Chapter 1 #2
Pullin’ up the gravel driveway to my small, run-down two-bedroom trailer, I put the car in park and shut off the engine as a sigh falls from my lips.
Harlan doesn’t notice my obvious trepidation of being locked beyond those walls with him because he doesn’t make any comment.
He climbs out of the car and makes his way toward the trailer.
Each step smooth yet angry. His heavy boots pound against the rickety floorboards as he crosses the small porch, slinging the front door open to enter.
Suckin’ up every ounce of courage within me, I follow him inside.
“I’m goin’ to wash off this shit smell from bein’ in county all damn weekend. Fix some food. I’m starvin’,” he orders over his shoulder as he stomps down the hall, his wide shoulders nearly rubbing the walls on each side of him.
I pull the burner phone from my purse and check for any incoming messages, and I grit my teeth in anger when I realize there are no new notifications.
I stuff the phone into the bottom of my purse and pace the short length of the living room, the urgency to hear from Dylan gnawing away at me.
I need to know why the charges were dismissed.
I’m sure whatever news he has to relay I won’t be too happy to hear.
I don’t know how much longer I can stay in this house, in harm’s way. I shouldn’t have to live like this.
I set to work gettin’ pork chops and the fixins’ on the stove, then I tidy up the living room and toss a load of clothes in the washer.
I work efficiently, keeping my ears alert to Harlan’s movements.
I hear the shower shut off, then turn my attention back to the stove, knowing if the food isn’t ready when he sits down at the table, it may spark a rage I’m unprepared for.
I turn the burners to low heat then pull dishes from the cabinets, ready to plate the food.
“Smells good.” I flinch at Harlan’s rough timbre as he approaches me from behind.
His arms rest firmly on the counter, caging me against his solid chest, still damp from the shower.
His embrace is warm, comforting, and inviting …
a complete contradiction to the persona this man exudes.
I want to melt against him when I should fight to break free.
He slowly trails his nose from the shell of my ear to the curve of my neck, biting down and sucking on the sensitive flesh.
A small whimper escapes my lips, and if it weren’t for the tingling sensation running down to my toes and the urge to clench my thighs to calm the ache, I’d swear that whimper was elicited by fear.
I try to hide the quiver that rolls through my body, but it’s not lost on him.
“Hmmm, already shakin’?” His breath is warm against my cheek. “Is my kitten scared or excited?” He presses his hardening erection against my ass cheek. Strong, corded hands wrap around my jaw, and he turns my face to him. I catch the low haze of his dilated pupils—a lust-laced high.
“Harlan,” I whisper on a breathy moan that I regret immediately. My body is pleading for his touch, desperate for the merciless pleasure that only Harlan can provide. But my heart and soul are battling a war with my traitorous body to come to its senses for my own sanity.
“Please, don’t do this.” I push against him, trying to escape his grasp. He spins me around quickly, his lips a hairsbreadth away from mine—his familiar scent of diesel and tobacco invade my senses and make me weak in the knees at the most inopportune time.
I expect him to escalate my defiance, but I’m stunned silent when he pecks my lips gently and says, “I fuckin’ missed you, Justice.
” There’s an unfamiliar hint of desperation in his voice.
My lips part as my breathing hitches in my chest. He rests his forehead against mine, and it’s the most gentle and protective gesture coming from Harlan.
“I-I missed you too,” I lie. Urgent to put distance between us, I say, “I bet you’re starving. Sit down and eat.” He looms over me hesitantly as he tries to read the expression on my face. Seemingly satisfied, he nods and walks to the small dinette.
I plate his food then pull a beer from the fridge, setting both on the table in front of him.
“I’ll pack the leftovers away for your lunch bucket this week.
You’re working second shift?” I make small talk as I pull containers from the cabinet, but Harlan doesn’t reply.
I turn to look at him and register the scowl on his face, his brows pinched deep.
“Kitten, sit.” His tone is calm yet commanding.
“I really don’t have time. I missed my shift this morning so I could be at the arraignment. Luke is letting me work tonight so I don’t lose any pay or tips. Gotta pay the bills.” I shrug.
“Kitten, make a plate and sit and have a meal with your husband. ” There’s more bark behind his voice, so I fall in line as the dutiful wife, doing as he instructed.
I fix my plate then take a seat beside Harlan.
“Good girl.” He smiles then begins eating, the food disappearing quickly as he shovels large bites into his mouth.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand then pulls back a swig of beer.
“Shit’s gettin’ deep, Justice, and I’m concerned you’re gonna get caught in the crossfire. ”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Harlan?” I shake my head, feigning ignorance to the situation. Obviously, I’m privy to most of the details, although I’m still unsure of why the charges were dropped once again. Dylan promised the setup was solid.
He roughly scrubs his hand over his face, instantly annoyed. “Just keep your tongue in check, Justice. Don’t be sharin’ our business with any-damn-body.”
“By that you mean your business. I’d need to know what your business is before I could share it. I’m not involved in your criminal enterprise, Harlan, and I intend to keep it that way. I never wanted this life. It’s why I left you in Georgia, with no intentions of ever looking back.”
His fist connects with the top of the table and he yells, “FUCK, Justice Faith, will you just shut the fuck up and listen to what I’m tellin’ you!
” He clasps my wrist in his grip tightly, gauging an immediate fearful reaction from me.
His cool resolve flicks to angry and volatile in the matter of seconds.
“This ain’t like the previous arrests. Shit is gettin’ thick, and you gotta be prepared.
I don’t know who the hell the rat is; Silas is looking into some things.
But in the meantime, we’re trying to lay low and not draw attention to ourselves.
That much goes for you too.” His grip tightens, and he tugs me out of the chair and into his lap.
Roughly cupping my face, he tilts my chin back forcing me to lock eyes with him.
“Do you understand the fuckin’ instructions I’ve given you? ”
“Y-yes,” I stutter, shaking my head.
“Yes, what, Justice?” He squeezes my cheeks sharply.
It’s a trying feat to keep my tongue in my cheek and not spout off a snarky response.
The words “fuck off” taste bitter on my tongue, and I want nothing more than to spit them at him.
But I’ve been here before, and I know that smartin’ off will only earn me a black eye or a broken limb.
No need in asking for the abuse. So I dig deep within the pit of my stomach, shoving the wretched vomit to the side to find my strength to speak.
“Y-yes, Harlan. I-I und-understand y-your orders.”
A devious grin tips the corner of his mouth and his grip on my face lessens.
“Good girl, kitten.” He pushes me up to my feet, and I waste no time putting one foot in front of the other to make my escape.
His hand connects with the swell of my ass and he snarks, “Now get your ass to work and make me some honest money.”
Without looking back, I do as I’m told. Honest money … that’s rich comin’ from Harlan fuckin’ Daughtry.