Destry (2 page)

That was the moment I lost all control.

Hysterical laughter bubbled up my chest and found its way out of my lips. I flipped them both the bird and jumped in my silver Audi. Starting it up in record time, I took off like a bat out of hell, speeding through our neighborhood, headed anywhere but there.

I’d been driving for what felt like hours. My eyes were sore and puffy from the crying jags I had suffered through, and my mind was spinning. The image of them together permanently burned into my mind’s eye. And to top it all off, I was starting to think I had broken my damn hand when I punched my skank of a sister in her pretty face.

Not so pretty anymore, are you, Nikki?

My knuckles were swollen, throbbing and bruised in a multitude of colors already. I cried for the betrayal. I cried for the humiliation and the devastation of my sister, being so cunning.

I even cried for the sheets they ruined.

What I didn’t do was cry about him.

I didn’t feel that sense of loss for him I would have expected. Strangely enough, I felt relieved. My left hand felt as if it weighed about twenty pounds lighter without the engagement ring I had ripped off my finger and thrown at the pretty white sign that read ‘You are now leaving Mansfield. Come back again soon’.

I wasn’t about to go back. At least, not back to him. I had no idea where I was going and I didn’t care. Not one little bit.

During my drive, my cell buzzed repeatedly on the seat beside me. My father’s name flashed across the screen. Reaching forward, I turned the radio up louder, turned my phone off and kept on driving.

This was what my life had amounted to:

Twenty-eight years old and running away from my life; a father who controlled my every move; a mother who did as she was told, and a fiancé who was giving my sister the business. I was fed the hell up with being the good little girl I was told I was supposed to be, wearing the clothes I was told to and doing the things a ‘proper lady’ was expected to.

Playing a fucking part. All my goddamn life.

To hell with that. It was time for me to cut the cord, find out what I really wanted in life and live how I wanted to. I just had no clue where to start.

Spotting an all-night diner, I pulled over and made my way inside. I sat for a long while, drinking cup after cup of the worst coffee I’d ever tasted in my entire life.

Drinking that coffee felt liberating. I mean, yeah, it was crappy diner coffee, but I chose it and I would drink it with pride. It didn’t matter about the taste or the stained and chipped mug it was in. What mattered was the choice was
mine
.

Staring blankly at the map I’d picked up when I walked in the doors, I tried in vain to figure out where the heck I was headed. An idea crossed my mind. Closing my eyes, I raised a pointed finger and dropped it down onto the creased paper. Peeking through one eye, I checked my new destination.

San Antonio.

I was headed for San Antonio.

Smiling to myself, I collected my map and purse, and shuffled—still bare foot—to my car. Sliding in, I started my baby up and off we went on the first and biggest life choice I’d made.

I was going on an adventure.

The smell coming in from my open window was exhilarating, dew and fresh grass, as were the sounds of my tires on the asphalt and the darkness surrounding me. All of it was liberating. I frowned at the music which suddenly filled my car; the song I had chosen for my almost nuptials was drifting from the speakers.

I took my eyes off the road for a split second while changing the radio station. I sat back up and barely had a second to spot the cow in the middle of the road. My stomach dropped out, the adrenaline kicked in and my heart beating rapidly in my chest.

SHIT!

Hitting the brakes, I swerved hard. The screech of tires and the smell of burning rubber hit me just a moment before I veered off the road. A scream tore from my throat as I missed the cow and tried to right the car after losing control, but to no avail.

Every bump in the road forced my body to jerk and bounce around like a child playing with its rag doll. The airbag popped out and hot powder assaulted me, the loud noise making my ears ring. My head smacked sideways into the door as I came to a sudden stop.

Bringing my hand up to my head, my fingers met something warm and wet. The smell of rust hit my nose; it was too dark to see, but I assumed it was my blood. I reached around the floor of the car searching for my cell. Once I found it, I mashed the power button and waited for it to power up. When the screen remained black, I yelled obscenities at the steering wheel. Unable to get it working, I threw it on the seat and flung the door open, falling to the ground on my hands and Jell-O-like knees, violently shaking. The dizzy feeling making me want to puke, I clutched at my pounding skull in an effort to calm the herd of bulls stampeding around in my brain.

. A few moments passed, and I finally caught my breath. I pulled myself up with the help of the open door. I leaned against it while I caught my bearings.

Inspecting the front of the car with the small amount of light from the one working headlight, I sighed and leaned down to examine the damage. Someone had jammed a tree into my engine block.

God damn it! This was just my luck.

It seemed I’d caused a fair bit of damage. It was definitely not drivable, based on the shattered glass, the dripping water and the tree currently parading as a hood ornament.

On top of my destroyed car and dead cell, I obviously still had no shoes; it was some ungodly hour of the morning, and the last form of civilization I passed was about twenty miles back down the road.

The cow I almost hit stood motionless in the middle of the road. Seeing the stupid thing standing there like nothing had happened made me see red. I stomped over to the senseless creature and shoved at its side. Its tail swished but other than that it made no signs of moving.

“You stupid, fat, piece of meat! I hope you’re happy! Look what you’ve done! You just had to screw everything up, didn’t you! Didn’t you! You dumb shit! I was about to start my goddamn life!
Gahhhhh
!” My throat protested as I screamed loudly and stomped my foot.

Energy expended, I dropped my forehead onto the cow’s side. My eyes shut tight; I continued to yell at the top of my lungs.

“S’cuse me, ma’am. You mind not givin’ my cattle a hidin’?” A smooth male voice asked from behind me.

Jumping a solid foot in the air, I screamed long and loud. My hand flew to my heaving chest and I spun around, stepped back quickly, and bumped into the idiotic beast behind me. “Shit, sorry! It was in the middle of the road and I almost hit it.” I paused a moment. “Wait, it’s yours? Why is it in the middle of the road?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips in annoyance.

The headlights from his truck shined softly up from the side of the road, backlighting his silhouette and leaving his face concealed in shadow. I must have been in a state to not have heard his truck or seen the lights. Another bout of hysterical laughter bubbled up from my chest. Today couldn’t get any worse.

I was barefoot, standing in the middle of the road trying to beat up a cow, probably looking deranged and homeless while some tall, built cowboy came along to witness my meltdown.

Of course.

Why the hell not?

“You all right there, ma’am? Are you hurt?” The cowboy moved forward a step, one hand palm up as he approached me, as if he thought I might turn tail and run.

Not likely, considering I was trapped between an eight-hundred pound animal and a solid wall of muscled man. “You’ve gone and banged your head good there,” he drawled, gesturing to my head.

I’d forgotten about the cut on my brow. I imagined I looked like a busted can of biscuits. Sobering up quickly, I straightened, putting my hand up to stop his rather intimidating approach.

“I’m fine really, but your stupid animal was in the middle of the damn road and I swerved so as not to hit the ginormous thing and crashed my car.” I took a second to assess the man in front of me. I didn’t know if I should be worried or not. A female out on a deserted road with a stranger. I mean, he could be some sort of weird-ass serial killer for all I knew. He didn’t act or look like one, but then again, what did I know about criminal profiling?

I rolled my eyes at myself, and the excessive rambling I was doing inside my head. “Have you got a cell phone so I can call for a tow truck please?” I asked as politely as possible. If I could get my car towed back to the closest town, I could find a hotel for the night and figure out what to do from there.

I was answered by a short husky laugh that had my stomach fluttering. “Darlin’, you ain’t gonna get a tow out here at this time of night. Damn, you ain’t gonna get one out here for another three days, at the least. Tommy’s visitin’ family.”

Oh, hell no. What was I supposed to do now?

“I really don’t care who this Tommy guy is, but I’m sure there has to be a tow truck somewhere in town. Can you help me or not?” I snapped.

The day’s festivities had finally caught up with me. I was fed up, tired and had just suffered through the worst day ever. I also didn’t appreciate the condescending tone his voice carried.

Another cocky cowboy. No surprises there. I’d met a few of them over the years and they were always the same. Arrogant assholes.

“You ain’t from round here, are ya?” he asked.

“No, I’m not. I’ve had a horrible day. I’ve driven for hours and your shit-for-brains animal made me crash my damn car. I’m tired, sore and not at all in the mood to sleep on the side of the road. So can you or can you not call me a tow truck?”

Nice Amelia had left the building.

His voice turned hard as he instructed, “Get in the truck. You can stay at the ranch tonight and call somebody to come get you in the mornin’.”

Get in his truck?

I had no idea who he was. Why the hell would I get in his truck? I stood there, rooted to the spot, contemplating my choices. Get in the car with an annoying stranger or wait out on the side of the road?

Damn it!

I didn’t like my options, but it was becoming clear I would have to get in his truck and pray to God he wasn’t an ax murderer because a woman waiting on the side of the road, all alone…that was just asking for trouble.

“If you need anything outta the car, you best be gettin' it. I won’t be long. Gotta take care of this ‘shit-for-brains animal’, and then we’ll get going.”

I didn’t like the snark in his voice and I was done being told what to do; rude or not, I wasn’t about to let him boss me around. I stood my ground, arms crossed over my chest, chin up, playing the defiant girl I had never been allowed to be.

Lord only knows why I chose that moment to practice being stubborn, but to hell with men and their stupid cowboy hats.

“You fixin’ to be stubborn? Knock ya socks off, darlin’,” Cocky cowboy called me out on my stunt.

I watched as he walked up to the cow and pulled out his cell. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but not five minutes later, another truck pulled up; its lights shone directly onto the cowboy.

My God, he’s gorgeous.

I felt the heat rising in my face as I took him in for the first time. Brown, scuffed cowboy boots paired with washed-out Wranglers, were held tight with a huge metal belt buckle and topped with a well-worn white cotton t-shirt. His shirt strained against his defined body. I was too far away to get a good look at his face, but what I could see under his big black cowboy hat was a hard chin that screamed
nibble me
.

“Howdy, ma’am. Sorry ‘bout the hold up.” Rumbled another husky voice.

I spun around, taking in the two cowboys staring at me. The sight alone made my knees turn to jelly. The second cowboy moved forward, his hand out. I reached mine forward and he took it in both of his and shook it gently. I could feel the hard callouses on them.

They were large, rough and hard, definitely working hands. The gentleness in them surprised me.

Dear Lord, what was I? Some type of hand tramp?

“Austin’s the name. I’m sure my brother, Destry, didn’t think to introduce himself so please excuse his manners. Dropped on his head a few times, he was. And you are?”