Second Burn Cowboy (Second Chance Series Book 6) (12 page)

“Go to hell. Your abusive words no longer have the same effect on me. I’m over you.” She kept her gaze steady, matching
his chin tilt.

He blinked but gained his composure. “You never did like the truth, did you? Stop pretending that you have a life beyond me—us. This cowboy you’ve been fucking will throw you to the dogs once he is finished
.” His lip curled. “I’m the only one who really knows who you are,
what
you are.”

“You know nothing about my life now,” she snapped.

A brow curved. “I don’t? Deckland Brooke. Two brothers, Dante and Dillon. Parents died in a tragic accident years ago. Deckland is quite the saint. I’m sure you enjoy taking care of a man with a bad heart. I’m sure a man in his condition doesn’t need drama from a disaster like you.”

Her mind skipped
back to the medicine bottle she’d found in the bathroom. Deckland didn’t seem like he had a ‘condition’. She certainly wouldn’t discuss him with Tom. “There was no drama until you came here. Once you go, the spectacle goes with you.”

He laughed. “I heard about the fire.” He blew on his knuckles and swiped them across his lapel. “Such a sticky mess.”

“What do you know about the fire?”

“That it’s
such a harmful thing—fire destroys personal belongings, takes lives and creates a mess for all involved.” His intense gaze swallowed her whole.

Disgust burned
her gut. “You—you started the fire?”

His cold chuckle made a bird
squawk in a nearby tree. “Me? Oh, no. But you wouldn’t want to pass along your poor luck on others, would you?”

“You wouldn’t dare! You m
ay have destroyed my life in the past, but I won’t let you hurt any of the people I care about.” She clenched her hands into fists.

“T
hen we see things the same, sweetheart. Come with me and no one shall suffer from your injudicious decisions.”

“Go back so I can be your punching bag after you’ve spent a night drinking and screwing one whore after another? Never!” She was so angry she shuddered.

“I had to fuck someone after you became a cold bitch. But you’re right. They were whores, but you were my wife.” His gaze softened slightly. “You’ve punished me enough. Come along and I’ll prove I can be a good husband.”

“We’re no longer married.”

“We can change that. We
will
change that glitch. You must understand that if I can’t have you, no one ever will.”

Her eyes blurred with tears
, but she refused to cry, not wanting to gratify him with her emotion. Over her dead body would she allow any harm to come to Deckland. “You can’t threaten me.”

His
impatience snapped like a twig, reminding her of his cruelty when he’d broken the neck of her cat as a means of punishment after she’d denied him what he’d wanted. His malevolent ways were numerous and she realized long ago if she hadn’t gotten away from him when she had, he’d have broken her also—but more than that, he’d have tortured her in his psychotic trap until she became an emotional vegetable.

He took the short distance
between them in two strides and, before she could make it to the door, he had his harsh grasp on her elbow and tugged her hard against his chest. He was thinner than Deckland, but his strength was identifiable. He stared down at her, his lips curled and his eyes dancing like fire.

“G
et your things, now!” Spittle flew through his tight lips.

Her mi
nd raced as her body threatened to weaken. She was at a loss. She’d known this day would come.

“Is everything okay?”

The deep voice brought Tom around. Elsa brought her gaze over his shoulder onto Tucker. Relief spun through her. Her ex released his hold and took a step back as a manipulative smile played at the corners of his mouth. He was good at turning on and off his charm.

Elsa rubbed the aching in her arm where
she knew he’d left a bruise.

Not getting an answer, Tucker’s jaw tightened.
“Elsa? Is all okay?”

Tom flicked
her an intimidating eye.

“Yes. I—I was just talking to an old friend.” She fo
rced a smile, which she’d perfected after years of pretending.

A skeptical glare turned Tucker’s face hard. He stepped forward and
after a long second, he stuck out his hand. “I’m Tucker Bailey. And you’re—?”

“
Tom, Elsa’s husband.”

“Ex-husband.” She corrected.

Tucker glanced over Tom’s shoulder and targeted Elsa with a curious gaze. Tucker dropped his hand, apparently realizing Tom wasn’t going to oblige him. “Sometimes we forget the ‘ex’ part of that introduction. Anyway, I came up to offer a hand to Elsa with the flowers.” He gave her a meaningful look. She caught the underlying message.

“Thank you, Tucker. Tom
was just leaving.” She straightened her back and tilted her chin at a sharp angle. Bravery came tenfold when she had back up like Tucker. Tom thought he was tough, but Tucker was taller and brawnier by far.

Tom
didn’t offer even a squeak of refusal. He turned to Elsa, gave her a smooth, but powerful, grin. “Remember what I said, sweetheart. We shall see each other again.”

Expletive
s shot off in her brain, but she bit them back. No reason to tease the bully. He was leaving and that was what she wanted. She didn’t want to encourage an altercation between the two men, and the last thing she wanted was for Deckland to show up while Tom was here.

He
walked toward his car and got in. He waved through his open window before jetting out of the drive, stirring rocks and dust.

“I know an ass when I see one and that man is
prime example of one of the biggest.” Tucker shook his head. “I’m going out on a limb here, but the bastard is a thorn in your behind, right?”

Elsa wrapped her arms around her
waist as her adrenaline flow finally slowed. “I’m sorry you had to get involved, Tucker, but thank you for coming when you did. Tom makes my skin crawl.”

He shrugged, his dark eyes sincere. “I’m glad I could be of assistance. It’s be
en a long time since I’ve had to physically handle anyone, but I’m sure a pipsqueak like that guy wouldn’t work up much of a sweat.”

“H
e’s a big coward, unless it’s a female.”

Tucker nodded. “I’m getting the feeling
Deckland doesn’t know about pretty boy Tom.”

Sweat beaded on her upper lip
. “I—well—no, he doesn’t. I tend to keep my past a secret, for obvious reasons. My ex isn’t a gem, as you surely saw.”

“No
explanation needed. But, I have feeling your ex means business and plans to be the bumblebee on a horse’s ass until someone swats him. Deckland’s an understanding man, but he also has his limits. Good thing Tom ole boy dashed out of here before Deckland got back. The scene wouldn’t have been pretty. And maybe it’s none of my business, but he cares for you, it’s obvious, and he’s always been protective over those he cares for.” He tipped his hat and left her standing in a tug of war of emotion.

Plopping onto the step to the porch, she let the tears flow. Not one single drop was for her ex, but
instead for the threat he made against Deckland.

Her options were
very limited. She could pack up and leave the ranch. Tom would hunt her down, but Deckland would be away from the mess.

Her chest filled with an unfamiliar ache. Happiness
eluded her, again.

Swiping the moisture from her cheeks, she needed to focus
. She’d wasted too many years on Tom and his violent behavior. He’d bullied her, beaten her and treated her like the dirt under his shoes.

Then came Deckland. He was a gentleman who
showed her what a real man was like.

But did he have heart problems?

He wasn’t sick, at least he didn’t appear ill. She knew her ex and was sure he’d hired an investigator to find her, and to snoop into Deckland’s personal life. Tom knew no boundaries.

There was a bigger issue here.

She’d fallen in love with Deckland, and just as he had a protective side, so did Elsa. Tom had no clue that he was messing with a different, stronger woman.

****

Walking into the backyard, Deckland found Elsa sitting on a wicker lounger, her legs stretched out and a solemn expression on her face.

“Elsa?”
She brought her chin up, looking at him across the short distance. He could see the glossiness in her eyes. He wasn’t sure what happened since he left a few hours ago, but whatever it was, he guessed it wasn’t good.

“Deckland. You’re home.” He caught the slight
huskiness in her voice.

“You look like you’ve lost your best friend. What’s wrong?”
He crossed the patio and sat down on the end of the lounger, next to her feet.

“
I’ve been sitting here reflecting.”

“
This is a good place for that. Did something spark the deep thinking?”

She blinked. “
Nothing out of the ordinary.”

He chuckled, but it fizzled. “H
ave you eaten?”

She shook her head abruptly, sending tendrils of hair bouncing across her blushing cheeks. “I’m not hungry.”

“Are you angry?” Obviously, she wasn’t in a good mood.

“Don’t look at
me like that, Deckland.”

“Like what?” Frustration marred her delicate
features.

“Like
you want to fix me.” She threaded her fingers through her hair. “I’ve taken care of myself for quite some time.”

“I won’
t argue that point.” He didn’t know a lot about a woman, but he knew when one was pissed. “Did I do something that I’m not aware of?”

Her facial
features softened. “You’re a nice guy.”

“And you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s a very good thing.” Her eyes filled with moisture. “You deserve so much.”

His gut clenched
. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

She shrugged and blew out a long breath. “That I’m not ready for this—you and
I, the intimacy, and all that comes with it.”

He tugged the hat off his head and laid it by her feet. “Neither of us planned for any of this, sure, but w
hat’s wrong with going with the flow and allowing things to just happen?”

Her gaze narrowed. “That
might work for you, but not for me.”

Scrubbing
his jaw, he was thrown into confusion, but he had a good guess what bothered her. “The past is like a blanket of poison for you.”

Pushing out of the
chair, she made it to her feet. She swayed but caught her balance. The area between her thin brows scrunched. “I’m the poison, Deckland. Can’t you see that?”

He got up and faced her. “What the hell happened after I left?”

“You’d never understand.” Her arms dropped to her sides and her shoulders slumped.

“Try me,”
he urged. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but snapped it shut. “You have to talk to me. I’m not asking for the world, just a bit of communication and trust.”

“Trust?”
Her mouth curved into a frown. “I have no clue what that word means.”

“
Yeah, you’ve made that clear, Elsa.” He pushed his hands deep into his back pockets.

“I’m used to disappointment. And you talk of trust
so easily, then all I can ask is that you trust me and realize I’m doing what’s best for you. If anything happened…”

“What would happen
? Tell me so I’ll understand.” He’d never met a person with a bigger wall of protection. He wanted the opportunity to break the bricks down, one by one if necessary, and show her that he’d never hurt her, not intentionally. For some reason, she equated emotions with pain. “Let me help.”

Would she allow him the chance?

“I’m not a charity case, Deckland. When will you stop trying to help others?”

He stayed quiet. After all, what could he say?

Shrugging, she swept passed him. She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder, a sadness crept over her pretty face. “Thank you for letting me stay. I’m going to get back on my feet, find a place of my own. I’ll understand if you feel that I should leave immediately. But one thing I can’t waver on, we can’t get caught up in emotion again. It’s not safe.” And she stepped into the house.

He stared at the place where she’d disappeared for the longest time, his mind pounded with uncertainty.

Why was she blocking him out?

Deckland was
still consumed with Elsa’s words as he lay in bed that night, leaning against the headboard of his bed and flipping through channels on the TV.

Apparently
, he needed a guide for women because he had no clue what was going through her head. She held emotion, he knew because he saw it in her gaze when she looked at him, and yet she pushed him away.