Tobias: Book One of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Nineteen

Stifling the urge to high tail it and flee like the idiotic coward she was, Jane drove the last half mile to Tobias's house. He had been calling her time after time for the past two days, but she had ignored the calls, knowing that apologizing to him over the phone just wouldn't be right.

It had been her fault. Not his. She had been the one to wear that stupid, too revealing dress. She had known that was she was wearing had made her look like an extremely loose tramp of a woman, but with the promise of tempting Tobias so close at hand, she had gone against her morals and worn the dress.

She and Karen had been preparing for over two hours, going through everything in Karen's large walk-in closet. The dress had originally been given to her friend for merely the purpose of going out to expensive clubs, and Karen had exclaimed that it would be perfect for the situation.

Then, when they had been eating something had immediately felt wrong. He hadn't said a word the entire time they were eating, making her feel entirely self conscious. She hadn't known that just wearing a dress like that would attract so much attention; the thought had just slipped her mind. A mistake that had not gone unnoticed.

After Tobias had excused himself to go use the restroom, an older man at around the age of fifty had approached her table, shamelessly flirting with her even though his own date had been sitting a few feet away. She looked around helplessly, praying for Tobias to come back sooner. Instead, Kyle Luctor, one of her recent patients, had come to the rescue, telling the older man something that was convincing enough to get him to move back to his table.

That was how the next couple of minutes went. Kyle stood looming over her. She had always enjoyed talking with the thirty-three-year-old man about his privately owned business but had never felt anything else for the handsome man. And he was handsome, she had to admit. Pleasant brown eyes, model-like face, and a straight nose, she was surprised that he had come alone that night.

He had just asked her who the man she was with was when Tobias suddenly grabbed the collar of his suit and punched him right in the middle of his face. She hadn't seen it coming and definitely not understood the motivation behind it. At the time, she hadn't realized it looked like Kyle had been flirting with her, but now, she knew differently.

A few minutes later, she had found herself sitting at the bar, drinking one hundred fifty-proof vodka that scorched and burned a treacherous path down her throat. She had never been a conceited woman, but the number of men who had offered her a ride in his luxurious car was beyond belief. She had been thinking about Tobias the whole time, hating herself for being so brash. It was her fault, not his.

The heaviness of guilt that pitted itself in her stomach almost kept her on her Harley, weighing her down until she dismounted the bike. She walked the rest of the way down the gravel driveway, giving herself time to think with every crunch of the gravel underneath her shoes. He deserved a formal apology face to face, not over the phone.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw his truck parked outside of the garage, a generous amount of split wood piled on the truck bed. As she walked closer, the blare of the song Hold On by All That Remains rang through the trees and into her ears, pounding away into her head.

She watched as Tobias carried a large armful of wood over to the truck bed, throwing the heavy pieces with a roar of fury. Cringing at the sound, she made her way over to him, disappointed that he hadn't seen her standing by the driveway. At the entrance to the shed now, she once again stared as he brought the axe down with much greater force than necessary.

A dense coating of five o'clock shadow covered his angular jaw, absorbing the sweat that trickled down his face, shoulders, and back. His black, long shorts were coated with pieces of bark, his black Nike shoes looking worn down. The palms of his hands dripped dark red blood with every movement he made.