Page 27 of Destined Predator
It was good to talk to her. He’d explained, when they split, or at least he’d tried to, that he hadn’t been deceiving her, or himself. That he liked her. He shut up when the door opened and the bank teller—the nondescript man whose name Rhett never remembered—came in as usual on his break to sigh over Denice.
“Okay.” Olivia hopped down to get a packet of sugar—no, sweetener. “I kinda understand,” she went on, when she climbed back up again. “Well, more than I did, from the reading and studying I’m doing, you know? But…Casey, you say?”
“Did I say?”
“You did.” Olivia tapped the paper packet of sweetener against the back of her other hand then ripped it open to dump thecontents in her mug. The spoon clinking as she stirred grated on Rhett. “So?”
“So you sure you ain’t got me mixed up with my brother?” Rhett tried to stall. “He and Ben Akers are…whatever the kids are calling it nowadays.”
The coffee machine burped and hissed, brewing a fresh pot. The door being opened quickly and with more force than needed broke up that noise somehow. Rhett glimpsed the uniform out of the corner of his eye and put it together with the fresh coffee—the on-duty sheriff’s officer coming in. Olivia greeted him and did a quick catch-up. Rhett signaled for Denice, about to cave in and ask her for some aspirin—she carried everything in her uniform pockets—when a name caught his attention.
“Akers?” he demanded of Olivia. “What’s happened?”
“The autoshop got vandalized,” she replied. “Deputy’s handling it now.”
“That family.” Denice tsked. “Oh, I ain’t saying he ain’t a good mechanic or that the elder one ain’t a good builder, but—Rhett?You okay, hun?”
The world tilted a fraction, the lights from the counter flaring too bright, like heat shimmer on asphalt. Casey’s name flickered through his head again, sharp as a blade and gone before he could catch it.
No. He wasn’t. He’d stood, and was swaying, his hands on the counter so he didn’t keel over.
“I said he looked pale!” Olivia exclaimed.
“Headache,” Rhett muttered. “All-over headache.”
Olivia tried to smile at his feeble joke but didn’t manage. “Give me your keys,” she demanded, her hand out. “I’m taking you home.”
Chapter Twelve
Olivia drove as fast as was safe—which was a snail’s pace by Rhett’s usual standards, not to mention his usual speed—and it took forever to get out to the Double T.
“Still not sure I shouldn’t be taking you to the hospital,” she said at the crossroads, eyeing the right and the route to Fallon County General.
“Was there the other day,” Rhett muttered. “Not going again. Be fine at home.” Although he felt worse the farther he got from the town, which was weird. He couldn’t tell if it was the miles or the minutes, just that something inside him kept tugging the wrong way, like a rope he couldn’t see was pulled from the opposite direction. He’d always thought he felt better on his own land. “’S’just one of those things.”
Tsking, she drove him to the ranch. As soon as she pulled the Silverado up to the house, Rhett wrenched open the passenger door and almost tumbled out. He stumbled, twisting andslamming his hands on the truck to keep himself upright. He forced his body to stand straight when Olivia rounded the truck and willed his mouth to obey his brain.
“Thanks, Livvy. I feel a little better already. Guess I could be coming down with something. Well, you did tell me not to go eating my own cooking…”
“Nice try, Rhett.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “Phil?” she called across to the figure in the distance, ignoring Rhett’s feeble attempts to brush things off.
“Olivia?” Phil sounded delighted as he jogged over, until he saw Rhett. “What’s the what here? Tell me you didn’t sock him one, little lady? Although, I’d have to say I understand if ya did…”
Rhett scowled, but Phil’s usual almost-humor had him feeling more normal. Or maybe it was just being back on Tucker land, as he’d told Olivia he needed…and wanted so much to believe. “Ha-ha. Remind me to cut your next bonus for that. No, Olivia kindly brought me home. I wasn’t feeling none too clever. Phil, could ya give her a ride back to her car, in town?”
“Sure thing, soon as we get you inside, boss.”
“I can manage. And Jack’s still about, right?” No way were Olivia and Phil playing nursemaids to him. He promised to call Olivia later and waved her off, then staggered in through the main door, almost colliding with his brother in the hall. He held up a warning hand. “Don’t say anything, Jacky. Just gimme a hand here, okay?”
Jack mimed zipping his lips, for which Rhett was grateful, and slung an arm around Rhett to help him to his room.
“Bet you’re glad we live on a one-story ranch and not in some New York penthouse, huh?” Rhett joked. Or attempted to.
“There’d be an elevator.” Jack got him to his bed and stood back for him to sit on the edge, then swung his legs onto the mattress and helped him sit against the headboard. He pulledRhett’s boots and socks off for him before he fetched a jug of water, a glass and the medical box.
Rhett accepted a few aspirin but eyed the thermometer Jack was taking from its case. “Watch where you tell me to stick that, boy,” he warned him.
Jack shook his head then stuck the thermometer in Rhett’s mouth. “You look like Pa with a hangover,” he commented, although with little humor in his observation.
