Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
May glanced over. “You really might have to hit Jarod with your car.”
Chapter 18
Anger boiled low in Christian’s gut as he sat on Amka’s front porch, jaw locked tight, hands stiff on his knees. The wood beneath him creaked whenever he shifted, dry and splintered in the night air. A moth batted against the porch light overhead, thumping softly with every pass. The rest of the area lay in silence, and nothing moved except shadows and his own blood pressure.
Headlights bobbed through the dark, weaving slightly before straightening out. May’s truck came to a stop at the base of the drive and cut its engine, leaving only the ticking of the cooling block and a stretch of cold quiet.
The women didn’t move, both staring out at him through the glass.
It took Amka several long seconds to climb down from the cab. The porch light illuminated her face, which had been smeared with mud. Her thick hair had pulled loose of its band, and a new bruise darkened her chin. “No. I’m fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she told May, shutting the truck door and walking toward him.
Christian stood. “Where the fuck have you been?”
She paused at the bottom step. “None of your fucking business.”
He ticked his head to the side. “That’s where you’re wrong. I left Ace on you at the bar. That means you stay within Ace’s sight.”
She lifted both hands, half challenge, half defense, muddy fingers curled, chin tilted. “I don’t need a keeper, Christian. And if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be you. Ace had a lot to drink and fell asleep. That’s not my fault.”
“Yeah? Well, he’s on his way to see May.”
“Why?”
“Because I beat the shit out of him.”
Her jaw dropped a little as she peered closer at him. “Wait a minute…are you going to have a black eye?”
“Yeah, and probably a split lip. I didn’t say he didn’t fight back. He had one job, and instead, he got drunk.” Christian’s knuckles were raw and caked with drying blood. He flexed his fingers, regretting it.
Amka looked like she’d crawled out of a ditch. She started to march past him, her nose in the air.
He clenched his jaw but didn’t stop her.
Then she paused and gently took his palm, sliding to the side so the moonlight showed his hand. Hers was small, warm despite the mud caked on her skin. “How bad are your knuckles?”
Her soft touch might kill him. “They’re fine.”
She sighed. “You need ice, you moron.”
The word didn’t even sting. Not coming from her. She stomped inside and he followed, barely leashing his temper with both hands. “Why are you covered in mud?”
“Because I fell in it,” she snapped, moving into the kitchen and yanking open the freezer. The door thudded hard against the side. She turned around with a bag of frozen peas and gently placed it on his hand. That gentleness did something to him, and his chest ached. Hard.
She angled her head to look up at his face. “Your lip’s not going to split. It’s just a little bruised. You want something for that eye?”
“No,” he growled.
“Fine,” she muttered. “I’m going to go take a shower.”
The image hit him instantly—her, naked, steam curling around her body, water trailing down her thighs—and it nearly buckled his knees. He looked away and tried to focus elsewhere. The dent in her fridge. The mud on her floor. Anything. “I’m not messing around here,” he said. “Where were you?”
“It’s none of your business.” She turned back, hands on her hips, chin lifted. Still breathing hard. Obviously spoiling for a fight. Wanting one. “We made it entirely clear that you don’t want a relationship. So why are you butting into my life?”
He didn’t answer right away since he was too busy staring at her mouth and the flash of fury in her eyes. The temper suited her. “Because you need a keeper,” he said, voice lower now. “And in case you forgot, you're already in a relationship. I told you. I don't poach.” It was weak. It was a lie. They both knew it. But it was all he had.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. She looked like she wanted to kick him. Hard. He lifted the stupid thing to his ear. “What?”
“Hey, it’s Dutch. I just got a call. A couple of kids out four-wheeling near Rascal Mountain under the moonlight found a body with its eyes scratched out.”
Christian's pulse ticked up. “Wonderful.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at Amka’s. Trying to figure out why she’s covered in mud.”
Dutch remained silent for a moment. “What’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing,” Christian said curtly, although it was a fair question to ask.
“She's covered in mud because she fell out of Jarod Teller’s window. Along with the doctor.”
Well, that made no sense. “I think she’s been drinking.”
Dutch chuckled. “Yeah, I smelled tequila on her earlier. Meet me at the turnoff to Plumber Creek in ten minutes.”