My head bobs up and down. Fuck, this is awkward. “I didn’t catch your names, I’m Hannah.” I stick my hand out clumsily.
“I’m Mike.” The man who I danced with gives me a wink then motions to his friend. “And this is Josh.” The two of them turn into four, and I blink away the dizziness from my eyes. I try to look down at my watch, but my fingers fumble and the numbers blur together. I usually do well on lack of sleep, and I don’t think I’ve been here that long, but the longer I sit on this stool, the more exhausted I feel. Hoping to wash it away, I take another sip of the water in my hand. “So cool,” I say to them, hoping that they don’t pick up on how sick I’m starting to feel.
After another minute, my body only feels worse. My head is throbbing and the room begins to corkscrew around me. “I think I’m gonna head home, I have an early morning,” I lie, trying to set my glass on the bar, but missing by a good foot. I watch through tunnel vision as the glass slips from my hand and shatters on the floor. “Shit!” Trying to hop off the stool, I only make it about a second before my legs give out and I feel my body start to melt to the floor.
“Woah, woah, woah.” Mike's arms jolt out and catch me around the middle before hauling me into his side. His friend leans over the bar and says something to the bartender that I can’t quite make out, and then we’re moving towards the exit. I want to protest, tell them that I don’t want to leave with them, but I feel so sick that any help to get me into my bed sounds like a gesture I can’t turn down. The urge to call Dean is so overwhelming I can feel tears start to prickle the back of my eyes. “Don’t cry, sugar, we’ll take good care of you.” The slam of the heavy door behind us makes me flinch, but the cool night air helps me sober up just enough to get my feet under me. WhenI try to push off from the arms holding me up, they just grow tighter.
Sirens blare in my head, but everything around me moves in slow motion. I feel my bag tug at my shoulder and roll my head to the side, watching as Mike digs through my purse and pulls out my truck keys. Lights flash in the back part of the lot, and I curse myself for parking so far away.
“Fancy truck,” Josh tuts, and they chuckle darkly.
“She likes ‘em big, doesn’t she?” They share a laugh, making quick work of covering the distance to my truck. A group of girls passes us by, and I try to open my mouth to ask for help, but my lips feel like they are glued together. I watch with tears in my eyes as they pass by.
“Hey!” Relief washes over me. Mike and Josh skid to a stop before looking over their shoulders at the girl. “Is she ok?” I want to scream and run to her. Josh drops his hold on me and mumbles quietly to Mike, “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.” His eyes dip to mine, bile works up my throat at the sight of his tongue sweeping over his lip. “You owe me man.” Then he turns away talking to the girls as his bootsteps fade away, then I’m being pushed back into motion. Dread builds in my stomach as we round the hood of my truck and I’m hidden from view, cast in the shadows of the overhanging trees.
“Be a good girl and I won’t hurt you.” His voice isn’t as kind as it was inside. “At least, not too much.” His eyes darken as his hands roam over my skin. My short denim skirt and thigh high boots felt like such a good idea only a few hours ago. I cringe as his fingers slide to the inside of my thighs and begin to work their way higher. I try to clench my legs together, but he grips my neck tightly in one hand and roughly spreads my knees with his thigh. The feeling of his hard dick against my stomach makes me want to puke all over his fancy boots. His fingertips graze sickeningly slow over my underwear while he tightens his holdon my throat, turning my already pounding head into shambles, my blurred vision beginning to turn black. One moment, his stale breath is on my neck, and the next his body is being ripped away from mine. I sink to the ground, my legs giving out under me and I curl in on myself in an attempt to shield my body from him. Choking in air finally, I try to look around, preparing for him to grab me again.
Flesh hitting flesh and the sound of boots scuffling around the back of my truck catches my attention, and on hands and knees, I crawl towards the commotion. Mike hits the ground a few feet in front of me, and then a man in all black is on top of him, straddling him, fists connecting with bone over and over again. It may be dark, only the lights from the parking lot filtering through the trees overhead giving off any kind of visibility, but I’d know that body anywhere. Dean hauls Mike up by his shirt and throws him against the tailgate. The sound vibrates through my skull and I clench my eyes shut at throbbing pain.
“Fucking son of a bitch!” he yells, each word punctuated with a hard punch to the stomach. Mike lets out a groan, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground in front of me. He wipes his mouth on his shirt sleeve and I let out a gasp at the amount of it that covers his once perfectly pressed shirt. Dean's head snaps to where I sit on my knees in the dirt. Mike sees his opening and takes it, lunging at him. His shoulder slams into Dean’s chest and he lets out a grunt as they tussle backwards. I watch on in horror as Mike lands a few hits to Dean's face. In a flurry of flying fists and splitting skin, all I can do is sit there in shock, the effects of whatever was given me tonight still running steadily through my system. One final punch lands on Mike's cheek, and with a thud, he falls to the asphalt, his head making a sickening crack as it bounces off the ground, and then silence.
I stare at his body, his lifeless eyes staring back at me. Blood begins to trickle out of his nose and pool around the gaping split in his head. As quickly as I can in my drugged state, I stumble back on my ass and shuffle backward in horror. I barely turn in time and vomit all over the ground, Dean’s boots sounding behind me.
“Darlin’, are you ok? Baby. Hannah, look at me!” He’s in front of me in a heartbeat, those wild eyes bouncing around my face, then halting on my eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath before reaching down and grabbing my bag out of the dirt and pulling out my keys. Gently, he takes hold of my arms and pulls me to my feet. His warmth circles me as he pulls me against his chest. I can feel his heart beating rapidly under his sweat soaked shirt. Relief floods through me and blindly I reach up and try to hold on to his arms, something to help me accept that he’s really here.
Peeking over my shoulder at the man laying behind us, I whisper into Dean’s chest, “Is he…is he.” I can’t say the words out loud.
Without any hesitation, Dean kisses my temple and whispers back, “Yes,” before opening my backdoor and helping me step inside. I collapse against the soft leather, feeling my body slowly shutting down now that my adrenaline is wearing off. As I watch Dean tug his phone out of his pocket, wedging it between his shoulder and ear while tugging my boots off one at a time, I can’t help but start crying all over again. Not because of the man laying in a pool of blood mere feet from me, but because after the beast I watched Dean turn into to protect me, his touch is still painfully soft. His fingers linger on my bare skin for a beat too long, but I don’t mind. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but he moves around my truck while talking. Before too long heat fills the cab, and I shiver trying to rub my numb fingers along my arms. Dean’s silhouette fills the door a split second later, ablanket in his hands, and with tender care he drapes it over my body. His large body hovers for a moment before he bends over and kisses my cheek. “I’ve got you, baby.” Those words linger long after my eyes drift shut.
dean
“I’ll be there in ten.”Owen can’t see me, but I nod when I hang up and look back once more at Hannah curled against her backseat. The blanket moves slowly up and down for a few moments before I convince myself that she’ll be ok. I close the door as softly as I can before turning towards the man on the ground. The moment I got back to the arena parking lot, I damn near sprinted over to her trailer. Her lights were off, but I pounded on her door for minutes anyway, calling out her name and endless apologies. When it was obvious she wasn’t there, I pulled out my phone and out of habit clicked on her location. What once felt like a way of keeping her safe felt more like an invasion of her privacy now. I stood there like a fence post for what felt like hours debating my next move. Letting out a string of curses, I flipped the phone over and tracked her little blue dot to the bar down the road. I didn’t waste much time getting here and finding her on the dance floor with this asshole. I watched them for a while. The smiles she gave him poured salt in my wounds, but I’ve never been one to tuck tail and run, so I mademyself comfortable and watched them spin around the floor for a few songs.
It wasn’t until a song came on that had the floor coupling up that my hands clenched into fists at my side. I watched in pure agony and rage as this man slid his hands all over my woman. Deep down I knew she wouldn’t leave with him, no way could she not feel what was between us. That was the only thought keeping me rooted to my spot instead of walking over and laying him on his ass. It wasn’t until she stumbled off her stool that I knew something was wrong. She hadn’t had one drink in the time I’d had my eyes on her. Hannah also wasn’t new to late nights, that I knew first hand. We’d spent countless nights over the past few months getting little sleep together, and she’d never acted as drained as she did tonight. I kept my distance as I followed her and the two men outside. My blood surged and my nails dug into my palms so hard I felt skin pop underneath them. I waited until the moment he laid his hands on her, then I snapped. Did I intend to kill the man? No, it wasn’t intentional. Fucker lost his footing and landed wrong. Call it what you may, but karma will always hunt you down.
The sound of tires skidding to a stop in front of Hannah's truck pulls me from my thoughts. The dead body at my feet coming back into focus. Owen slides out of his lifted truck just as I step around to meet him.
“What’s going on?” he asks, trying to glance around me, but I shift to hide what’s behind me. He narrows his eyes, looking back up at me. “Dean…” he says cautiously.
“I need your help.” I give him a stern look then step to the side, watching his eyes bulge when his gaze lands on the man lying dead behind me.
Brushing past me and kneeling down, he places two fingers against the man's neck. After a moment, he drops his head between his shoulders, then stands and pivots towards me.“Speak,” he demands, crossing his arms across his chest. Not knowing when someone will come our way, I give Owen the rundown on what happened tonight. He listens closely, cursing every now and then. He eyes me for a bit before they shift to the truck door I’ve been safeguarding. “She in there now?” He motions to the cab when I finally take a breath. My boots scuff over the rough ground before I lean my back against the tailgate, crossing my ankles over each other.
“Yeah,” I say on a sigh.
“She ok, do I need to check her out?” He takes a step forward but, I level him with a look that stops him short.
“Touch my woman and I’ll be burying two bodies on the ranch tonight,” I grit out between clenched teeth.
“Down boy,” he says with a devilish grin.
“I think they roofied her,” I mutter, running a hand down my face.
“Sounds like it,” Owen says, turning back around to eye the man laying in a pool of blood beneath us. “You sure his friend isn’t gonna come out while we’re loading his dead friend in the back of my truck?” I turn and look back at the door of the bar, then check my watch. It’s been half an hour since I threw the first punch until this moment.
“He went inside with a group of girls. He’s probably waiting for this fucker to come back in.” I wish his friend would come outside, I have no problem taking the population down two numbers tonight.
“Ok, let’s get this asshole loaded in the bed.” I watch a little awestruck as Owen quickly walks to his truck. A moment later, he comes back with a tarp tucked under his arms. Tossing a pair of plastic gloves at me, he tugs his own pair over his hands with a snap of the material against his skin. He looks at me with an asinine smile on his face.
