Page 43 of Unruly

“He’s not going to touch you,” I say. “That pathetic ex doesn’t get to touch what’s mine. This body, every sound you just made, all of it is mine. I don’t give a shit about your age or your past or what you think you can’t give me. I want all of you, and I’m keeping you.”

She stares at me. “It’s not that simple,” she says softly.

I pull her into my chest, wrapping both arms around her, her face against my neck, her breathing slowly coming back down. She stands there, lets me hold her, and doesn’t say a single word about it.

After a while, she stirs, and reaches for her shorts. She pulls them on and pulls her hair back up into a messy bun on the top of her head while looking for what’s left of her shirt. I watch her reassemble piece by piece.

She doesn’t notice me slipping her soaked underwear into my jacket pocket.

She’s checking the shelves for nothing in particular when I say, “I’m not leaving you.”

She goes still.

“Not because of what he said. Not because of any of it. Whatever story you’ve been telling yourself about what I am and what this is—I’m not leaving. That’s the whole thing.”

She doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I just did.”

She turns around.

Her eyes are more green than blue right now, which I’ve figured out means something is landing somewhere she doesn’t have defenses for.

“Ready?” I say.

“I drove,” she says.

“I’ll follow you home.”

“Cash—”

“Not tonight,” I say. “Don’t argue with me about this one.”

She closes her mouth.

We walk out through the bar, and I hold the back door. She goes through it without looking at me, and I follow her out into the cool night, watching her put her helmet on and pull out of the lot.

I get in my truck.

I give her half a block, and then, I follow her home.

When she arrives, I don’t get out of the truck. Instead, I watch her go into the house and turn on the lights. Watch as her shadows move through the house, doing her nighttime routine.

I don’t know exactly what Zach said to her tonight. I got most of it but not all of it, but the parts I got were enough to put something burning in my chest. What I know is that he called her. He called her during her shift at The Bar—the one place that’s been keeping her sane—and he said things that made her hands shake for four hours.

His days of having access to what’s mine are numbered.

I pull away from her street and point the truck toward the ranch.

I’ll be back tomorrow.

And every day after that until she stops being surprised when I show up.

CASH

Today has been dragging.

I couldn’t begin to tell you half the shit I’ve had to do today because Rhett decided to just not show up. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the fight he and Colt got into the other day—which, for the record, I still don’t have the full story on, and I’m choosing not to ask because some things are above my pay grade, and whatever’s happening between those two is between them. All I know is that when Rhett goes dark like this, the rest of us pick up the slack, and today, that slack has been considerable.