Jerk: A Bad Boy Romance (11 page)

I owed Clay a thank you for his help.

He was still out there somewhere, working on the fences. I was guessing he’d lost track of time.

Unsure how to express my gratitude, I headed in the direction I’d last seen him go. A thick line of trees cut through the property between the two largest pastures on the ranch. I assumed, since the farthest fence was in most need of repair, I would find the guys somewhere back there. I pushed through the thinnest section of trees in time to catch Cockroach stumbling along, eyes as big as Texas, and face as pale as a corpse.

I grabbed his arm just as he was about to totter over. “What’s wrong?”

He wheezed and coughed. “I didn’t do it on purpose. It was an accident.”

“What?”

His knees buckled and he flopped onto the ground.

“Ohmygod!” I dropped to my knees and poked his neck, looking for a pulse, praying the old man hadn’t just dropped dead in front of me. I didn’t think I could live with the guilt of being responsible for a man’s death. Even if he was practically two hundred years old.

Remembering my cell phone, tucked in my pocket, I pulled it out and dialed 9-1-1 for help. As I was jabbering to the dispatcher like a deranged idiot, Cockroach came to.

“What the hell are ya doin’?” he yelled, shoving me away and pushing himself upright.

“Easy!” I said as I tried to keep him down. “You collapsed. An ambulance is on the way.”

“I don’t need no ambulance,” he snapped. “Go!” His arms swung like tree limbs being thrown around in a storm. “Go on!”

He must have had a stroke or something. He wasn’t thinking clearly.

“But you collapsed!”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with me. It’s Walker that needs help!”

“Walker?” I repeated. What did he mean? He was the one lying on the ground. Was he confused? Or...?

“Go, woman!” he shouted, smacking my cheek.

The impact startled me out of the cloud of confusion that had swallowed me. With my phone in hand, the dispatcher’s tiny voice squeaking out of the speaker, I started sprinting across the meadow, my gaze tracking along the fence line, searching for Clay. I had no idea what to expect. Cockroach had said something about an accident before he’d passed out. What happened? Where was Clay?

My lungs on fire, I tripped and stumbled across the pasture. We hadn’t been able to let the steer out into this pasture because of the fence, and so the grass was very tall. It wrapped around my ankles. In the distance, the whine of a siren echoed.

Still, I saw no sign of Clay.

I literally crashed into a section of fence before I saw it. Then I turned right and kept running. The fucking grass was killing me, snagging my boots. I fell, jumped up and started running again. Over and over. The siren’s high-pitched shriek was getting louder. But I still had no idea what was wrong.

Then I fell on top of him. Literally. I did a roll over his back before landing with a thud on the ground. My lungs instantly deflated from the impact, and I sucked hard, trying to inflate them. Holy crap, I needed help too!

Hurt.

Like.

Hell.

And then... relief. Air.

I rocked my head to the side.

Clay was slumped on the ground, eyes open.

Holy shit! Was he dead?

My heart pounded against my breastbone.

What happened?

I logrolled onto my stomach and pushed up on all fours. My movements weren’t exactly graceful as I reached for him. My arm stabbed out, instead of moving smoothly. I accidentally smacked him in the face.

“Ow!” he yelled.

He yelled!

“You’re not dead?” I screamed.

“Not yet. But you and that old coot are trying hard to change that.”

On hands and knees, I crawled closer, gaze roving over his body, looking for blood. “Ohmygod, no. I’m not trying to kill you. I didn’t see you.”

Clay grimaced. One arm was resting across his chest. “That’s what he said too.”

Outside of his scowl and slightly greenish complexion, I didn’t see anything wrong. Why was he on the ground? “What happened?”

“The bastard shot me.”

Shot?
“What? Where?”

His face a pale mask of pain, Clay shifted the arm on his chest. “Here.” He inched his arm to the side, revealing a red stain on his shirt.

My heart literally stopped. “Ohmygod!” I froze. Should I touch him? Should I not? What should I do? I’d never been in this situation.

Get your fucking head together.

“Easy, kitten. I don’t need you passing out on me too,” Clay said, his voice strained.

Shit! Shit!

I blinked. My heart was thumping really hard. I needed to slow it down.

Shot. Clay was shot!

And what the hell could I do?

What was that? That noise?

Phone?

Phone!

I smacked it against my ear. “Are you there?” I yelled.

“Yes, I’m here. What’s happening?” said the dispatcher, her voice calm and reassuring. “Talk to me.”

“One of my hired hands accidentally shot the other. We’re out in a field behind my farm. The victim is awake and aware. But he doesn’t look good.” I swung my head left, right. “Where the hell is that ambulance?”

“Help is on the way,” she assured me. “They’re almost there.”

“I’ve been waiting forever.”

“It seems that way, I know. What is the shot man doing now?”

I looked at Clay. Wow, his lips were pale. Like, white. “Not much of anything.”

“Is he still breathing?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. The paramedics are on your property. How do they find you?”

“Tell them to come straight back, across the pasture and through the line of trees. I’ll meet them.”

Clay grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Thanks, kitten.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I ran as hard as I could. Legs pumping furiously. I crashed through the tree line and nearly took down two EMT’s in the process. To avoid plowing into them, I swerved and collided with a tree.

They immediately turned to me, but I jutted out an arm, pointing in Clay’s direction. I was hurt, yes. But I’d live. I wasn’t so sure about Clay. They needed to take care of him first.

The two men continued on while I tried to recover from my intimate moment with the tree. Several more followed, and I waved them on when they hesitated.

I wanted to get back to Clay for some reason. I felt he needed me there. Crazy, huh? It wasn’t like we were friends. Really, it would make more sense for me to stay out of the way.

Yes, of course it would.

Still, I couldn’t help dragging my banged-up body back through the trees and out into that pasture.

Maybe I was afraid they wouldn’t find him. After all, I’d literally fallen over him. But, as I emerged from the woods, I saw they were gathered around him.

I approached the group but hung back so I won’t be in the way. They had wires and tubes connected to him. And he was lying on a stretcher. Two men carried the stretcher while several others walked alongside with the equipment. I followed them to the vehicle, catching Cockroach talking to a police officer nearby. Once they shut Clay in the ambulance, I approached Cockroach and the officer.

Cockroach looked like he’d been through hell and back. His hands trembled more than normal, and his face was almost as pale as Clay’s. I felt absolutely awful for him. I knew he would never hurt someone intentionally. This was an accident. No doubt about it.

The officer turned to me and began hammering me with questions, starting with my name and progressing to more challenging questions as I responded. I repeated the truth, over and over. But for some reason it seemed he wasn’t believing me. He kept asking me the same questions again and again, as if he believed one time I’d slip up and say what he wanted to hear. After an eternity, I told him I needed to go and he handed me a card and told me to contact him if I had any further information to share.

Feeling as if I’ve just been interrogated (which I had), I watched him go.

What a fucking day!

No sign of Cockroach.

I headed inside the house and collapsed on the couch. It was after seven o’clock already. Holy shit. Over two hours ago, I’d been heading out to thank Clay for helping me catch up with the work on the ranch. Two hours ago Clay had been healthy and whole.

Now... I had no idea.

Was he in surgery? Was he... alive?

I wanted to go see how he was, but I wasn’t a family member. I doubt I would be allowed to see him.

Dammit.

Was this my fault? I’d known Cockroach was crazy-fast with that gun. And I hadn’t warned Clay. I should have warned him. Yes. I most definitely should have.

Why hadn’t I?

If I had, maybe Clay wouldn’t be in the hospital now.

U
ntil today I’d never known how fucking slow twenty-four hours could go. Wow, could hours drag. It was absolute torture. But almost twenty-four hours after Clay was rushed off to the hospital, I was able to speak with him. On the phone.

He was alive and well and coming home tomorrow.

I knew where he lived. I’d been to his family’s ranch years ago. I never thought I’d go back there.

Sometimes life threw some wicked curveballs.

As for Cockroach, he didn’t show for work.

I did what I could myself and some thousand years later, so exhausted I didn’t care about eating dinner, I literally crashed into my bed. This life was hard! There was always work to do. So much work. And not enough hours to get it all done.

I hurt everywhere. My legs. My back. My shoulders. Even my fingers. And my eyeballs.

I was filthy but I didn’t care. All I wanted was sleep.

I closed my eyes.

Damn, this bed felt good. Really, really gooooood...

***

I
jumped.

Oh hell. What was that?

Knocking?

Fuck the door. I was tired. I shoved my head under the pillow and clamped by eyelids shut.

Bed time.

Sleep time.

Sleeeeep...

Bam. Bam. Bam.

Shit!
I smashed my pillow against my head.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Who the hell was busting down my door? Why wouldn’t they give up and come back tomorrow?

Swearing under my breath, I logrolled across the bed and staggered to my feet.

All I wanted was some fucking quiet. Normally that was all I got. Quiet. And more quiet. Except for stupid Elvis.

So what the hell?

Grumbling a slew of curse words that would make my mother cry in shame, I dragged my aching body to the door and opened it.

Something slammed into me.

A body.

A female body?

Harper! My ex-roommate.

What the hell was she doing in BFE Nowhere? After graduation she accepted a job in Chicago. A great job.

“I had to come see you!” Harper explained as she practically assaulted me. “I can’t believe you haven’t texted or called me in weeks. What the hell, girl? I thought we were friends,” she jabbered.

I blinked.

Harper, it was her, wasn’t it?

I blinked again.

Here. In Dawson.

Harper.

“This is Wyoming,” I informed her.

“No kidding!” She laughed, tossing her sleek blond hair over her shoulder. “It sure isn’t Chicago.”

“Yeah, speaking of which, the job...?”

“Not for me.” She gave one of her trademark drama queen sighs. “I quit after a week.”

That sounded like my roommate all right. Quitting a job that paid over a hundred thousand a year after just one week? Sure. Why not?

“Why?” I asked, flabbergasted as I motioned her inside.

She flopped down on the couch. “It sucked so bad. I hated it.”

Sucked? She didn’t know the meaning of the word. My life sucked right now. Sucked balls in every sense of the expression. Sucked so bad nobody would want to be in my shoes... which had to be thrown out because they were caked in shit.

But it was great having a friend here. It was getting really lonely living in this house alone. I plopped down beside her. “Sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Me too. But hey, if it had, I wouldn’t be here now.” She glanced around, eyes huge. “Here. In this...
beautiful
place.”

I laughed. “What? Don’t like my place?”

“You know, it’s a good thing I’m here.” She smoothed her hand over the thousand year old crocheted afghan draped over the back of the couch. “Because if you think anything in this place is acceptable, you need more help than I thought. And, seeing as I happen to have a degree in interior design...”

Ah, I saw a twinkle in her eye. “Are you looking to make this a temporary thing or permanent?”

She glanced around. “Though this isn’t exactly my scene, Chicago kind of burned me out. I might consider sticking around for a while. Maybe a year or so.”

“Well, then you have free reign. Design to your heart’s content.”

Her face beamed so brightly I almost went blind.

“But there’s a catch,” I added, knowing that huge grin was about to turn into a serious frown.

“What’s that?”

“My budget?”

She grimaced. “Don’t tell me.”

“Yeah, it’s...” I stuffed my hand in my pocket and withdrew what I found in it. A buckle from one of the horse’s harnesses, a penny and some lint. I dropped it into her palm. “There you go.”

She shrugged. “I’ve done more with less.”

“Then you’re hired. As an interior designer. But on one condition.”

“I thought we just discussed the sole condition of my employment?” She eyed me warily.

“Technically, that was a catch, not a condition ,” I explained.

“Ah, got it.” She tapped the tip of her perfect, pierced little nose. “So what’s the condition?”

“You help around the ranch. I’m a little short on help right now. I need the hands.”

She pursed her very lips. “Help? You mean, like brush the horses and stuff?”

“Yeah, like that.”

She shrugged. “Sure. I can do that. I like horses. I think. I’ve never met one in person, actually. Um, I need to ask one more favor.”

A favor? Considering what she’d just offered, and the fact that she was my best friend in the whole freaking world, how could I refuse? “What’s that?”