9. Huxley
HUXLEY
W here is she? What did I do wrong? Is she hurt? God, is she lying somewhere on the mountain, unconscious?
A snarl rips through my chest at the thought of Jordan being in danger or hurt in any way.
I woke up fifteen minutes ago, shocked, hurt, and confused as hell when my woman wasn’t in bed with me. The second I sat up and took in my surroundings, I knew she was gone. I couldn’t feel her warmth or smell her sweet, citrusy scent.
The question is, where the hell did she go? And why?
I continue pacing the now well-worn path on the small porch in front of my cabin, going over every moment of last night in my mind.
Was there something I said? Something I did?
I’d never forgive myself if I hurt her or made her uncomfortable.
Jesus, my heart lurches in my chest, the pain causing me to rub the heel of my hand over the spot to try to soothe the ache there.
I hear the familiar sound of the work truck heading up the hill, then see a cloud of dust break through the tree line before the vehicle comes into view. Squinting to see who it is, I’m surprised to see Cassian. He hardly ever leaves the compound, and certainly not on his own.
Heading in that direction, I wave Cassian down, needing to know what the hell is going on this morning. How did I go from the most blissful, perfect night to this nightmare?
“Yo, Cass!” I call out, sprinting toward my friend.
He comes to an abrupt halt, probably trying not to run me over since I’m being an idiot right now. I can’t help it. The love of my life is hanging in the balance.
“Huxley, what the hell were you think–”
“Where is she? Did you see her?” I ramble, cutting him off.
Cassian sighs heavily as he gets out of the truck. The man crosses his arms over his chest in his signature stance. He nods once, making me growl in frustration.
“Words, Cass. I need your words. Is she okay? Did she say why she left? I’m losing my goddamn mind over here, man.”
“Hey, what’s all the yelling about?” Wilder calls out from the front porch of his cabin. He makes his way over to us while I glare at Cassian. I know it’s not his fault, but it sure as hell feels like it right now.
“I gave her a ride down the mountain. Dropped her off at the hardware store, as per her request.” That’s all he says. Straight facts, nothing else.
“Who did you drop off?” Wilder asks once he’s next to us.
“My Jordan,” I say defensively.
Wilder’s eyes widen in surprise, but he decides not to ask about it. Wise man.
“Look, she asked for a ride down the mountain, and I wasn’t going to keep her trapped here,” Cassian says.
My shoulders drop, and I wipe a hand down my face, trying to fit all the pieces together.
“You did the right thing,” I tell my friend, as hard as that is to admit.
“After the way her father has controlled her and kept tabs on her, I wouldn’t want Jordan to feel like she was stuck up here without a way out. ”
Cassian nods in acknowledgment, which I know means he understands.
“Did she say anything about why she had to leave?” Wilder asks, getting us back on track.
“She kept saying she needed to take care of a few things.”
I furrow my brow and run my fingers through my short hair, swallowing past the painful lump stuck in the back of my throat. I’m still missing something…
“For what it’s worth, she didn’t seem upset or anxious about anything that happened here,” Cassian adds.
I nod, wanting him to continue.
“She seemed more anxious about whatever she needed to take care of. I asked if she was okay as she was getting out of the car, and she simply said, ‘I will be.’”
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “I know what she’s doing. Her father must have somehow found out she was here, or maybe–”
Wilder claps a hand on my shoulder, stopping me mid-spiral. He’s always been good at that. “We can get the full story from Jordan after you go get her and make sure she’s safe. That’s the priority.”
“Right,” I say, nodding along with him.
Wilder squeezes my shoulder and steps while Cassian tosses me the keys to one of the main trucks we share.
“Go get your girl,” Cassian says, a hint of a grin on his lips. Can’t say I’ve seen that in over a decade. Maybe his heart isn’t made of stone after all.
“Aria will want a double date soon!” Wilder calls out as I hop in the truck.
I don’t respond to either of them before peeling out and rushing down the mountain. I’m all adrenaline right now, which is something I haven’t felt since retiring from the Rangers. I use all my energy to focus on my target: Jordan’s house.
I reach Rock Bottom in less than half the time it usually takes to get there. It’s still not fast enough, in my opinion.
Pulling into the familiar parking lot of Gregg’s Hardware, I remember Jordan telling me she lives in the house next door.
Taking a deep breath, I roll out my shoulders and try to formulate a plan.
Without knowing any specifics, I’m basically going in blind.
Then again, I’m sure whoever is in there won’t be expecting me, so I still have the element of surprise on my side.
Without overthinking it, I hop out of the truck and walk up to the front door of the small ranch-style house, proverbial guns blazing. I bang on the door, rattling the damn thing on its hinges.
“Who the fuck…” I hear from inside as someone shuffles around.
I bang on the door again, ready to kick it down if he doesn’t open it in the next ten seconds.
“Okay! Jesus, I heard you.”
The door flies open, and the man I recognize from the hardware store as Jordan’s dad stands there, staring up at me.
His mottled red face, labored breathing, and sweaty forehead indicate this rather robust man has been exerting himself recently.
That’s a red flag, especially since I don’t see or hear Jordan anywhere.
I push past him, walking into the house and looking around for my woman.
“Excuse me, who the hell do you think you are to barge in here and–”
I turn and clock this motherfucker in the face. Was it impulsive and not the wisest move? Maybe. Did it feel incredible? Fuck yeah, it did.
“Fuck!” he bellows, covering his nose and mouth with his hands as blood pours down his face. “Assault! Assault!” he gurgles through the pain and blood.
“Jordan!” I yell as I step over Gregg’s crumpled-up body. “Jordan, talk to me, baby. Where are you?”
“Huxley?” comes the sweetest sound in the entire fucking world.
“I’m coming,” I assure her, tearing down the hall and stopping in front of a door with a keypad lock on the outside and a bar wedged in the door frame to ensure it won’t open. Fucking hell, he locked her in her room?
I rip the bar from the frame, then back up slightly to give myself some room.
“Stand back from the door, okay, Jordan? I’m going to kick it in.”
“Okay,” comes her muffled response. God, it’s killing me, but I’m so close. I’ll have her in my arms soon.
I count down in my head and launch myself forward, stomp-kicking the door with enough force to break it into splinters.
“Jordan,” I say, my voice ragged as I stumble toward her. I notice an open wound on the side of her forehead, along with a bright red spot on her cheek that’s sure to form a bruise later. “Jordan,” I repeat, though it’s barely a whisper.
She collapses in my arms, and I draw her close, holding my sweet, broken angel while she sobs it all out.
I have a million questions, but all that matters right now is getting my precious girl home.
I notice her clothes appear to be ripped, and is that one of my shirts hanging off one shoulder and arm?
A deep well of rage boils up from the pit of my stomach as the scene starts to come together in my mind’s eye.
She came home to confront her father, and he lost his shit when he saw her in my shirt.
I can’t let my anger show right now, however.
I need to get Jordan out of here, and we’ll discuss the details later.
I kiss the top of Jordan’s head, whispering that she’s safe and I won’t let him touch her ever again. She shivers when I step away from her, and I grab a blanket off her bed, wrapping it around her shoulders.
“Ready to go home, love?” I ask her, holding out my hand.
“With you? Always.”
She places her much smaller hand in mine, and I gently pull her toward me, pressing my lips to her temple. “Wrap your arms around my neck, okay? And close your eyes.”
She does as I say, and I scoop her up in my arms, heading back out to the living room and toward the front door.
Before I can step outside, I hear Gregg waddling up behind me. “Now wait a goddamn minute. Where the hell are you taking my daughter?” His voice is nasally, thanks to the broken nose I undoubtedly gave him earlier.
I turn, looking the motherfucker straight in the eye, silently conveying every vile thing I want to do to him for laying hands on his daughter. His face grows pale, and he stumbles backward, landing on his ass. Good riddance. What a waste of space.
Jordan clings to me, her lips grazing my neck. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her tears wetting my skin.
“Let’s get you home, sweet girl,” I say softly as I open the passenger door and help her get settled inside.
“Home,” she whispers, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her face. My woman is so tired, but she needs a hot shower before we pick everything apart. What’s most important is that she’s here now.