Page 25 of Long Hard Ride
“Get the fuck off of her,” I roar with blinding fucking rage. The asshole turns, his face white as a ghost. He starts to make a move, but I grab him by the shoulders, hurling him off the bed and smashing him against the wall.
“Brooke’s mine now, you fucker,” I growl, seeing hot sparks flash before my eyes as he shakes his head, dazedly trying to stand. Before he gets to his feet, I grab him and bash him against the wall again. “Mine. Mine. Mine. Get that, fucker?” I lift him by the shirt collar, ready to crack his skull.
“You have no idea who I am,” the little fuck shouts, wildly trying to connect his fist to my face, so I bash him against the wall again.
“I’m going to wipe the fucking floor with you,” I hiss. “Did you touch her?” He reaches down and grabs his pants before I shove him again and hear the back of his head connect with the wall. “Put your pants on you fuck.” I seethe and wait. “Did you lay one finger on her?”
“I was just about to eat her out, pops,” he spits. And Christ almighty, if I don’t get him out of my sight, I might just fucking kill him. My boiling blood is turning to into molten lava. My heart is racing out of control.
I put him in a headlock and kick the bedroom door the rest of the way with my boot.
“Brooke’s my girlfriend. That’s what we do, asshole.” Steve loses his footing as I drag him down the hall. He tries to get out of my hold, but no dice. I’m twice the size of this little prick. I could break his bones with my pinky finger.
“She’s not your girlfriend, you little shit.” I tighten my hold, to make sure he’s losing air, and yank him out the front door.
“Brooke is mywife, and don’t you ever forget that.” A sharp pain hits my heart as I say the words. Christ, I almost fall to my knees. That baby girl in there is mywife.
Is it possible that I’m not only protecting Brooke because it’s the right thing to do? Is it possible I’m falling inlovewith little Brooke Carlisle?
An image of her at ten flashes in my brain, before I shove him into his piece-of-shit car.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I say. “And if you want to live another day, don’t you ever come near Brooke again.”
“What’s it to you?” he yells out the window. “I’m not going to take your half. Brooke and I will be happy with the ranch and our hundred acres.”
“You lowlife lying piece of scum.” I’m tempted to reach into that pile of junk and bash the little fuck’s head against the steering wheel, but the sheriff and I have other plans for him. “There is noour,scumbag. What did you do to her in there?”
“Nothin’, old man. I just gave her something to make her relax.”
He starts the engine, and I storm the car so I’m close enough to reach in and take the keys if I need to. “I’m going to ask you again. What the fuck did you give her?”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly, as if it’s a ridiculous question. “Roofie, if you must know. Something I got from a friend, and it’s none of your fucking business, pops.”
I’m breaking into a sweat and desperate to get back to Brooke. “Get the fuck out of here.” I kick the car instead of punching the smirk off his face. “You heard me—get the fuck out!” I kick the door again, and he finally takes off.
I watch the idiot pull out of the driveway and make sure he doesn’t turn around.
Then I pull out my phone and text the photo of the license to Sheriff Gunner. I’ve known Gunner Jackson for years.
I hit speed dial and hustle back to the house. Gunner picks up on the second ring. I gave him a heads-up as soon as I found out Steve was planning a trip to West Palomino. The original plan was to let Steve arrive and get comfortable with his surroundings so his guard would be down. He’d be easier to catch that way. I don’t mention the fact that Steve was so goddamn comfortable with his surroundings he had Brooke’s skirt up around her waist. After Gunner assures me he’s going to nab Steve and call me later, I hang up. I’m already back in the bedroom.
Fuck. Seeing her like this shatters my heart into little bits. My poor princess is still lying on the bed in the position I left her in.
“Brooke,” I say softly. I snatch a blanket off the other bed and cover her with it.
Then I crouch low, next to her beautiful face. My arm sinks into the soft blanket as I reach for her. “Brooke,” I whisper again, taking her hand.
“Brooke.” I brush the hair off her forehead. “You okay, sweetheart?” Rationally, I know she isn’t going to answer me, but hell if I don’t ask again. “Brooke.” My heart stays suspended in air thick with worry. At this point, I just want her to open her eyes. She doesn’t have to say anything.
I run my fingers through her silky hair. “Brooke,” I say in an even tone, gently shaking her. Her eyes flutter, and my heart leaps out of my skin with relief. She searches the room and then focuses her glassy gaze on me.
“Hey,” she murmurs drowsily, giving me a smile, and it’s fucking daylight again and birds are singing.
“There you are. How are you feeling?”
“Really tired.” She closes her eyes and sinks deeper into the pillow.
“I’ll bet. Are you hurt anywhere?” I stroke her velvet arm.
