Chapter 37 Rebel
Rebel
“Hey, Hollywood. Do you think you might name one of those babies after me?” Storm asks.
“If he has a son, he sure as hell isn’t naming it after you, idiot.” Owen grips the steering wheel as the truck bounces along the underdeveloped dirt road to the ridge overlooking Devil’s Bend.
“Why not?” Storm grins around the toothpick he’s chewing on.
“Because they’re going to be girls.” I grab hold of the oh shit bar as we bounce over a rock in the road. The headlights skitter across the darkness, pointing out boulders and trees and a pair of glowing eyes that vanish in a blur.
“You found out?” Owen cranes his neck as though he believes it will help him see better.
I shake my head. “Mark my words. They’re girls.”
I feel it in my gut. In my bones. I’m certain of it.
“Okay, Hollywood.” Owen guffaws.
In the distance a three-story log cabin spreads across the landscape.
“Is that it?”
“Sure is,” Jett says.
Up ahead, closed wooden gates inlaid with metal bars loom across a cattle grid. Above them a metal archway carries the ranch name. How are we going to approach without him knowing we’re coming?
“It’s the family’s ranch,” Owen says. “Built by grandpappy Duke, but the old man is over in the Flowerdale retirement facility these days, and Duke’s parents are dead.”
“He had a falling out with his brother Dawson a couple years ago,” Jett adds. “He still works the ranch, but he doesn’t live here.”
“Because he knows his brother is a lying, cheating bastard,” Storm says.
“You think he knows about what happened to Summer?”
“Oh, he knew and still protected his piece of shit brother,” Storm says. “That puts him in the same bracket as Duke as far as I’m concerned.”
“So how are we going to get in there without him noticing?” Because all these ranchers have access to guns and probably began practicing their aim before they were old enough to drive. I don’t particularly feel like getting shot tonight.
Owen pulls the truck up not far from the gate, and we all jump out. Storm grabs a couple of guns from the back and tosses one to Owen.
“Just going to scare him,” Owen says.
“Uh-huh.” They can shoot him and bury him in that blasted pit of theirs if they want. I’m not going to say anything about what happens here tonight. Not after the trauma Summer has had to live with because of this piece of shit.
Jett scales the stone fence. He swings a leg over and sits on top for a moment, before nimbly leaping down on the other side.
Storm goes next.
“We’re going to walk up. He’s not expecting us, and we don’t want to alert him if we don’t have to. I wanna see the fucker’s face when he realizes who we are.” Owen stops at the base of the fence. “Your turn, Hollywood.”
It’s not a hard fence to scale. I perch on the top to see where Jett and Storm landed.
“Take this.” Owen tosses up the shotgun before he starts to climb. He drops down on the other side. “Give it back.”
I hand over the weapon. I’m not much for guns. My preferred violence has always been fists.
The ground is hard under foot, but I land light and walk off the impact as we cut our way up the hill toward the house.
A single steady light comes from inside the house. A second light flickers on when we are a few yards away, but it’s an outside light on a sensor. No movement accompanies it. No voice calls out to tell us to get the fuck off the property.
In the driveway, a shiny pickup truck sits next to the purple van that belongs to the florist doing the flowers for the wedding.
The front door opens, and we all stop when the florist flies down the steps toward us. Owen moves into her path, and she barrels into his chest.
“Violet.” His gruff expression softens when he looks down at the brunette. “What are you doing here?”
“Sorry, Owen.” Her red-rimmed eyes water. “I didn’t mean to run into you like that. I should have been looking where I was going. Sometimes I don’t think. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” He doesn’t relinquish his hold. Bending down, he studies her face like he’s looking for something. “Are you okay, Violet?”
“Fine. I’m great. Dandy.” She stumbles back a step, not that she can get far with Owen holding onto her. “Busy day. I can’t wait to get home.”
“Do you see it?” Storm growls as he comes up behind her. “I told you, didn’t I?”
She winces.
Jett closes in on one side. “Rough night, Vi?”
“No.” She tries to step back, but that brings her in direct contact with Storm.
He steadies her with a hand on her elbow. “You sure you don’t want to tell us who gave you that black eye?”
She glances back at the house, the view blocked by Storm’s chest. “I need to get home. I’m a mess.”
“He did this, didn’t he?” Something dark flickers across Jett’s face.
“He hurt you, Violet?” Owen lowers his head close to hers and whispers something in her ear.
She swallows hard and jerks her chin.
My phone vibrates against my leg. I fish it out and light up the screen to a new group text message.
West: We discussed it, and we think the goat might have been an attempt to get Summer to leave. Know anyone who would want to make that happen?
Owen walks Violet to her van, holds open the door, and waits for her to climb inside. They exchange a few more words.
“Damn it.” Jett says. “I was prepared to have a conversation with Duke. Now I’m going to have to lay hands on the bastard.”
“He’s lucky that’s all we’re going to do.” Storm eyes the house like he’d like to set fire to it.
The van motor starts, and Violet drives away.
“He hurt her,” Owen says as he joins us. “She didn’t go into details, but he gave her that black eye. And then he threatened her if she told anyone what happened.”
“We’re going to hurt him back, right?” Storm asks, his voice cold.
“It’s the least we can do,” Owen’s gravelly voice is sharp with emotion. “I told her we’d check in on her when we’re finished here.”
Rebel: I might. Let me see what I can find out.
Jett and Storm go inside while Owen stands in the doorway. “Coming, Hollywood?”
If this prick killed the goat to scare Summer, I have to find out. I shove my phone back in my pocket and follow Owen into the house.
By the time we step inside, Storm is already holding the guy in the sight on his gun. His finger hovers over the trigger. Jett stands over Duke, who is on his knees with his hands clasped behind his head.
“You Hearts are all crazy. First your whore of a sister accuses me of assaulting her. Now you’re breaking into my home.”
I walk straight up to the piece of shit and punch him in the mouth. I get a small amount of satisfaction when his lip is split and bloodied. “Call Summer a whore again and you might not make it through the night.”
“I’m going to have you all thrown in jail for this,” he screams, reaching for his face.
“Come now, Duke. The door was unlocked. We’re here to talk. Nothing more.” Owen pulls a seat out from the table. Dragging it into the middle of the room, he sits backward on it and folds his arms over the top of the backrest.
“He already hit me.” Duke glowers at me.
“Did you?” Owen asks me.
I know how to play this game. “Nah, I didn’t touch him.” I turn to Storm. “Did I?”
Storm shakes his head. “I didn’t see nothing. Did you, Jett?”
“Honestly, couldn’t tell you.” Jett says with mock sincerity. “One minute Duke was letting his mouth run away on him, the next minute he was complaining about being assaulted. That seems unlikely. Unless… were you asking for it, Duke?”
“Bastards.” Duke spits out a wad of blood and spit.
“See.” Owen stands up and walks over to Duke. I know from experience how intimidating he can be. “No one hurt you, Duke. You got what you deserved.”
“Fuck you,” Duke snaps.
Owen’s fist cracks against his mouth.
Duke lets out a snarled cry. A tooth bounces on the floor. “Fuck.”
“The first one was for Summer, but this one was for Violet. I don’t know why you hurt her or why she won’t talk about it, but it was you.”
Duke opens his mouth like he’s going to argue.
“That was a taste of what we’ll rain down on you if I see one more bruise on that woman’s face,” Owen says before returning to his chair.
“I didn’t hit her. Didn’t hurt her,” Duke says. “Maybe she fell.”
Owen pauses. His shoulders rise and fall. “Are you telling me she hurt herself?”
“Look, it’s none of your business.”
“I’m making it my business.” Owen must have changed his mind about sitting because he goes back to standing over the bastard. “Stay the fuck away from Violet. And stay the fuck away from our sister. You and your goons. Don’t talk to either one of them. Don’t look at either one of them.”
“I wouldn’t touch your sister. She’s a fat bitch.”
The hell he says that about the woman I love and gets away with it.
Owen is smart enough to step aside as I launch myself at the asshole. My fists connect; one after the other.
When I regain my composure and step away my knuckles are bloody. Whether it’s his blood or mine, I don’t care.
Storm grins and nods. “Hollywood.”
“I’d tell you to be careful what you say about our sister, but it’s too late for that.” Owen tells the prick while he snags the dish towel next to the sink and hands it to me to wipe my hands on. He digs in his pocket and tosses some keys to Jett. “Go bring the truck up.”
“Won’t be long.” Jett saunters out.
Owen looks at me. “You want to piss on him, Hollywood?”
“Sure.” I reach for my fly. Maybe the threat will make him more likely to tell the truth.
“What the fuck?” The whites around Duke’s eyes becomes more visible as he stares at me in horror. “No. No, don’t do that.”
“He has a bad habit of urinating on pets and people who piss him off,” Owen tells Duke. “So you might want to be careful what you say to our brother-in-law.”
“You’re Summer’s husband?” Duke is drooling. His lip is swelling. But he can’t help himself apparently because the stupidity keeps leaving his mouth. “You’re a chubby chaser? Fat women get you off?”