Page 93 of Needing Your Love
Worm.
“No,” I whispered, refusing to stay in the past where Dad’s voice dug claws into me, attempting to imprison me in the horror of my memories.
Kurt continued his screaming a few feet away from me, helping to keep me in the present, but I was fucked. I’d seen enough law enforcement and reality shows to know how this conflict between two men supposedly in love with one woman would end.
Cops would surround the building, attempting to negotiate with the unhinged drunkard hell-bent on protecting his lover.
Stefen would trigger Kurt somehow, and shots would fire, gun smoke filling the air. Sarah would be prompted by shame to try to protect her abuser from the police and accidentally get hit by a bullet. Even though I wouldn’t be able to scramble to safety, I would be a witness to Kurt’s crimes. I alone would be the only person left living to doom him to his death with my testimony.
He would end me before I got a chance. I would become a victim when I had taken no part in any of their sins.
Gram and DJ would mourn me, seeing as they were the only family I had left.
Sutton...
A sob ripped from my chest, a whining wail that pulled Kurt’s gun my way. “Oh, God. Please,” I begged with a teary whimper, praying like fuck Sarah remained hidden back in the aisle, that Stefen would keep his goddamned mouth shut until my hero showed up. The oak of Pippen Creek would protect us?—
No.
Not this time.
He was at home—withher, his concern focused on the person who had never loved him like I did.
Same as that day Dad tried to kill his faggot son, no one was coming to save the day.
Tears soaked my cheeks as the past dragged me back into its clutches again.
Chapter 35
Sutton
My Bronco’s tires squealed as I jerked the wheel to tear down Main Street, swerving around cars since I didn’t have lights or a siren to warn them out of my way.
Heart racing as fast as the engine, I sent out prayers to whichever gods might be listening to keep my baby boy safe. I’d only just allowed myself to love again—for real this time—the type of devotion that consumed a soul and owned a man’s heart.
I hadn’t yet found the guts to tell him my truth.
“Please,” I whispered, hands in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
Two cruisers already angled in front of Stefen’s shop, and I swerved in behind them, slamming on the brake and hopping out of my truck without turning the engine off.
Pulling my gun from my waistband, I hunched over and rushed toward the entrance.
Screams sounded from inside, curses and warnings to stay back.
Dozens of people littered the area, some hidden in case bullets flew, others standing upright and pointing, gossiping with those beside them.
“Take cover!” I hollered at the morons, so goddamned disappointed in my townsfolk who couldn’t smell danger even if it rotted like roadkill beneath their noses. We’d never had such an event. Peace was our norm.
Hadbeen.
A sense of immense change hung on the horizon of our futures, the kind that clenched my guts and worried at my mind. I was in charge yet felt powerless over the hurricane force winds pushing us forward toward an unseen future.
Officer Davidson crouched on the far side of the door, gun drawn, face pale.
I hurried up the stairs and huddled beside him, heart slamming.
“Sent Jones around to the rear,” he said, tone tight and quiet. “No shots fired—yet. Wallace has Stefen held at gunpoint, and it’s only a matter of time, Chief. The guy is out of his mind. Fucking batshit crazy. You should hear some of the shit he’s spewing.”
