“She’s good for the kids,” he answered, surprising me.
“She is, but it wouldn’t hurt to get another horse trained.”
Sighing, he picked up his glass of lemonade, effectively shutting down the conversation.
“I ran into town today to check on the truck.”
“Yeah? Did they figure out what was wrong with it?”
He shook his head. “Gasket issues.”
“Wyatt just checked all that shit.”
“Either he missed something or?—”
“Someone’s fucking with us.”
This had gone on long enough. All this shit with the Callahans was getting out of control, and if we didn’t do something about it soon, someone was going to end up getting hurt.
“Pop, I know you don’t want to talk to John, but?—”
“His kid is brain-damaged because of Jeff,” he snapped. “Do you really think he has any interest in hashing this out with us?”
“So, we just let his punk kids run around and destroy our property? No matter what you say, Jeff was not the only one at fault that day.”
“No, but he sure as hell didn’t help things,” Pop spat.
“That was years ago. He was a kid!”
Pop’s eyes shot to mine, and that fire I used to see on a daily basis finally rose to the surface. “He might have been a kid, but he was smart enough to know he was wrong.”
It wouldn’t do any good to argue about this now. I’d just have to keep a closer eye on things.
“The point is,” Pop continued, “when I ran into town, I saw Jack Harding. He said he was dropping off his bike at the shop and saw Austin with his hands on Bailey.”
I stiffened instantly. “What the fuck do you mean, he had his hands on her?”
“Wyatt came in and Austin backed off. That’s all I know. But with the rumor mill going, he thought we might want to know.”
I was out of my chair and running down the steps in a flash.
“Don’t do anything stupid!” Pop shouted.
But I was already getting in the work truck, ignoring Jeff as he came running out of the barn, shouting at me for stealing his ride. Dust kicked up behind me in a flurry as I sped down the long drive.
The only thing I could think about was Bailey being anywhere near that psychopath, with his hands on her and what he would do to her. If she was hurt in any way, I’d tear that fucker apart, limb by limb.
It took me half the time it normally would to get into town, and when I screeched into the parking lot at Gearhead Garage, Sheriff Wynne just shook his head at me, not bothering to cite me for speeding.
Slamming the door, I checked the parking lot for Bailey’s car, but she was already gone. However, Wyatt was still here, and before I left, I’d make damn sure he knew where I stood on her safety.
The door slammed against the wall as I shoved through it, putting a nice hole in the drywall. Wyatt barely glanced up from his paperwork as I stormed toward the counter.
“What the fuck was Austin doing anywhere near Bailey?”
“It’s a free country,” he said nonchalantly.
“Not where she’s concerned,” I growled.
