Page 36 of The Runaway and the Rugged
From the corner of my eye, I captured the dramatic roll of Garth’s eyes as he pinned them heavily on Greta, then jumped over to me as if to catch my reaction.
“Oh, she’s not fuckin’ joking either.”
Oh.
The smile on my face faltered slightly.
“Where… Where is he right now?” I hesitated to ask, but I knew it was something I needed to know in order to ease some of my anxiety.
“At the cabin with Clarke,” she answered. “Told her to make sure he doesn’t set foot outside or get his hands on anyone.”
Oh god.
“Get his hands on anyone?”
Greta blew out a long breath, her body expelling all the tension in her muscles.
“I’ve been around my fair share of hot-tempered men, and that man right there is one more ‘calm down’ away before he kills someone with his bare hands.”
My stomach lurched as an icy grip settled in the pit of my gut. I expected anger. I expected rage and a reluctance to listen to anyone around him, but hearing he was more than just furious but downright murderous had me gripped with dread at the thought of him discovering the truth.
Locking eyes with Garth, I hoped for some sort of relief. For something other than the gut-turning reality of what I’d done.And like a domino effect, my decision was affecting all those around me. Even Garth was somehow now thrown into my mess and was slowly becoming a comfort that I knew I had no right to have. I was only trying to do what's best for me, but why the hell did I feel so terrible about it?
“Oh god,” I grumbled, leaning forward with my palm flying to cover my mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Although Greta was already standing and the closest to me, Garth shot out of his chair and went to his knees beside me.
“Whoa, hold on there, Outlaw. Just relax, all right?” His tone was that of a worried father while his expression revealed uncertainty. Tight, strained features had stretched down the length of his neck, but it was the flare of apprehension in his gaze that began tugging at my chest.
His hands then flexed on the cushion just beside where I laid as if he were fighting the urge to reach out to me.
Calm me.
Which was ironic because he had no problem manhandling me onto the back of Ella or in front of Greta. What was holding him back now?
With my hand still covering my mouth, I was too caught up in Garth’s unnecessary concern to let my stomach fully take over.
“Greta, go get a bowl from inside,” Garth told Greta without taking his eyes away from me.
Jesus, he’s handsome.
I hadn’t realized until now that I was breathing like I had just completed a marathon. Chest climbing and falling to the beat of my heart, I gradually lowered my hand into the center of my lap.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, my voice meek and unpersuasive. “I’m okay,” I repeated, but both Garth and Greta appeared reluctant to accept my words.
Moments later, Greta was gently shoving her brother to the side from where he was hunkered down on his knees beside me. With an unenthusiastic grunt, he rose to his feet and let Greta take his place.
“Emelia, darlin’, I’m goin’ to need you to woman the fuck up for me and calm down, all right?” she demanded in a no-nonsense Southern twang that had me immediately catching my breath.
It was a splash of cold water to the face. A slap of reality.
“Be easy, Greta. Jesus,” Garth growled, and as much as it made my heart flutter from his protectiveness, I knew Greta was right. For seven long years, I’ve remained on the sidelines of my own life. Watching mindlessly as life passed me by with nothing in return but too afraid, too powerless, to do anything about it until now. And even now I wasn’t so sure of myself.
“There you go, just try to relax and breathe normally.” She calmly began to coax me into a synchronized breathing exercise with her. In and out, I followed her movements until the only thing I could hear was the steady thumping of my heart.
“I’m sorry.”
I’m sure she was tired of my apologies, but it seemed to be all I could muster up.
