Page 23 of The Cowboy Hitch

Who knows why exhaustion dominates your life for nine months, or is it twenty years? Either way, I’ve never known fatigue like this before and I’m only past the first trimester.

Tonight, the club was crazy, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball under the bar. Never mind the sticky shit on the floor; I didn’t care. All I wanted was sleep.

Still do. I could sleep for the rest of my life.

The men were plentiful and rowdy, and tonight was go, go, go. So much so, I had to skip my breaks because we were constantly backed up on the drink orders. And while the night’s behind me, thank goodness, the tips were amazing. I shouldn’t complain.

My hair sticks to the nape of my neck, damp and matted. A shower and bed… I am steps away from heaven.

Once on the second floor of the small, two-story, eight-unit building, I stop to catch my breath and wish, like I do every time, that there was an elevator. That’s when I freeze. A dark figure looms in front of my apartment door.

“Lacy Hallman,” the male shadow, voice deep and rough, calls.

Fear causes mayhem in my already sensitive stomach, and I squeeze the keys in my hand while the other tightens its grip on the railing. I could run. But I wouldn’t get too far. I’m exhausted, and I can’t risk it, not with the baby.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, imposing with a cowboy hat on but tipped down. Most likely deliberate because I can’t see his face. Slight movement behind him is another kick to the chest. He isn’t alone. There’s someone else with him, but I can’t make out who.

It doesn’t help that the overhead hallway lights are out. They don’t work and haven’t for weeks now. I’ve been after the super, Oz’s deadbeat nephew who’s supposed to maintain the building in exchange for free rent, to replace the lights.

“Lacy,” the man repeats, nearing me. “We just want to talk.”

“Not another step. Stay right where you are.” I inch back toward the stairs. “Who the hell are you?”

He pulls something from the pocket of his pants, and I prepare to run or scream “fire” or something when he flicks on a flashlight of what looks to be his phone. The bright beam shines in my direction, nearly blinding me.

“Get that thing out of my face,” I holler, now more mad than scared.

He casts the white light onto his face and that of the person who is now standing beside him.

Holy shit. Trey and Sage Kincaide.

This night. I wanted it to end before it began and figured it couldn’t get any worse. I was wrong. So very wrong.

The beam dips to the floor and stays there. Both of them stare expectantly at me.

“What do you want to talk about that couldn’t keep until daylight?” I don’t want to talk to either of them—not now, not ever—but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see them. “You showing up like this, standing in the dark outside a woman’s home, that’s just wrong. Were you looking to scare me half to death?”

I don’t hide my irritation. I’ve never been one to hold my tongue and I’m not going to start now. Especially not for the likes of the Kincaides. Tired and grumpy, these people are keeping me from my bed, and I’m more than sure that nothing good will come from this.

“Apologies. You’re a hard woman to get alone. Went to Oz’s, hoping to catch you on a break, but you were always behind the bar.” Trey places his hands on his hips, dipping his head in somewhat of a humble gesture.

My heart speeds up at his words. He was at the club tonight? Was Sage there too? Why didn’t I see them? Why would they go there? A cold chill skates up my spine, only confirming the dread mounting within me.

“Let’s go inside.” Sage slides out from behind Trey, mirroring him with her hands on her hips.

Are they trying to intimidate me? I can’t make out her features because of the darkness, but I can imagine her eyes narrowing into thin blade-like slits. She must be shooting daggers at me. It’s all there in her voice.

I swallow with difficulty, my throat suddenly parched, and the urge to vomit rears its ugly head again.

Not in my home. I don’t want these two in my house. This is my safe place, away from the likes of these vultures. Besides, it’s small and dingy. I’m not embarrassed of what is mine, though they’ll think it’s a hellhole.

“Talk here.” My arms cross my chest, and I will the little food in my stomach to stay put.

Trey sighs, Sage scoffs, and this cues my eye roll. For the first time since setting eyes on them, I’m grateful for the night and shadows. I can’t see her face.

“For God’s sakes, open the door. This is ridiculous. It’s bad enough we’re loitering in a hallway in the middle of the night.” Aggravation blankets her voice. “Let us in so we can talk. The sooner we do, the sooner we’re gone.”

They aren’t going anywhere until they get their way. This is clear to see and so typical of the Kincaides. Without another word, I unlock the door, step into my cool apartment, and flick on a light.

---