well, I’ll get closer to our goal fund, and Lochlan will be able to get the security system he needs.
He’s already started spending some of the money on better fencing, but the bulk of it will need to go toward the camera system.
Once I have that accomplished, I might feel worthy of something.
Unfortunately, the thought of completing the goal and not being needed here anymore leaves me feeling empty.
Jo: Are you almost ready?
Jo: Do you have a big mirror?
Lochlan: Give me five minutes.
We haven’t spoken since the other night.
Other than floating around each other, and a few surface-level words exchanged.
There have been subtle attempts to check on the scrape under my ear, but other than that, we’ve both pretended nothing happened.
Lochlan: Ready.
As soon as I walk into his house, I see a standing full-length mirror in the living room that wasn’t there before.
Its intricate oak frame matches most of the other furniture, but this is definitely not something I’ve seen here.
“Did you carry that down the steps?”
“Yes.” He’s wearing dark jeans and the same black shirt as last time.
“I could have gone up.” He always said the upstairs was off limits but carrying a heavy ass mirror down here seems a bit dramatic.
“Are you almost ready?” He asks, ignoring my statement.
“I just need my dress zipped the rest of the way.” I back towards him and flip my hair over my shoulder to expose my zipper, then wait .
And, wait.
“Lochlan? Can you zip my dress?”
He doesn’t respond, but I feel a tug on my zipper.
He pulls the tab as far as it will go, then hesitates.
“Clasp the piece at the very top, and then it should zip the rest of the way,” I explain breathlessly after feeling the faintest touch of his fingers against my spine.
I don’t think I’ve ever had a man do this, but I don’t have many options.
Unless we stop at the carryout at the bottom of the mountain, I won’t see another woman until we get to the event.
The smell of his shaving cream lingers in the air and fills my senses.
Even though he’s behind me, I feel him all around me.
My eyes find his furrowed brow of concentration in the mirror’s reflection as he pulls the zipper to the clasp.
He holds it there briefly, squeezing his eyes shut before taking a step back and walking out the front door without another word.