Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
I felt the need to get back to her like an itch under my skin.
After racing up and down the aisles of the little store, I grabbed the basics and checked out as quickly as I could. As I was loading up the car, I felt a presence behind me.
I turned to see who it was and noticed Curtis Billingham standing in my blind spot. He wasn’t in uniform this time but stood erect and arrogant, as if he were a cop assessing the riffraff. I wasn’t even sure there was such a thing as riffraff in Hobie, but if there was, I was it.
“Help you?” I asked as I set the final bag in the trunk of the rental car.
“Why are you still here in town?”
I looked around me at the small grocery parking lot. Several people were slowing down to stare at us even while they pretended not to. I assumed most people in town recognized Curt and they sure as hell had heard who the new purple-haired tattooed guy in town was.
“None of your business,” I responded with a laugh, wheeling the cart back to the row of carts in front of the store. Curt’s eyes tracked me as I made my way back to my car and got in the driver’s seat. I turned over the engine and waited for him to move out of my way so I didn’t back over him.
He didn’t move.
This guy was really starting to piss me off. Clearly he was angry for some reason, but what that had to do with me, I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t been to town in fifteen fucking years—having left before our parents had even gotten engaged.
I rolled down the window and lost control of my patience.
“Get the hell out of my way, Officer Billingham,” I barked.
Several patrons of the store gasped and stared openly now, squinting at me through the bright sunlight of the cold fall day.
“What did you just say to me?” Curt bit out between clenched teeth.
“You heard me. Unless you have reason to detain me, get the fuck away from my car. This is harassment, and we both know it.”
His voice was low in response so that I was the only one who could hear it. “If you think I’m going to do one single thing to make your life easier in my town, Salerno, you’ve got another think coming. I’ll stand here all day if I want to.”
I threw the car back in park and turned the engine off, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind me. Every feeling of having been bullied by this fucker and others like him in my life came crashing down on me, and I had to remind myself that I was an adult now. I didn’t have to take his bullshit anymore.
“Man up, you chickenshit,” I shouted at him. “If you have something you want to say, then say it. But don’t hide behind your damned badge or stalk me like a jealous lover. You’ve followed me all over this goddamned town trying to intimidate me, and it isn’t working, you son of a bitch. Grow the fuck up.”
At the mention of being my lover, his face turned purple and a vein stood out in his neck. Oh ho, seemed I had found a tender spot in our local homophobe’s ego. Had he seriously not owned up to his sexuality in all this time?
He stepped forward and got in my face, his reflective lenses only inches from my forehead. I cursed my lame-ass genetics for making me so small compared to him, but whatever I lacked in body size, I was determined to make up for in attitude.
I gritted my teeth and fisted my hands beside my hips, trying so hard to remind myself that spending a night in the Hobie jail was a really bad idea, especially if it was run by this guy’s friends.
“Is there a problem here?” The voice was familiar and soothing, and it came out of the blue from somewhere behind me. Suddenly stupid-ass tears threatened to fill my eyes, and I blinked them back in annoyance.
Weston Wilde.
I closed my eyes for the briefest moment of gratitude before reminding myself I didn’t need help. I was fine on my own.
“No, no problem Dr. Wilde,” I said. “Just asking my dear brother here to kindly step away from my vehicle so I can pull my car out.”
When I referred to Curt as my brother, all hell broke loose. The officer lost his shit and pulled his arm back to strike. Before I could do the same or even defend myself, strong arms grabbed me around the waist and twisted me away, out of the trajectory of the meaty fist coming for me.
I scrambled against West and growled at him to let me go, but he murmured words of calm into my ear so low I couldn’t catch anything but the tone of them. My breath was heaving, and with each drag of inhale, I felt West’s arms tight around me. By the time I caught sight of Curt, two other men had a hold of him and were trying to keep him from coming after me again.