Page 59 of Rival
Jealousy. That’s what I’m feeling right now. I’m fucking jealous of a horse and the way she runs her hand over him gives me visions of her doing the same to me.
Pissed and annoyed, I snap at her. “Are you gonna come with me, or are you gonna fawn all over my fuckin’ horse?”
Jerking her hand away, she blushes and chews on her lip. “S-Sorry. I’m ready.”
With a roll of my eyes, I reach my hand out. As soon as she slips her fingers against mine, I tighten my hold and yank her up.
Apparently, herfriendhas been teaching her well because she doesn’t scramble as much this time as she settles in the saddle, much more comfortable doing it.
Waiting for her to get comfortable in front of me, I decide to say fuck it and let her know I’m in control today. My arm wraps around her waist and I haul her back against me, this time not caring if her ass lands directly on my cock.
Edith hisses out a low breath but doesn’t fight my hold when I drive my heels into Austin’s flank and we take off for the end of the property.
We don’t speak, but I don’t think I could if I wanted to. My cock grows hard under her ass with every shift she makes to stay upright as we ride.
And maybe I take the extra-long way to our destination, keeping a hold of her the entire time.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Edith
“Girl!Get your ass down here!”
My father’s voice rattles the walls in my small, half bathroom across the hall from my room. This bathroom and my bedroom are the only two spaces up here, both with slanted ceilings from the slope of the roof.
I drop my toothbrush into a cup and quickly rinse my mouth, making it downstairs as quickly as I’m able. My father is sitting at the table, lacing up his boots jerkily, probably because his hands are shaking. That’s been a common thing I’ve noticed after a night of heavy drinking. He has the shakes and is extra temperamental.
“I’m here. What did you ne—”
“Get your shoes on and get in the van. We’re goin’ to the big store on the other side of Ridges to stock up. I don’t wanna go in there, so I’m gonna drop you off at the front.” He doesn’t look at me as he delivers his plan, and I bite my lip, wondering how I can let Mason know I’ll be late heading over to work this morning. It’s barely six in the morning and I’m actually shocked my father is up this early.
Deciding I’ll just have to apologize when we get back, I nod once and hurry to obey my father. The first thing I notice is he doesn’t even wait to peel out of the drive before I have my seatbelt fastened, not like Jaxon. Every time I’ve ridden with him, he doesn’t even turnonthe truck until I’m buckled in.
Gripping the armrest, I white knuckle the door as the tail end of our old van fishtails down the long drive. Without slowing down, he jerks the wheel hard to the right to turn onto the road. He’s always been an erratic driver, so I’ve learned to keep my inhales of air as quiet as possible. I’ve made that mistake too many times to count. He always thinks I’m judging him.
A loud horn blares just as a large pick-up truck whips around us in the other lane, only to cut us off, stopping sideways in the road directly in front of us.
“This motherfucker! Goddamnit fuckin’ piece of shit!I’m gonna beat his worthless ass!” my father screams, slamming his hands on the wheel a few times before yanking it to the right so we don’t T-bone the truck. He brakes hard until we’re stopped. A cloud of dust billows around the van, and as soon as it clears from the breeze, I watch as an irate Mason storms over to the driver’s side where my father is sitting and wrenches the door open, the hinges screeching from the force.
“What kind of crazy maniac are you?” he shouts, fisting my father’s shirt and yanking him from the seat. “You about ran me off the road, you asshole!”
Instead of apologizing the way he should because my father was absolutely in the wrong, his meaty fist swings up hard and connects with Mason’s cheek, just to the right of his eye, slamming his knuckles into the edge of his brow.
I wince, grunting in sympathy for Mason as his skin very obviously splits. He growls loudly before throwing my father to the ground. Straddling his body, Mason pulls him up by the griphe still has on his shirt and gets in his face, blood dripping onto his cheek.
“What is God’s name is wrong with you? I’m gonna sue your fuckin’ ass for assault, you bastard! Where the hell you get off thinkin’ you can drive like a madman, then cop an attitude withmelikeI’vedone somethin’ wrong?” He raises his arm to hit my father back, which honestly is deserved, but I fumble for the handle of my door and practically fall out before running to them.
“Wait!Stop!” I plead, dropping heavily to my knees next to them and place my hands on Mason’s arm. “Ma—Mr. Cooper. Please stop before this gets worse.”
I’m begging him with everything inside of me, praying he won’t lay into my father because it will be bad for all of us if this continues. Clayborn Hughes has a mean streak easily fueled by vengeance, and this feud will only get worse if this escalates.
Both men twist their heads slowly to glare at me, pissed at my audacity to interrupt their fight. My father doesn’t move, probably out of shock that I reacted like this, and Mason incredulous that I would think he’d actually listen to me. Whatever he reads on my face must be enough because he bellows loudly in my father’s face before shoving him so his back hits the ground. Then he walks away.
I’m not sure what I should do, but assuming my father will want me to help him stand, I shuffle back and reach for his arm, but he pushes me so hard I land on my ass, letting out a softoomphas I hit the ground. Quickly, I glance at Mason, but he’s got his back to both of us, dabbing at his brow with a rag as he storms back to his truck.
“Fuck off, girl! I don’t need this shit and don’t think I’m gonna thank ya neither.” Standing on wobbly legs, he breathes heavily, and I’m hit with the sour smell of his breath. Closing my eyes, I realize he’s probably still half-drunk from last night.It would explain his erratic driving. Following him to the van, I pause before opening my door and peek over at Mason, who’s now inspecting his face in one of his side mirrors.
In the span of two breaths, my father turns over the engine and hits the gas, wheels squealing as he swings the vehicle around Mason’s truck, still idling sideways across the road. He hits the gravel along the side, kicking up pebbles. I turn my face to keep them from hitting me, and once they clear, I look back and see he’s already disappearing over the slight hill.
