Page 32 of Westward

“Thank you. I’ll get us some lemonade. What do you say?”

He smiled at me, looking even younger and more carefree than before. “That sounds amazing. I ran out of my water like an hour ago.”

“You should have said something.”

“I was fine.”

“If you’re thirsty and working on my lawn, you get something to drink. That’s going to be a rule.”

“Whatever you say, Ms. E.”

I rolled my eyes as he moved to the garage, and I once again wiped the dirt from my jeans. I was going to have to shower again, because no matter what I did, gardening was always messy.

Footsteps sounded behind me, and I turned, expecting to see Will or, hopefully, Atlas, but then my head shot back as someone gripped my neck with their large, meaty hand.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with that kid?” a deep voice, slightly slurred, asked.

I staggered back, gripping my fingernails into the man’s arms, trying to get away. He squeezed, and I coughed, my breath coming short.

“You think that you can just take him from me? What’s the state paying you?” The man pushed then, and I moved to the side, gasping for air. My elbow hit the ground hard, and I rolled, trying to get to my feet.

This was Will’s foster dad, the man who had dumped him and run, but from the smell of whiskey on his breath, had some regrets of his own.

“You stupid bitch. He’s not going to give you anything. That little asshole wasn’t worth the time.” The man kicked out, and I whirled out of the way, knowing that I wasn’t going to be able to fight this guy. He had at least eighty pounds of muscle on me and a full foot of height. And the first thing I had learned in self-defense was to run.

But before I could, Will was there and shoved his foster dad out of the way.

“Keep your hands off her.”

“Don’t you dare touch me, boy. You think you’re so good. You’re nothing.” The older man swiped out, smacking Will’s face with the back of his hand. I moved forward, trying to put myself between them, but then Atlas was there, shoving the man away.

“You’re going to want to step back, Dobson.”

That was his name. In the heat of the moment, I hadn’t been able to think. I put Will behind me, even though he was much taller, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to let this man hurt him.

“You think you’re so special,” Dobson sneered. “You’re nothing but a two-bit hack that is going to get kicked out of the NHL because you’re nothing too. And now what, you’re fucking little Lizzie again? I bet you’re fucking Will too. He’s an adult now, so I guess it’s legal. Weirdos.”

“Fuck you,” Will spat behind me. “Don’t talk to them like that.”

“Don’t you even look at me, you little shit. You cost me more than you’ll ever know, and I can’t even stand to fucking look at you.”

“Then why are you here?” I asked, my voice shaky, my throat slightly raw. I was going to end up with bruises, and I knew it. Atlas wouldn’t even look at me, his attention all on Dobson, and I was grateful. Because once he saw the marks on my skin, I wasn’t going to be able to hold him back. I wasn’t going to let Atlas get hurt because of me. Not again.

“I’m just here to make sure this boy knows his place,” Dobson said softly, but his eyes darkened, and fear crept up my spine.

“Now now, Dobson, why don’t you come over here and talk with me?”

I turned, pushing Will behind me as Sheriff Adam Grayson moved forward, wearing his street clothes, but still with a gun on his hip. His badge was out and prominent, and he gave me a small nod before glaring at Dobson. “We had a few calls from the neighbors who witnessed a few things that alarmed them. And since we’re in this new age of technology, there seems to be a few doorbell cameras with footage of you pushing Ms. Ellis right here.”

“She’s a fucking liar.” Spittle flew from Dobson’s lips, and I tensed.

“She hasn’t said a damn thing, Dobson.”

Dobson lurched forward then, and Atlas took him by the neck and tossed him back.

“Don’t you dare fucking step towards her,” Atlas snarled.

I moved forward and wrapped my arm around his waist. “Atlas. Let the others take care of it.”