Page 84 of The County Line
Lawson jerks the wheel hard, cutting off a truck and sliding us into the lot of our towns old, 24-hour bank. Before the truck even stops, I’m out, running toward her.
“Roxy!” I call out, but it’s she who turns first. Her ears pin back, and she lets out a soft whine as she runs to me at full speed, whimpering the whole way like she thinks she’s in trouble.
“There’s my girl,” I murmur, dropping to my knees and wrapping her in my arms. My fingers scratch behind her ears as I whisper words of comfort, but she lets out another whimper, pressing against me like she knows something’s wrong.
“Where’s Molly?” I ask softly.
Roxy’s ears flatten, and my heart drops.
Roxy’s here, not at the Fern Ridge address which means Jordan never had her in the first place.
He never fucking had Roxy.
His text to her was a lie—a distraction to get Molly out of town to some abandoned location where he could do... what exactly?
I clap my hands sharply. “Come on,” I say, bolting back to the truck at full speed. Roxy follows, leaping into the cab as I slide in like she knows we need to go save our girl. I don’t even pull up her location, there isn’t time to check where she is.
“Get to that address,” I bark at Lawson.
He doesn’t hesitate, slamming on the gas and sending us speeding toward the county limit while I try Molly’s phone again.
Chapter 38 – Molly
“Where’s Roxy?” I yell as soon as I pull up to Everest Lane.
The house at the address Jordan gave stands crooked and lifeless, like something out of a bad horror movie. It’s in Fern Falls—a town we used to hear about growing up, but rarely visited. The kind of place that was always on the edge of everything, its economy stagnant, its people a little rougher around the edges. Parties held here were more a suggestion. One that we never followed through on.?
My stomach churns as I take in the peeling paint and overgrown yard.How did Jordan even know about this place?
I scan the yard, calling for her again. “Roxy!” Roxy would never stray far. If she were here, she’d already be at my side, tail wagging, her warm presence easing my nerves. But there’s no sign of her anywhere.
Jordan sits casually on the steps that lead up to the home, watching me like he’s trying to work through something in his head. His expression makes my skin crawl, and I can’t figure outwhy he’s brought me here and what he could possibly have to say that hasn’t been said in the past.
“I never had the dog,” he says flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
My breath catches. The realization of what he’s done sinks in, cold and heavy. Roxy isn’t here. She’s still out there—somewhere—missing. Maybe even hurt and scared.
“You don’t get to talk to me anymore,” I snap, my voice stronger than I feel. “We’re divorced and I have a protective order against you, remember?” The weight of the gun tucked into the back of my jeans presses against my spine, grounding me in a way nothing else has today.
“I know,” he replies, almost wistfully. “I just…fuck, Molly, I miss you and this was the only way I knew I could get you to listen.”
I stare at him in shock. Is he serious?
But his expression says he is. His face twists with something between longing and anger, and I take a moment to really look at him. The sharp jawline I once loved brushing my fingers across, the dark brown hair my fingers used to tangle in, those warm green eyes that made promises they could never keep.
Jordan was the kind of man who turned heads without trying. Classically handsome, charming, and a good listener. The kind of man that every woman wanted to sleep with—and many had.
He’d been helpful to me when I first moved to Louisiana, kind, and charismatic. Always willing to lend a hand. And he had. Hands, lips, his whole body—lending it all to women who weren’t me.His wife.
For a long time, I blamed myself. I wondered what was so wrong with me that I couldn’t hold on to a man like him. Maybe there was some fatal flaw that I was missing in my appearance, orpersonality, that has men taking advantage of my kindness and treating me like shit. Maybe I don’t have as much to offer as I thought I did. Why was it that I kept falling for beautiful liars with wicked tongues who shattered my trust.
But I’m not that woman anymore.
Since moving back to Whitewood Creek, I stopped asking why and started learningwhatI deserved. I realized that my future didn’t have to look like my past relationships and Colt is proof of that. He’s a good man, a beautiful man, with a kind and steady heart. Our love is built on years of trust, friendship, and honesty. He’d proven to me in his youth that he was a good person who will never let me down. That’s why I never hesitated to love Colt. To trust him. To say yes when he asked me to marry him.
He’s everything Jordan never was—and everything I never dared to believe I deserved. Becoming a part of the Marshall family? Well, that doesn’t happen to girls like me who grew up in a trailer home full of sin.
And that’s why I’m standing here now, unshaken. Jordan might be a ghost from my past, but he doesn’t get to haunt my future anymore and I’m much stronger than I used to be.
