Rough Stock (3 page)

She tilted her head to one side and shrugged. “I’m fine.”

Mason sighed. “If you had just told us sooner, maybe—”

“I know. It’s okay, Mason. Really. I’m fine. It’s just one night. You guys do your thing, and I’ll do mine, then we can tell each other about it the next day.”

He considered her new nonchalant attitude. “You sure?”

April nodded and even forced a smile. “Positive.”

If only Mason was so sure.

Chapter Three

“You think that damn prom is over yet?” Clay backed the Carson’s trailer up to the barn so they could unload the horses.

Mason shrugged. “Ain’t no telling.”

Clay twisted in the driver’s seat to peer past Mason at the house. “The front light’s still on. That means she’s not home yet.” He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “At nearly one o’clock in the damn morning.”

Not liking that fact or the implications himself, Mason opened the truck door. “Let’s get these horses unloaded before we get to worrying about her. Okay?”

Still looking unhappy, Clay gave in and nodded.

They got the horses to bed, but they did it while both of them worried about where April was and what she and Clinton were doing. Then they were done, and Clay was staring at the house again. “I think we should wait for her to get home.”

“I agree.” Mason was sore, tired and he stank. Yet he still nodded and, arms folded, settled himself on a bale of hay for the duration.

They didn’t have long to wait. He heard her before he saw her. When she did come into view, sobbing and limping down the road, Mason wasn’t sure who moved first, but both he and Clay got to her in a split second.

Clay touched the shoulder of her torn white dress. The light from the front porch reached to where they stood and Mason saw the look his friend shot him. Mason knew Clay was thinking the same thing he was—if Clinton did this to April, they’d make sure he paid for it, and not with his daddy’s money either. Mason had other ideas.

Jaw set, Mason tried to speak gently so as not to frighten her any more. The poor thing was already shaking so badly it was a miracle she was still on her feet. “April, what happened tonight?”

She shook her head and released another huge sob.

Clay wrapped his arm around her and she pressed her face into his chest, clinging to him. “Shhh. It’s okay now. We’re here.” Clay shot another worried glance at Mason past the top of her quivering head.

Mason took the opportunity to look her over better now that she couldn’t see him doing it, and he didn’t like what he found one bit. Her shoes were missing and her feet looked dirty and blood smeared, like she’d walked a long way. Besides the shoulder of her dress being torn, it looked like her hair had been fastened up at the start of the night, but it was pulled halfway down now. Then he moved and the light struck her arms. He saw the bruises forming there. Someone had manhandled April and he had a very good idea who it was.

Angry now, Mason pulled her away from Clay’s chest, one hand holding her chin as he inspected her face. Besides her tears, which broke his heart and fueled his mad, her lip was split open and bleeding. “Did Clinton do this?”

Still shaking and sobbing, she finally nodded.

Dropping his hold on her, Mason spun on the heel of his boot and headed for the truck. He heard Clay behind him. “Wait up. I’m coming with you.”

“You should stay with April.”

“And let you go alone to take care of Clinton? To hell with that. She’s my friend too. We both beat the crap out of him then we come back here and make sure she’s all right. I told her to leave her window open and expect us in an hour.”

Mason nodded and walked around to the driver’s side of the truck, which technically since they’d only been asked to drive it to Elk City and back, they were now stealing. He didn’t think April’s daddy would mind if he knew why they needed it. Hell, he’d probably grab his rifle and come with them.

Turning the key in the ignition, Mason did his best to control himself and not slam on the accelerator and peel out of the gravel drive. “You told her an hour?”

Clay nodded.

“I don’t know if an hour of kicking his ass is going to be enough to get this mad out of my system.”

Holding on to the door handle as Mason took the turn out of the drive a bit too fast, Clay turned to look at him. “It’s gonna have to be. April needs us.”

That would be the only thing that could drag Mason away from taking his size elevens and kicking that rotten, rich-boy bastard until the sun came up.

They found Clinton pretty much where they expected him to be, in the park, drinking, his car easy to spot where it was parked along the curb. When Daddy owned half the town, the cops tended to turn a blind eye to his son’s underage drinking with his usual entourage. That was one reason Mason never even considered having April call the police about what Clinton had done. The law in this town could be bought and sold, but justice in this case would not be, not if Mason had anything to say about it.

Judging by the look on Clinton’s face, and that of his two scum friends, they knew exactly why Clay and Mason pulled the horse truck up to the curb and jumped out. Yet the bastard still had the nerve to grin and elbow his friend next to him. “Look, if it isn’t April’s two boyfriends. I thought I smelled horse shit.”

“There’s three of them,” Clay said softly next to him.

Mason nodded. “And they’re drunker than shit, so don’t worry about it.” Besides, Mason was mad enough to take them on all alone.

Clay cracked his knuckles and took another step forward. “Oh, I’m not worried. I’m just wondering which one of us gets the pleasure of kicking two asses instead of just one.”

Mason matched Clay step for agonizingly slow step as they got closer to their prey. “I tell you what. You let me take Clinton and you can have the other two all to yourself.”

“Well, now, that’s not fair. I wanted Clinton.”

Mason was very well aware that Clinton and his cronies could hear every word, and still the bastards grinned like they’d gotten away with something.

After taking one final step, Mason stopped right in front of Clinton. “You know what? You’re really starting to piss me off.” With that, he put all of his body weight into his fist and swung. He watched the blood and spit fly as Clinton’s head whipped to the side and he landed on his ass in the grass.

They needn’t have worried about who got to take on the other two, because they took one look at the punch Mason had thrown and began backing up, wide-eyed.

Mason grinned. “Hmm. Looks like you’re on your own there, Clinton.”

“Well, shit. Now it’s gonna look bad. Two of us beating the shit out of only one of them.” Clay pointed at one of the two retreating guys. “You. Come on back here and take a swing at me so it’s a fair fight and I get my chance at Clinton too.”

“I wouldn’t worry about fair, Clay. Any man who hits a woman forfeits rights to a fair fight.” Teeth clenched tight, Mason pulled back for another punch. “Stand up, coward.”

Still on his ass on the ground, Clinton scrambled backwards a few feet, like a cowardly crab crawling toward the safety of the surf.

“She only got what was coming to her. Thinking I’m going to pay for her to go to the prom and she doesn’t have to put out. The girl’s a cocktease. Acting all like she’s a virgin or something when everyone around here knows you two have both been diddling with her for years now.”

“Oh, that’s it. Move out of the way, Mason.” Clay was on Clinton like a lion on a fresh piece of meat, hauling him off the grass only to slam him up against a tree. “Now, you take that back about April.”

A few smashes of his head against the trunk and Clinton was crying, which was when Clay let him drop with a snort of disgust. “You ain’t worth it. Let’s go, Mason.”

Some men were just too stupid to know when to keep their mouths shut. Apparently, Clinton was one of them. As Clay turned his back on him, the idiot couldn’t leave well enough alone. “You two run on back and fuck your whore, but I sure hope you don’t mind getting my sloppy seconds.”

From that point on it was hard to tell whose fists were whose. All Mason knew was that Clay finally grabbed him. “Mason. Enough.”

With another glance at Clinton’s bloodied face, Mason let Clay steer him back to the truck and shove him through the passenger’s side door.

Enough time had been wasted on that lowlife Clinton. April needed them now.

As Clay started the truck, Mason realized Clay had been right to stop him. They’d do April no good if they were in jail. But shit, what Clinton had said he’d done to her nearly ate a hole in his gut.

“Clay. What if what he said was true? What if he…”

Mason couldn’t bring himself to say the word rape.

Feeling the truck accelerate, Mason watched Clay’s throat work as he swallowed hard, his friend’s eyes never leaving the road as he avoided answering the question. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

Mason felt his own heart pounding at the thought. “And…then what?”

Clay looked at him now, for too long considering the speed at which the truck was hurtling down the dark road. “We take her to the hospital to get looked at, and then we go back and kill him.”

Mason nodded. He could live with that.

Clay didn’t slow down until they had arrived back at April’s farm. He steered the truck down the drive as slowly and quietly as he could. Still, the sound of the tires crunching on the gravel sounded deafeningly loud in the darkness, cutting the silence typical of the middle of the night.

The two swung their doors shut slowly, pushing them until they barely latched to avoid any more noise that might wake April’s parents.

The front porch light had been turned off. Mason hoped April had done that on her way in and that her parents were still sleeping soundly, unaware of the two cowboys about to crawl through their bruised and battered daughter’s bedroom window.

This wouldn’t be the first time they’d done this. Not for the purpose that Clinton had accused them of, but kids will be kids. They had been sneaking in, or helping April sneak out, for years now. Sometimes they’d all go night fishing. More recently, they’d grab a six-pack of beer and the three of them would sit by the lake and talk.

Tonight would be the first time Mason absolutely dreaded talking to April. He really didn’t want to hear the answer to the question they were about to ask her. Judging by the look of her when she’d come hobbling down the road, and from Clinton’s bragging, Mason feared he already knew what she’d say.

She had left the window open, just as Clay had asked her to, and all Mason had to do was hop up on the sill and swing a leg inside.

April had changed out of the torn dress and was wrapped in an extra-large T-shirt and her top sheet, in spite of the heat. She sat upright in the bed, hugging her knees and rocking, until she saw Mason coming through the window. “Oh, thank God. I was so worried. What did you two do?”

She
was worried about
them
?

Clay was over the windowsill and next to him in an instant and they both went to sit on either side of her on the bed. Clay answered her question. “We had to take care of some garbage. How are you feeling, darlin’?”

“Better.” Her voice sounded breathy in the darkness.

Mason ran one hand gently down her arm, careful not to hurt the bruises he knew were there but couldn’t see in the room lit only by a tiny nightlight in one corner. He had to ask her this, though he didn’t want to. “I need you to tell us what happened, April.”

She shook her head, silent.

Clay laid one hand on her sheet-covered knee. “You need to, darlin’. It’s important.”

“He just…tried stuff. That’s all. Nothing happened.”

Mason swallowed and kept rubbing her arm, more for his comfort than for hers at this point.

“April, baby.” Mason cleared his throat and began again. “It’s us. You can tell us anything. You know that. And we know that whatever happened tonight he forced on you. But you have to tell us if you two had sex because we have to take care of you if you did.”

April jerked back from him and her denial came out a bit too loudly. “No!”

As happy as the answer made him, he and Mason both shushed her before her parents woke up.

“No,” she repeated in a lower voice.

“The truth?” Clay mirrored what Mason wanted to ask.

“Yes, the truth. I kneed him the way you guys taught me years ago. When he was bent over in pain in that car he loves so much, I got out and ran home.”

Clay laughed out loud. Mason allowed himself a small smile, thankful that two thirteen-year-old boys had had the sense to teach a young April self-defense.

He heard Clay release a loud breath as he gathered April in a big hug. “I’m very happy to hear that. I would have hated to have to go back and kill him.”

“Would you really have done that?” April asked, sounding so incredibly small.

Mason answered her question before Clay, his voice flat and matter-of-fact. “Yes.”

She turned in Clay’s arms to face him. “Why?”

That answer was easy. “Because we care about you. A lot.”