Page 96 of Rival
Without slowing down, he glances over his shoulder and flashes a smile that spells out death and destruction. “Got a man to see about a horse.”
“I’m goin’ with you. Ya’ll can park at my ranch if you want.”
Clued in, I nod quickly and follow them out of town, riding silently and glancing often to the seat next to me. Seeing Edith spread out before me across that seat is ingrained in my head and I can’t help but think I’ve ruined every chance I had with her just by opening my mouth.
“I don’t want any fucking part of that kid, especially if it’s got Hughes’ blood in its veins. When you manage to push it out, I’ll submit to a test and if it turns out to be mine, all you’ll get is money. Nothing more.”
I’ve never regretted saying something more in my life. The news of who her father rocked me to my core, but I know her well enough to know she doesn’t have a manipulative bone in her body. Iknowthis. So why the fuck did I let my two decades old hurt pour out as if she was responsible for it?
Clayborn’s sins aren’t hers to bear, and I made her think they were. I don’t even deserve a chance to be the father of her baby, but fuck if the idea isn’t burying its roots deep inside.
I blame the whiskey, but a realization strikes me hard, and I sit up straighter.
Did he hurt the baby?Ruth said she’s bruised up, broken nose, but what about the baby?
“Fuck.”
Shifting so I can grab my cellphone, I call the only person with information, and as soon as she answers, I’m blurting out my question.
“Is the baby okay? When Cl—whenhehurt her, did he… Is the baby okay? Did she go to the hospital and get checked over?”
There’s a pause, then shuffling as if she’s moving the phone to her other ear. Then Ruth sighs loudly.
“She went to the hospital. The baby seems to be fine.” Closing my eyes in relief, I find my throat is closing up, clogged with emotion. Since I don’t say anything else, she ends the call. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Bye,” I rasp out, then throw my phone to the side.
Relief is all I can think about until we’re hopping out of our respective trucks. Griffin immediately starts toward the trees at the edge of the property and Mason is following, only glancing toward me briefly.
Running to catch up, I keep my voice low as we pick our way through the wooded area separating their properties. “How do you know he’s home?”
“I don’t. But I’m gonna find out.” Griffin’s nonchalant shrug seems as if he’s unperturbed by this whole situation, but if I study him closer, it’s obvious how tense he is. To my left, Mason has a hard glower as he stares ahead.
Choosing to keep quiet, we finish our trek. As soon as the house comes into view, I wrinkle my nose as I glace around. The whole place looks run down and loaded with junk. It doesn’t seem as if it’s been touched for the twenty years since I last stepped foot on this property.
Picking a key out from between two rocks, both Mason and I scowl as Griffin uses it to unlock the door. As he returns it, he pauses when he catches us. “What?”
“How do you know where the key is?” I ask, not liking how familiar he is with Edith’s home.
With an eye roll, he doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls the door open and holds it open so the two of us can head in first. The first thing to hit me is the stale scent of cigarettes and memories about bring me to my knees. My eyes dart to the wall where I took my fists to Clayborn until my dad pulled me away.
Since I’m breathing harshly, Griffin raises a brow, silently asking if I’m alright. All I can do is shake my head to brush him off. I’mnotfucking okay, but fuck both of them if I’m going to have a breakdown right now, no less in front of them.
“Where’s his room?” Mason asks quietly. When Griffin points toward a door in the corner, Mason pushes his way past and peeks inside.
Pulling back, he’s sporting a massive grin spread all the way across his face. “Our man of the hour is takin’ a bit of a nap. Looks like he got out early.”
Whatever they say after is lost to me as I surge forward and barrel through the door, not giving a shit when the door slams into a dresser, sending shit crashing to the floor.
Clayborn jerks upright, confused and growling. “Fuckin’ girl,” he bites out, before his eyes grow round.
Without waiting, I throw myself on top of him, my balled fist the first part of my body to connect. His movements are slow and sluggish, but it doesn’t take long for him to go into fight mode and he starts swinging.
“Clay, buddy!” Griffin sings, plopping on the bouncing bed to our side while I aim every hit I can into the most sensitive areas I’m able to reach. When Griffin ducks to avoid Clayborn’s flyingarm, he grabs it to pin to the bed. “I’ll keep this safe for you right here,friend.”
I can hear Mason yelling something behind me, but a haze takes over me as I do my best to end this worthless sack of shit. It feels like forever as I expel every ounce of rage on him, but it couldn’t have been too long because the fucker is still breathing.
“Move,” Mason grits out, shoving me to the side where I roll to my back and catch my breath. Staring at the cracked ceiling, I let sounds of grunts and flesh being pounded envelop me as I feel myself circling the drain.
