Chapter 32
Trey
Iclimb back in my truck at the auto parts store after picking up a filter and some oil so I can change it before I leave. Throwing my truck in drive, I pull around to the back side of the store so I can hit the side street that’s a straight shot to the gym.
As soon as I round the corner, I see Daryl and a young woman.
She can’t be more than twenty, but—with ratty brown hair, hollow cheeks, and sunken eyes—she resembles a corpse more than a young woman.
Daryl’s in jeans and a T-shirt with an unbuttoned flannel over it.
I slow down but don’t stop as I watch Daryl take some cash from the woman, count it quickly, then hand her what I can only assume are drugs.
What a piece of work, this woman is sending herself to an early grave, and this man is helping her do it, one hit at a time.
It’s disgusting. Just the sight of him reminds me how he treats his own flesh and blood.
Jessie clearly doesn’t want anything to do with him.
She’s terrified of him, that much I’ve gathered.
Yet, I see his name pop up on her phone, and he’s shown up at her house.
Before I fully think it through, I’m pulling over and getting out. The woman takes off, her unsteady gait sending a wave of sadness through me. She needs help, not a supplier. He’s ruining her life.
“Hey,” I call out to Daryl, getting his attention.
“Well, if it isn’t the famous bull rider. What brings you to this side of town?” His body language is relaxed; he doesn’t care that I saw that exchange. He’s trying to chat me up like we’re old friends.
“I’d ask you the same, but I saw you out here ruining lives.”
“Who me? I wouldn’t do that; I’m an upstanding citizen. Just trying to keep food on the table.”
“Don’t bullshit me. I know exactly who you are and what you do.” His nonchalant attitude is pissing me off. He’s acting like we’re old friends.
A twisted smile crosses his face. “How is my daughter? I hear you’ve been taking good care of her. I’ve been meaning to stop by and check in.”
“Well, don’t. You need to leave Jessie alone. Don’t stop by, call her, or text her. Leave her alone.”
He starts to laugh, until his smoker’s cough takes over. His face shifts when he finishes, a cruel mask replacing the man before me. “Who the fuck do you think you are, son?”
“The man telling you to le—”
He catches me off guard, moving quicker than I expected he could. He grabs me by the collar and throws me up against the side of the store.
The concrete wall digs into my back as he snarls. “Boy, you better get back in that truck and remember whose town you’re in or you might regret it. My daughter is more fragile than you think.”
Did he just threaten Jessie? He might’ve caught me off guard, but I’m younger and far stronger than he is.
I grab his free arm, pushing off the wall and flipping us.
With my forearm pressed to his throat, I push until he wheezes and his yellowed eyes go wide.
I back off so he can breathe. I needed to show him I’m the one in control here.
“If you ever lay so much as a finger on her, the next time we meet, I won’t be this nice. This is your one and only warning.” I shove off of him and step back toward my truck.
He takes a step toward me.
Just then, a car rounds the corner of the building, stopping behind my parked truck that blocks its path. Daryl takes off and I wave at the car before jumping in my truck. I calm my breathing down as what just happened fully hits me.
Jessie’s father is a dangerous drug dealer, and he threatened me by using her. She told me she came from a bad family, but I never imagined this level of danger. It’s clear she’s insecure about her family other than Gran. Does Gran know the kind of person her father is? Do Cody and Carson?
Is he threatening Jessie or using her in some way? I know she’s in contact with him and scared of him. If so, why hasn’t she told anyone?
My head spins as I drive to the gym and work out. I’m tempted to head to the hospital just to check on Jessie, but I settle for a text instead.
Trey
I’m sorry about last night. Make it up to you with homemade crunch wrap supremes?
Jessie
I like crunch wrap supremes.
I feel better at her immediate response.
She must be on break and safe. I finish at the gym before stopping at the store to buy the supplies for crunch wraps.
I reflect on our conversations about her family and the day her father stopped by.
She was adamant I stay out of it. “Don’t confront him,” she’d said—and I just did exactly what she told me not to.
Did she tell me that because she knew there would be consequences? Fuck. I should’ve listened to her, but I didn’t understand how dangerous he was. Why didn’t she tell me? I still don’t fully understand what’s going on and what his role is in her life.
Jessie gets home, and we fall into our normal routine, avoiding discussing last night’s argument. I’m almost done cooking when she sits down at the table. I need to tell her about what happened—she needs to know.
“Today fucking sucked,” Jessie says. “A million things went wrong, and now I’m crabby.” She looks exhausted. Did she even sleep last night?
Later. She needs to know, just later. When she’s well rested and not fresh off a twelve-hour shift. Maybe I’ll throw in a couple of orgasms in to butter her up—couldn’t hurt. Besides, she’s home and I’m here, so she’s safe. She isn’t done working for the week, but I can wait until her day off.
I startle awake.
Jessie’s wrapped in my arms.
What the fuck was that?
I hear it again—shattering glass.
Jessie stirs. “What—”
CLASH.
The sharp sound cuts her off. It’s coming from outside.
I jump out of bed and open the nightstand drawer.
“What are you doing?” Jessie hisses when she sees me pull my handgun from its case in the drawer.
“Stay here.” I throw on gym shorts and head for the back door to a chorus of shattering glass. Creeping out the back door, I’m greeted by momentary silence. I scan the back yard before quietly and slowly rounding the corner of the house. What could someone have been breaking glass on—
My truck.
Every window on my truck is busted and the windshield is shattered. The sound stopped because there was nothing left to break. I’m careful as I round the truck in case someone is still here, but I don’t see any sign of them.
“Trey,” I hear Jessie whisper from the corner of the house.
“I told you to stay inside.” I walk back toward her, ushering her back inside in case the perpetrator comes back.
“Your truck,” she chokes and covers her mouth with her palm. She looks horrified.
“It’s okay. Go inside. I’ll call the police.”
“The police?” Her eyes flare in panic. “Can’t you just turn it into your insurance?”
“I have to call the police, Jessie. Someone did this, and I’ll need a police report for insurance. Come on, let’s go inside and get dressed.” I can tell involving law enforcement is making her uncomfortable, but I have to—there is a strong chance Daryl did this.
It’s 3:30 a.m. when the two Cottonwood Valley deputies finish their review of the vehicle and its damage and come inside to complete their report.
Jessie has stayed inside the entire time they’ve been here.
They ask me basic questions, gather my information and some of Jessie’s because she’s the homeowner and was also present.
I can tell she’s trying to be calm, but she’s uneasy at their presence in her home.
I wanted to smack the one who gave her a double take when she gave her full name. They know exactly who she is.
“Mr. Bennett, can you think of anyone who would target you specifically? We can’t rule out random vandalism, but if there is someone in your life who you think might have a grudge against you, a motivation is a great place to start.”
Well, here goes nothing.
I knew I’d have to tell them. After our run-in yesterday, I’d bet money it was Daryl. I glance at Jessie, regretting not telling her when I had the chance.
“Actually, yeah, there is someone you’ll want to question.”
Jessie’s head jerks in surprise.
“Daryl Hawkins.”
The room goes silent. I see Jessie’s chest start rising and falling in heavy breaths.
“Okay. Describe your relationship with Mr. Hawkins.”
“Daryl is Jessie’s father, and we had a run-in of sorts yesterday.”
“What?” Jessie yells, standing from the table.
Fuck.
I stand, too. “I was going to tell you—”
“Why would you do that? I told you to fucking drop it. Why can’t you just—” She stops, remembering we have an audience. Turning on her heel, she walks away, slamming the bedroom door behind her.
I rub the back of my neck. That went about as horrible as I expected.
The officers ask me to detail my conversation with Daryl, and I do, telling them everything.
When they ask about him and Jessie, I stop because I don’t know what to tell them.
She’s afraid of him, and he harasses her, but that isn’t anything concrete.
I don’t know more because Jessie doesn’t tell me anything when it comes to her father.
Once they leave, I tape plastic to the truck windows, giving Jessie more time to cool off. My heart sinks when I find her bedroom door locked. I rest my head against it. “Baby, please let me in. I’m sorry. Just talk to me.”
Silence is the only response. I wait several minutes, hoping to hear a response or for the door to creak open. She has work in the morning, so on the hope she’s asleep and knowing we can talk tomorrow, I go to sleep alone—wishing I could do the last twenty-four hours over again.