Espino, Stacey - Midlife Ménage [Ride 'em Hard 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (10 page)

Chapter Eight

Wendy had been avoiding him when he finally felt a closeness between them. He thought things would move to the next step, and he’d even given serious thought to the future. If need be he’d leave the rodeo, settle down and farm like a family man. Anything to make Wendy happy. Jackson knew he couldn’t keep up his lifestyle forever unless he wanted to meet an early grave. The rodeo was for young men with a death wish, not men who wanted forever with one special woman.

He came home late one evening, expecting to head straight to bed, but was greeted with hollering as soon as he neared the house. Jackson opened the door, the soft light from the kitchen illuminating the hallway. He slipped off his vest and hung it on the coat tree.

“Do you think I want this for you? All the sacrifices I’ve made and you treat your life with such disregard?” Wendy was shouting loud enough to ring in his ears. She was usually a quiet, thoughtful woman, not easy to rile.

“I love him!” screamed Kylie.

“You don’t! You’re obsessed, lookin’ for love where you have no right. If your father were here he’d never—”

“Well he ain’t here. He never
will
be here either!”

He heard a smack and then Wendy rushed out into the hall, colliding with him before he reached the kitchen. She looked up at him briefly, but continued to storm off to her room and slam the door shut. Jackson would have to find out what was going on, but he figured she’d benefit with a few minutes on her own first.

He entered the kitchen. Kylie was hunched over the wooden table, crying into her folded arms. Her back convulsed in deep waves. It was usually Christine at home most evenings, not Kylie. But he’d still gotten to know her since moving in.

“You all right?”

She shook her head, not looking up.

“Come on now. I’m not your mother. You can talk to me, and it may just make you feel better.”

Kylie said nothing, but lifted her head to look at him. Her right eye was purple and swollen shut, obviously from being hit by a man. “Who the fuck did that to you? Was it that clown Jason?”

“He didn’t mean it,” she said.

“The fuck he didn’t.” He grabbed a wooden chair and twisted it around, straddling it so he could face her. “Darlin’, real men don’t hit women. Cowboys know better if they were raised proper. He should never have put his filthy hands on you.”

“It was my fault. I wanted him to take me to a party, but he wanted to go out with his friends.”

He clenched his jaw, trying to hold on to his temper when it was threatening to take over. While he had a daddy, he was taught how to respect a woman. His mother was always kindhearted and loving to him, and Jackson could never tolerate other men abusing any woman. “Where’s he at?”

“Why?”

“You best tell me, girl. One phone call and I can find out anyway.”

She cried harder, shaking her head back and forth. “Jackson, please. Don’t hurt him. He didn’t mean it.”

“Where?” he demanded, deepening his tone.

She reluctantly gave him the address where he could find the punk. Jason was Kylie’s age, a twenty-two-year-old loser going nowhere fast. Now that he’d added beating women to his résumé, Jackson would show him what it felt like to be picked on by someone bigger than him. Even though nothing had been cemented, especially as of late, he considered Wendy his woman. It was his responsibility to make things right for her.

He grabbed his vest and dug in his pocket for his truck keys. Wendy came out of her room, her eyes red rimmed, as he opened the main door to leave. He met her gaze, and time seemed to stand still for those few seconds. She’d try and stop him, so he left without a word.

* * * *

“Where’s he going?” Wendy asked her daughter. Kylie had made foolish choices against her better judgement, but Jackson was innocent in it all. If he was going where she suspected, he was in danger.

“You know where. Down to Lackey’s River to find Jason.” She started to cry again, sulking like a small child.

“Who are you worried about? Jason or Jackson?”

“Jason, of course! Jackson will rip him to pieces, or didn’t you notice the size of him? Who the hell does he think he is anyway?”

Wendy slapped her open palm on the table. “Bite your tongue, young lady! Jackson’s off to a certain death sentence. Jason’s not alone at the river. He’ll be plastered drunk with half a dozen other no-good losers.”

Kylie’s demeanour shifted, her fear becoming concern. She pressed her lips into a straight line, but knew enough to keep her mouth shut.

With the sun set, her sense of urgency increased. Wendy’s mind raced, processing thoughts and solutions at an alarming rate. She snatched her keys off the hook in the kitchen. “Stay inside and lock the doors. Put some frozen peas in an ice bag and lie down until I get home. I’ll let the dogs out when I leave.”

“You’re not going after him, Ma?”

“No, but I’m getting help.”

Wendy drove without caution, her truck bounding over the rough dirt road. The headlights wavered with each dip, only giving her a partial view of the road in front of her. As her body jostled in the old pickup, all she could think about was Jackson heading into a death trap. Those Cavenish boys and their friends were trouble and then some.

She pulled into the well-lit Laweson Ranch. The exterior lights illuminated the winding path to the house. Wendy braked abruptly, and then ran to the porch, her lungs burning. She pounded on the solid wooden door, ignored the dull ache in her knuckles.
Why isn’t he answering?
After what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, the door opened.

When Wade first saw her, a big grin lit up his face, until he saw the panic in her eyes.

“What’s the matter, baby doll?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her inside. The house had a comforting glow, the scent of apples and cinnamon lingering in the air. “Come sit down, and I’ll get you a mug of warm cider. I pressed it myself this morning.”

She wouldn’t let him bring her further into the house. “I need your help, Wade.”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for.”

Wendy wasn’t sure how to explain she needed help finding Jackson without creating feelings of indifference. Both men wanted her, and she wanted both of them, so there was bound to be a confrontation of great magnitude sooner or later. But all those male emotions of jealousy and possessiveness had to be put on the back burner tonight. Jackson was in trouble, and any good man should want to help another if he could.

“Jason hit Kylie. When Jackson found out, he freaked and headed out to the river to find him.”

“Doesn’t he realize how many guys will be down there at this hour?”

“No, which is why I have to find him.”

Wade didn’t ask her twenty questions or get an attitude with her. He just pulled on a padded jacket from the closet by the door before grabbing his rifle. “Let’s go.”

They took Wade’s truck. It was more reliable than hers. Once they were on the road, the immediate urgency temporarily calmed, he reached over and placed a hand on her knee.

“How’s Kylie?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“She’ll be fine. Nothing time won’t heal.” As much as she was worried for Jackson, her heart still broke for her youngest child. She’d chosen a man who beat her, and didn’t see a problem with it. Wendy wanted better for her daughter. Her two eldest were happily married, and Christine had a good head on her shoulders. Leave it to her baby to bring her such heartache.

As they neared the river, there was no lighting but the headlights in front of them. It was too quiet. Even with their windows rolled halfway down, she couldn’t hear any hooting or hollering that usually accompanied an area overrun with drunks and partygoers. Not even the chirp of insects could be heard.

“This is where he’d come,” she whispered, her nerves on edge. “It’s the place Kylie said Jason would be.” Maybe Jackson had come by and not found Jason. He could be home wondering where she was. She had to keep telling herself that to keep from thinking about what probably happened—that he was near dead in the brush or worse.

“Something ain’t right.” Wade slowed to a crawl, rocks grinding under the tires, and twigs snapping, as they followed the narrow back roads along the side of the forest. There were a couple outlines of cars in the clearing ahead. “Wait here. It’s safer.”

“I’m coming with you.” She slipped out of the truck once he cut the engine and met him around the front. The shadows of trees to their right and bushes along the river’s edge to their left were foreboding.

A car door slammed and an engine started to life. There was a scuffle ahead, and Wade took off running toward it, rifle cocked and loaded in hand. She could barely keep up, never having good night vision herself. “Who’s there?” he called out, his voice deep and authoritative.

* * * *

Jackson held his side as he tried to work his way up to his feet. A moment ago he'd been rolling on the moist grass, giving and taking punishment. He could hear Wade of all people. His presence had scared off the last of those no-good punks. He’d been hurt, but still held his own against the group of men. His knuckles still burned from all the damage he’d inflicted. His blood still burned hot, his adrenaline raging through his veins. No one messed with his woman.

“Let’s get out of here.” Muffled voices echoed out of sight. Another car door slammed. “Grab his arms and get him in the backseat.”

He chuckled to himself. The pussies were running off with their tails between their legs. It had been six to one during the start of the brawl, but Jackson never backed down for a minute. Jason was a coward, ready to raise his hand to an innocent woman, but pathetic when faced with a real opponent. The little shit nearly pissed his pants when Jackson knocked him a new one. If it wasn’t for his friends holding him back, Jackson may never have stopped. He’d only seen red, thinking of how badly Jason had hurt Kylie and upset Wendy.

“I know you’re there, don’t be fools,” said Wade. He got their attention by firing a shot in the air above their heads. The deafening blast briefly brought the forest to life, the sound carrying on the wind. Everything came to a standstill. “I’ve been shooting since I could walk, so it’d be wise for you all to keep still and not provide me with a moving target to aim at.”

“Where’s Jackson?” Wendy called out.

“Right here, darlin’.” Hearing Wendy's sweet voice was music to his ears. Everything he’d done was for her.

“And Jason?”

“I believe they’re loading him in a car now,” said Jackson. She followed his voice through the dark. When she reached him she immediately leapt up against him and wrapped her arms around his chest. He groaned, but stifled the sound. At least one of his ribs had to be broken. It wasn’t the first time. A man didn't escape unscathed from the ring very often.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothin’. You should have seen the other guy.” He chuckled, but also tried to stop. His ribs were too sore to be jostled.

Another engine fired to life in the near distance.

“You’ll pay for this!” It was Jason's voice, a drunken slur. “I’d watch your backs if I were you!” The yellowbelly was quick to taunt now that he was safely in his car, surrounded by his friends. A few minutes ago he was begging for his life, crying like a babe for a teat.

As the other two cars started to drive off, their headlights giving the area a wash of light, Wade fired another shot into the air and then aimed and fired at the rear tires of each car. It created a deafening pop, but didn’t stop their retreat. He felt good Wade had done it just as well.

“I was so worried. Why’d you run off before I could stop you?” she asked, still holding on to Jackson, but not pressing as tight to his chest.

“Exactly. You would have stopped me. Jason needed a good ass-whooping. I warned him never to even look at Kylie again or I’d be paying him another visit.”

“Good man,” said Wade. “That sounds just like what I would have done.”

Jackson felt a connection with the other man, a camaraderie. They both had the same train of thought—Jason needed a lesson. But now the lily-livered drunk had uttered threats, leaving the door open for more crimes against Wendy and her daughter. A deep-seated rage boiled up inside him. He should have finished him while he had the chance. Apparently a good beating wasn't enough of a deterrent for Jason, or maybe they were just idle threats to soothe his ego.