Rebecca Joyce (16 page)

“You know something, dipshit, you must have
fallen out of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down if you think I’m falling for you being an FBI agent. So tell me, asshole, who the fuck do you really work for?”

“Shut up,” he growled.

“Oh, lookie there. The big, bad fake FBI craphead is getting mad. Whatcha gonna do, asshole?”

“Lady, I have had about enough of your mouth. Shut the fuck up!” he shouted.

Laughing, Charlotte kept taunting him for the next ten minutes, until the man had had enough. She kept up her rants as he walked out of the sheriff’s station, and she sighed when the she heard the door close.

“Thank fucking God! Thought asshole would never leave,” she whispered. Reaching into the pocket of the sheriff’s coat, her fingers cupped the set of keys. Praying they were to the jail cell, she opened her hand and smiled. “Thank you, Brannon.”

Quickly unlocking her cell, she moved over to Jordan’s. Once inside, she rolled him over and gasped. His face was swollen, his left eye was black and blue, and he was sporting a very nice fat lip.

“That motherfucker!” she growled loudly.

Shaking him gently, Jordan slowly opened his eye, “Hey, baby. I don’t feel so good. Your turn to cook dinner tonight,” he said right before he passed out again.

“Come on, Jordan. I need you to wake up. I can’t leave you here. Please,” she begged, shaking him harder. It took some doing, but she managed to keep him awake and get him on his feet. Walking slowly, they moved as quietly as possible toward the back door.

Once out in the cold, Jordan began to perk up and was walking on his own.

“This way, Jordan. Just a few more feet,” Charlotte coaxed as she led the way to a steel framed door.

Knocking furiously, she waited patiently for the owner to open the locked door. When she heard the click of a lock, she smiled as the smells of Sweet Treasures filled the air.

“Charlotte? Oh my God! Jordan, what happened?” Hazel cried, reaching for Jordan and helping Charlotte hold him up.

“Hazel, Jordan needs a place to hide. Got room in your kitchen for him?”

“Yes, come in.”

“Thanks. Oh, and I need a phone?”

Charlotte took the cell phone Hazel gave her.

“Are you gonna need this?” Charlotte asked, reaching for the marble rolling pin.

“Uh, not at this moment,” Hazel said, wide-eyed. “Charlotte, what are you doin’?”

“I’m gonna go find out what asshole wants with me and Jordan?”

“Charlotte, that man is three times you size! You can’t go back out there.”

“Sure I can. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.” She smiled.

“You’re crazy. You know that.”

“Yep, just ask Kelly. She can confirm it!” Charlotte laughed as she walked out the back door. The snow was coming down heavily now. The visibility was almost nonexistent as she quietly made her way back toward the jail.

Having come up with a plan on a whim, she prayed it would work. She didn’t know what was going on, or why this guy was after her and Jordan, but she was for damn sure it was going to be him in the jail cell instead of her. Now all she had to do was get the big brute to play along.

* * * *

Orin and Jacks McDaniel were just walking into the barn when their brother Davis rode up. They were all suffering from hangover hell, thanks to the party they catered to last night. Damn, it was a hot time, and the ache in their cocks only served to tell them they were headed in the right direction with the playful delicious treat from town. There was just something about the vibrant, sexy shop owner of the Pleasure Tease which had their cocks standing at attention wanting more.

With their heads filled with the saucy shop owner, Orin almost missed the incoming call as his phone vibrated relentlessly.

“Hello,” Orin answered as he took the reins from Davis.

“Orin, it’s Charlotte. I need your help.”

Orin, stopped as he listened to the hellcat on the other line quickly explain what was going one. In seconds, Orin and his brothers were running for the big black Dodge dully and speeding toward town.

* * * *

Matthew Jenkins walked silently down the long, marbled hall. He knew this place well. The halls of justice were his home, his safe haven for when things got too much in his personal life. He could always count on Lady Justice to swing her gavel and punish those who were guilty and set free the innocent.

The door ahead of him was ajar, and the loud voice behind the door was irate. Matthew moved closer and listened.

“I don’t give a shit. I am paying you enough to handle one faggot and one stupid, retarded bitch. Don’t you worry about the sheriff. I took care of him. That fucker won’t know what happened till it’s too late. I have one more thing to take care of, and then I’ll head over there. Just be ready to move them.”

Matthew eased the door open and walked into the large office. He saw the pompous ass and stood shaking his head. The mayor of Treasure Cove was nothing more than a limp dick on a power high. After the public death of his wife, the mayor had made it known that Braxton was going to pay dearly for his wife’s death. Even though his adulteress wife was fucking every rancher within a fifty-mile radius, the mayor defended her reputation and his.

Gross moral turpitude was a bitch in public office, and the mayor had just crossed over the line. “Hello, Gerald. We need to talk,” Matthew seethed as the mayor spun around.

The loud ricochet of a resounding pop was heard down the deserted halls of the Treasure Cove Court house.

Charlotte was waiting just inside the jail cell when the large black man walked back into the sheriff’s office, cursing up a storm. She watched as he paced back and forth, fuming.

Something had upset the big brute, and she had a feeling it wasn’t her.

Well, I can fix that!

“Hey link licker! I gotta go pee,” she yelled, getting his attention.

“You know what, lady—I have had enough of your foul mouth. Never in my life have I ever met such a classless broad who cursed worse than a damn sailor.”

“Hey, no disrespecting our fine servicemen! They are my heroes. You, on the other hand, are a worthless piece of shit who wouldn’t know a classy broad if she took a dump on your head!”

“That’s it!” he shouted, storming for the jail cell.

Charlotte braced herself. This was going to be fast and hard. She only had one shot at this, and she refused to miss. Holding the marble rolling pin behind her back, she stepped back against the wall. She gave herself enough room to maneuver, and when the cell door swung open she waited until he was far enough in the cell.

Here goes nothing!

Bringing her arm up, she swung the heaving pin at his head. The resounding crack was spine tingling as the large black man stumbled and fell toward the bars. Slumping to the ground, he shook his head as Charlotte made a beeline for the cell door. Grabbing the bars on the way out, she slammed the cell door shut and locked it with Brannon’s keys.

“I hope that left a fucking dent in your head, you piece of shit! See how you like being caged now, asshole.” She taunted the man as adrenaline rushed her system.

She did it. Asshole was in jail. Now what?

“Shit! What do I do now?”

“Maybe I can help,” the sinister voice said behind her.

Charlotte spun and screamed, “Braxton!”

* * * *

Pulling away from the house, Braxton floored the gas. He knew when he arrived home to find the door standing wide open and the lock broken, something was wrong, but when he found blood on the floor in master bedroom, he knew Jordan was in trouble.

Racing toward town, he could barely see anything for worry. The storm was almost a true whiteout and piling up fast. Ignoring his safety, all he could think about was getting to Jordan. Figuring he headed toward the clinic, he passed the sheriff’s stations and skidded to a stop. Jumping out, he raced into the Treasure Cove clinic and shouted, “Where is he?”

Working the front desk, Kelly Connor smiled. “Hey, Braxton. Where’s who?”

“Jordan,” he growled, walking toward her.

“He’s not here. Why, is he hurt?” she asked, concerned.

“Damn. Are you sure, Kelly?”

“Positive, just little ol’ me here. Since the snow started falling, a lot of patients canceled their appointments.”

“Even Charlotte?”

“No, she never showed. I was gonna head over to Matthew’s in a minute to see if she forgot.”

“She’s at the station. Matthew sent her there over an hour ago.”

“Huh, that’s funny. Doc ran out of here about an hour ago. Wonder what they’re up to?”

“God only knows. Look, I’ve gotta find Jordan. Can you head on over to the station and stay with Charlotte till I get back?”

Just then the clinic door opened, and Kelly gasped. Braxton turned to see Hazel Montgomery helping Jordan through the door.

Running to grab him before he fell, Braxton held Jordan up.

“Thank God you’re back! I got worried when he kept slipping in and out of consciousness,” Hazel advised, finding a seat. The poor woman looked exhausted.

“Room two, Braxton,” Kelly ordered, moving quickly and grabbing sterile kits.

Braxton picked Jordan up, carrying him close to his chest. The moment Jordan’s head fell against his shoulder, Braxton wanted to cry.

Someone had hurt him. Beat him to a pulp. Jordan, his smiling, fun-loving, beautiful lover, was hurt, and Braxton wasn’t there to stop whoever did this. He laid him on the paper-covered table and stepped back as Kelly went to work. Helping where he could, Braxton wanted to scream when Kelly cut away Jordan’s shirt to only see his beautiful chest marred with bruises.

“Fuck!” Braxton cried as Kelly continued her examination.

By the time they had Jordan disrobed, he lay quietly under warming blankets as Kelly started an IV and began stitching up some deep cuts.

“Braxton, I am pretty sure his ribs aren’t broken, but Doc will have to confirm that. Other than a nasty black eye and this split lip, I think he’s gonna be okay. You need to find Doc so he can do a more thorough exam.”

“Braxton?” Jordan moaned.

Grabbing for his hand, Braxton whispered, “I’m here, baby. I love you, Jordan. You hear me, I love you.” Jordan moaned, trying to move. Braxton kissed his hand. “It’s okay. Kelly is gonna fix you right up. You’re gonna be fine. We all are. I’ll take care of it.”

“Charlotte,” Jordan moaned.

“She’s fine. She’s at the station, nice and warm, playing on her iPad,” Braxton informed him.

“No, in trouble,” he said before passing out again.

“Jordan?”

“He just passed out again. I’ll keep him safe. Go, go find Charlotte,” Kelly said, cleaning another wound as Braxton reached for his gun, adding the clip and taking the safety off. “And find Doc!” she said as he walked out of the clinic into a blizzard.

* * * *

The McDaniel Brothers stopped in front of the sheriff’s station, each loaded down with guns and ready to go hunting. Exiting the truck, they spread out, covering the building. Charlotte had gotten word to them that she was in trouble and so was Jordan. With Braxton heading into Celestial, she needed their help, and they were only too eager to oblige.

Somehow she had managed to get Jordan to safety, but the person who had beaten him to a pulp was still in the sheriff’s office.

To make matters more interesting, she also informed them that she had found the underwriter of the town Charter. So, with that bit of information, Orin and Jacks headed toward the sheriff’s station while Davis headed toward the courthouse.

Like most residents of Treasure Cove, they couldn’t wait to get their hands on the son of a bitch who was stealing from them and making life a living hell for every member of the town. They wanted justice, and like most of the ranchers, they agreed with a more tactile way of handling the situation. Divide and conquer. That was the McDaniel way, something they were good at. They had worked out a plan on the drive into town. It was simple. Shoot first and count the bodies later.

Orin and Jacks watched as Davis took off into the blizzard, and within seconds his tall body disappeared. Looking at each other, Orin gave the nod as he and Jacks stormed the sheriff’s office.

* * * *

Braxton was running past the courthouse when he saw Doc helping an injured Matthew down the steps.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, stopping to help.

“Dipshit decided to play GI Joe and got his ass shot again!” Doc yelled furiously, looking at his older brother. “I don’t know why I even bother sewing your ass up. Every time I do, you go and do something stupid!”

“Shut the fuck up, Andy. I ain’t in the mood,” Matthew grunted as the Doc helped him sit on the courthouse steps.

“Wait till I tell our daughter, or even worse, Macie. I hope she gives you hell for a month.”

“You wouldn’t?” Matthew looked up at his brother in horror.

“You bet your ass I would. Now, get your gimp ass up. We’ve got some more walkin’ to do, and it’s colder than a witch’s titty out here,” Doc ordered, helping his brother back on his feet.

“Who shot you?” Braxton asked, helping Doc get Matthew to his feet.