Page 1 of Protector

ONE

ADAM

“Come on, Bates.” I toss the now-empty beer bottle into one of the trash cans and shake my head again at Teddy Sheldon as he and Michael Rich try to get me to leave the street dance in town and head out to the lake.

It’s Kensley Days. Right before school starts. The end of the summer. It’s a whole thing in this town. They start with bingo and biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Then there’s a small carnival and booths set up with homemade shit people bring over from other towns to sell.

It all ends with a pig roast and barbecue for dinner, followed by a street dance. A dance literally in the middle of the street with a live band. We go every year. The entire town.

Because it’s tradition. And I’m a man of tradition. The Bates family is a staple in this town, going back to my great-great-grandfather. We own land here. We farm the land. We provide.

My entire family is here—minus my brother Jameson. He’s busy being shacked up and in love with his former teammate, Garrison Dixon. Fucking crazy. But no, it doesn’t bother me. Not at all. I’m happy for my brother.

But maybe I’m a little disappointed he wanted out of Kensley so badly and didn’t want anything to do with the land our family owns—our legacy. He’d rather live in Hayes and work in landscaping than farm the land. Which is fine.

He didn’t want this life, but it’s all I’ve ever wanted. There’s nothing wrong with tradition. Not in my opinion.

And speaking of tradition, every damn year, it’s my best friend, Zachary, and me at this street dance. Both of us always avoid actually dancing—neither of us like people all that much. We keep to ourselves for the most part, and that’s just fine with me. Except right now, I can’t find my best friend.

Last time I saw him was an hour ago, heading to get us some food while we hung out with some of the guys from the team who can’t seem to take the hint that we don’t want to leave the dance to go to the lake to party.

Yeah, I’ll have a beer here and there, but I don’t go and get shitfaced. I rarely go to any parties. It’s just not my thing. I have to get up early every morning. I have responsibilities.

And I take them seriously. Someday, that farm will be mine, and I intend for it to be in the absolute best shape when that happens. I want to make sure I can take care of my parents in their golden years. Let them rest, for once in their lives.

It won’t be Jameson who does that. It’ll be me. And that’s honestly the way I prefer it. I thought for sure, I’d have to battle my brother for that right, but he didn’t want it.

I do.

“I’m not going to the lake,” I say again as my teammates try yet again to get me to ditch the street dance.

“Come the fuck on.” Teddy pushes my shoulder, irritating the hell out of me. “I’m sure Olson is probably already out there. Probably getting laid, which is what you need to be doing too.”

I roll my eyes at that. First of all, Zach would never ditch me here and certainly not to go to the lake. Not to get laid or to do anything else. But second of all, why the hell is everyone always so concerned about getting me laid? I just turned eighteen yesterday.

Know what I did for my eighteenth birthday?

Exactly what I wanted to do. I woke up. I did my chores. I showered. Had breakfast with my family, and then I hung out with Zach at the lake—swimming. Which is all I wanted to do before I dragged my tired ass back home and into bed. To do it all again today.

“Just go,” I say, waving them off as I find my way through the crowd, looking for Zach. I swear I find everyone else. My parents. Parents of my friends. Some friends. Some guys I played football with but who have graduated since.

Where the hell is Zach?

I navigate through the crowded main street, and that’s when I see him. Sitting across the street at the park on the damn carousel. I make my way across the street and grip the handles of the carousel—they used to be painted blue but are now mostly rust. “What the hell are you doing over here all by yourself?”

My tone isn’t stern—not with Zach. It never is with Zach. He looks up at me with his emerald eyes, his dark hair a total mess like he’s had one hell of a night. I realize then that his eyes are rimmed in red, looking tired and worn like no eighteen-year-old ever should.

“What’s going on?” I sit down next to him, my shoes in the dirt.

“Nothing.”

“Liar,” I say easily as I turn my head to look at him.

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Saw Chloe.”

Goddammit. Of course that’s what’s going on. Look, I don’t dislike Chloe. Not really. But they broke up years ago. She needs to let it go, but she can’t seem to. She runs her mouth all the damn time about how Zach is a shitty person and was a terrible boyfriend—which for the record, I was there, and he wasn’t a bad boyfriend at all.

He treated her like a queen, but they grew apart. When he broke things off with her, she lost it. Completely. And she hasn’t let up since.

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