“Greta, step aside,” Hix ordered, his hand to my waist trying to make that so.
But I held steady even if I wanted to scream or stamp my foot or at least glare at him, because he was ready to throw down and not only did he not know what was happening (as, I will point out, neither did I), he didn’t even know who Keith was (though, he was the sheriff, he probably could guess).
“Calm down, Hix,” I hissed and looked to Keith. “Step back, Keith.”
“Greta, move,” Keith growled.
“No!” I snapped then shouted, “Step back, Keith! Right now!”
His eyes cut down to mine. “Do not protect this man. I know what he is. I know he’s got you twisted up. And I know I’m gonna get you free.”
“Okay, that. That right there,” I stated, shoving into Keith’s chest (who also didn’t budge) standing firm between them, my other hand still to Hix’s chest, “needs to be explained because I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“You do,” Keith retorted.
“I do not,” I asserted.
“Then you’re twisted up more than Tawnee said you were.”
God!
My mother!
“Keith, you realize you’re spouting shit Mom told you, and first, you know anything she says is suspect, and second, you know anything she says that’s suspect is also bullshit. So putting that together, pretty much everything out of her mouth is pure bullshit.”
“I have pictures,” he declared.
“Pictures of what?” I asked.
At that, thankfully, he stepped back (though unfortunately not very far), his gaze slicing to Hix’s face as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket.
He engaged it not looking at it but eventually looked down only to lift it up and turn it our way.
I was pretty certain I gasped but I was too busy staring in complete and utter disbelief with a healthy mingling of being creeped right the fuck out at the picture on the screen.
It was of me with the shiner Andy gave me. I was walking from my Cherokee toward the salon.
“Not enough?” Keith asked snidely, but I didn’t take my eyes from the screen when his finger came up and he swiped the picture to the side.
My stomach dropped at what I saw next, and Hix growled, “Jesus Christ,” from behind me as we were treated to a picture of Hix pinning me up against the shelves at the grocery store, the photo taken during the part where he had his hand locked on my neck and his face right in mine.
“Want more?” Keith asked antagonistically, and another swipe showed a photo of me with my nose completely taped up after the kitchen incident, the photo taken while Hix was escorting me to his Bronco that Monday in order to take me to the hospital to have my dressing changed.
“More?” Keith went on, swiping again, and we had a photo of me, again walking into the salon, but this time with only tape on my nose, however the bruising under my eyes was horrendous. “I don’t know what hold this asshole has on you, Greta, but it ends now.”
I looked from the phone to him, feeling Hix pressing into my hand in his chest so I removed it but moved in a way his chest was now pressing into my back and I was returning that, leaning into him.
“Keith, Hix didn’t do those things to me.”
“Yeah, your mother said you’d say that. Small town, fucked-up, shady sheriff gettin’ away with fucking with women. He’s got power. He’s got authority. He’s got ways to fuck with your life and make bad shit turn nasty, so you can’t get away.” His gaze lifted beyond me to Hix. “Wife got fed up, yeah? Took years of it then finally kicked your ass out? So you had to go lookin’ for fresh meat.”
“Greta, sort this guy out,” Hix growled from behind me.
“Keith, look at me,” I ordered.
He didn’t look at me.
He kept his eyes on Hix and stated, “You got ten seconds to move out, motherfucker. You don’t, I’ll move you out, and if I have any problems with you and your deputies, trust me, my lawyers will make mincemeat of you and these pictures will hit every paper from Iowa to Nevada.”
“Greta,” Hix warned.
“Keith, look at me.”
It took him a second before he did, his face held its wrath but then softened a little before he said, “Honey, it’s okay. It’s over. Please come here.”
“Andy gave me that black eye.”
He shook his head. “Don’t do that. Don’t cover for him. He may have power here, baby, but he can’t abuse it this way and I’ll see he learns that.”
“I had Andy for the weekend. It rained.”
Keith’s frame visibly tightened.
He knew about Andy and rain.
“That broken nose, I’m sorry, I hate to share it with you this way, but I had an admirer from the club, he turned out to be a creep and he attacked me in my kitchen. He broke my nose. I got away. I went to Hix. His kids took care of me as he and his deputy arrested the guy and now that guy is serving five years in the Nebraska State Penitentiary. That’s on record so it’d be easy for you to validate, not to mention, it was reported in the local paper. As for the black eye, you’d have to ask Andy. If he remembers, he’ll tell you. But it upset him he did it so I’d rather him not be reminded of it if he’s forgotten.” I licked my lips and hurried on, “Mom lied, Keith. We’ve had some run-ins since she’s come here and she’s upping her game. She’s screwing with me, with Hix, with Andy and now . . . with you.”
He stared at me.
“It’s true and I’m sorry,” I carried on. “I’m so, so sorry she fed you those terrible stories but they aren’t true. That picture of me and Hix in the grocery store was the first time he saw me with the black eye. Mom’s seeing the local meth cooker and Hix was worried they’d worked me over. He was a little distressed. But it isn’t what it looks like. He was just really concerned for me.”
Keith just stared at me some more.
So I kept explaining. “She . . . well, she clearly has it out for Hix, probably because he arrested her when she was making a scene at Sunnydown, and you know Mom. She’s not a big fan of not getting her way and obviously, pulling her crap and it being a misdemeanor means the local sheriff can intervene and she won’t get her way. So he was already in her sights, us, um . . . being together. But obviously he’s now a target and that’s just . . . that.”
Keith said nothing and kept staring at me.
“I’m telling the truth, honey,” I said softly. “And I think you know that. She can get ugly, and you know that as well as me. But lately, she’s ratcheted that up to unprecedented levels as, obviously,” I threw a hand lamely his way, “you’re seeing.”
It took a second of him staring at me some more before his jaw went hard(er). He looked to the side, lifted his hand like he was going to do what he did when he got frustrated and tear it through his hair. Instead it dropped and his gaze scored through Hix before coming back to me.
“You got attacked in your kitchen?” Keith asked.
“I’m okay now.”
“You got attacked in your kitchen.” It was a statement this time, anger warring with not a small amount of pain I heard threading through it, but also saw on his face.
I knew that pain.