She doesn’t answer.
“I’m sorry. That’s irrelevant at this point.” I exhale. I know she’d been to The Oasis a couple of times. I should’ve known my brother would latch onto something as shiny and pretty and new as Leighton Hart. It’s my fault for not warning her. Everything’s always my fucking fault. Brushing her hair from her face, I make a promise. “I’m going to hurt him for doing this to you, I swear to God.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “It’s not worth it.”
“He had no right.” I pace the entryway, seeing red one minute and black the next. “He can’t touch you like that. He’s got to pay. It’s time he pays.”
“He said if I told anyone, you’d be the one to suffer,” she says, voice cracked. “River, what did he mean by that?”
I stop, hands on my hips and eyes on the floor. I know exactly what he means, and I’m getting to the point where I’m starting to no longer give a fuck.
He’s held this over my head for years.
And there’s only one way to bring an end to it. There’s only one way to strip him of the power he’s wielded over me far too fucking long.
“Seth likes to make threats,” I say. “Who the fuck knows what he meant.”
“No,” she says. “The look in his eyes, River. You should’ve seen it.”
“He was just trying to scare you.” I head to the mudroom, pulling on a pair of utility boots and grabbing my truck keys off the hook.
“Where are you going?” Leighton stands in the doorway, the blanket tight around her shoulders and a wild look in her eyes.
“Going to right some wrongs,” I say. “I’ll be back.”
Hopefully.
“Please don’t go.” Her request is a desperate whisper, and our eyes lock. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Fuck.
Taking a seat on a wooden bench, I kick my shoes away and rest my elbows on my knees. I can’t leave her, not like this.
Not when she needs me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Leighton
I stay in the bath until the last of the scalding hot water swirls the drain and my damp body shivers in a blanket of icy, air-conditioned air. Peeling myself out of the claw foot tub, I wrap myself in a pale blue bath sheet and confront my reflection in the mirror.
My clean skin might be marred with teeth marks and evidence of Seth from hours ago, but with time they’ll fade.
Returning to my room, I dress in a fresh tank top and thin cotton shorts before crawling under the covers and sliding a book off the nightstand. Under the glow of a small lamp, I scan the words on the page, mostly going through the motions and not giving the sentences a chance to make any sense before moving on to the next.
“Leighton?” There’s a small knock at the door.
“Yes?”
The door swings and River stands before me, his face covered in concern. “Just seeing if you need anything before I go to bed.”
Closing my book, I place it aside, exhaling.
“You doing okay?” he asks. “You still seem a little out of it.”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “Feeling a little numb? I think I’m still in shock.”
He enters the room, standing at the foot of the bed as he studies me. “I imagine that was traumatic for you.”
I nod, glancing down at limp hands resting in my lap. “To say the least.”
“You let me know if I can do anything.”
My eyes flick to his, my words catching on the tip of my tongue for a moment, trapped in hesitation.
“Will you sit with me for a little while?” I finally manage to ask. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep too well tonight. Just sit and talk with me? Until I fall asleep?”
He seems to mull it over, his lips pinched and brows furrowed. “I can do that.”
Moving to the side of the queen bed, I pat the spot next to me and hand him one of the pillows. River takes a seat, his body stiff and uncomfortable, like a dog being forced to sit against his will.
But I appreciate it nonetheless.
Sliding under the covers, I roll to my side and prop my head against my hand, staring up at him. He’s so tall and rugged, all muscle, sun-kissed skin, and the darkest eyelashes I’ve ever seen. He’s handsome in a vintage movie star kind of way, but I don’t even think he knows it.
“Thank you,” I say.
He peers down at me. “For what?”
“For being so good to me.”
He shrugs, like he doesn’t want to take credit for any of this.
“I know you don’t think you’re a good person, River, but you are. You’re a really good man, even if you can’t see it,” I say.
His jaw flexes, tensing at the sound of my words, and he refuses to look at me. I’ll stop gushing because I don’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he clearly already is.
“Almost feels like someone was watching over me today,” I say, rolling to my back and staring at the ceiling. “Seth had me pressed against this door, and something inside told me to go for the knob. If it opened to the inside, I knew we’d fall back and he’d land on me, but I also knew it was the only chance I had at getting away. I twisted that knob and sure enough, we fell back, and I got away.” I pull at a thread in the white floral quilt that covers me. “It could’ve been so much worse, River.”
“You got lucky, that’s for sure.”
“I’ve lived through some stuff, but I don’t know how I could’ve lived through something like that,” I say, “had he … continued.” I swallow the lump lodged in my throat as my mind replays what might have been for the hundredth time tonight.
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” River glances down at me again, his eyes holding mine.
“And how would you know?”
“Because you can’t know strong unless you’ve known weak,” he says. “And I’ve known weak. I’ve known the hell out of weak.”
“You’re kind to say that.”
“Not being kind, just being honest.”
“Either way,” I say, scooting down and placing my head in the middle of my pillow. Exhaustion washes over me, but I’m almost too tired to sleep and my mind is still much too busy to allow sleep to come easily. Yawning, I start to say something, but he shushes me, reaching over me to switch off the lamp.
“Quiet now,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere. Just rest.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
River
I stayed with her all night, leaving her room early this morning before the sun came up. She needed the sleep, and I decided she’s better off recuperating in a quiet house than feeding bucket calves and lugging pails of grain to hungry mares.
Pulling up to the Fasthorse place, I park my truck at the side of Guy’s barn and climb out. He called me this morning asking if I could help him tag some cows since his oldest son is away at church camp for the week.
“Morning.” I replace my hat as I approach a corral full of calves.
“You ready?” Guy asks, securing the chute. “Shouldn’t take long. Don’t have a ton in this herd.”
Molly comes out from the barn, work boots up to her knees and a big smile on her face.
“Hey, stranger,” she teases. “Haven’t seen you in forever.”