May 2, 2012
Austin, Texas
"You're so sure of yourself aren't you, cowboy?" I hiss as he stears Rebel towards my truck and trailer, through the crowds of people standing around. This man is already really starting to get on my nerves in only the fifteen minutes I've known him.
As sexy as he was, he is still a class A jerk, in my opinion.
"I just know what I want. I always get what I want." He states matter of fact. I can't help but roll my eyes.
Such an arrogant asshole. Ugh!
"Trust me, cowboy, I'm not what you want. I'm nobody special." I tell him truthfully as he stops Rebel by my truck and trailer. How did he even know this was my truck? I wonder to myself but don't dare ask him.
"Oh, but Miss Jackson, you are. I know what I want. You." He simply states sliding off the horse to the ground.
I want to hit him, I think to myself, really fucking bad.
Before I know it, he grabs my waist and lifts me to the ground causing me to squeal. For a minute, he doesn't let me go, he just stares down at me as one hand caresses my cheek tenderly. Gray eyes meeting forest green.
Just one touch of his hand has my stomach clenching, one look has goosebumps traveling all over my skin. Desire pooling deep in my belly.
"I-..., uh, let me just get Rebel taken care of then we can get this date over with." I say wiggling out of his grip. He chuckles a bit at my actions.
"Miss Jackson, you are one of a kind." He gives me a half smile, showing his perfect white teeth.
Ah! It just makes him more handsome. Dammit!
Breathtakingly beautiful.
"Well, I should hope so, Mr. Adams." I mumble, sarcastically. I shake my head in disbelief, unsaddling Rebel with shaking hands.
What does this guy want with me? There are so many, much more beautiful girls around here than myself. And yet he wants to choose me?
He better not just be wanting sex, cause he is not getting it from me!
That is the one thing I refuse to give to somebody I do not love. The one thing in my life I have control over. My innocence.
"Here. I'll put him in." He takes the lead rope from my hands and loads Rebel in the trailer, not even giving me a chance to protest.
"Thanks." He just nods and shuts the door as I put the tack in the bed of my black Ford pick-up.
"So, how about you tell me where to meet you? I have to drop the trailer off and take my horse home first." I cross my fingers behind my back, hoping he will agree, so I can stand him up. I really just want to get away from him.
No, I need to.
"No. I'll drive you." He says, quickly snatching my keys out of my hands. I look at him in shock and my mouth drops open. "I know what you're up to, and you're not getting away that easy." He chuckles, almost evilly.
"Gah! You are the most stubborn, infuriating, man I have ever met!" I yell furiously, stomping my foot after trying to grab the keys he holds over his head. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't reach them. I wasn't about to climb on him to get them either.
"It's a gift, baby." He says, giving me a cocky smirk jingling them in front of my face to taunt me even more. I growl and stomp over to the passenger side door of the truck, climbing in and slamming the door shut to show him just how mad I am.
Dammit, this is just my luck!
"Where too, Laina?" He smirks, trying not to laugh at my little childish outburst.
"Turn left at the entrance, and stay on that road until you reach Alamo road. My house is the second on the right. And don't call me that." I mumble with a frown, crossing my arms like a big baby that had just been scolded.
The whole ride is silent. It's not an awkward silence, in fact, it's quite comfortable. The only thing that can be heard is the low sound of George Straight singing on the radio.
Pulling into my driveway, I show him where to park the trailer by our white barn and he is surprisingly good at backing it up. I take a quick look at the house and the lights are on inside, so I know my dad is still awake, drinking the night away.
"Whatever you do, don't get out!" I tell him seriously and he gives me a curious look.
"Why?" He asks, raising his eyebrows.
"Please, just don't get out." I beg, and he reluctantly nods in agreement. If he gets out my father will flip. I'm sure he's already more than three sheets to the wind or more. And I am not looking to get knocked around tonight if I can avoid it.
I open the door to the trailer and lead Rebel to his stall, making sure he has water and hay. Then run back to my truck and I start to un-hitch the trailer as quickly as I can.
I was hoping to do all this after my dad had passed out so I wouldn't have to deal with him in his drunken rage. Last time I dealt with him, he nearly killed me. My neck was black and blue for weeks.
"Alaina!" I gasp.
Fuck, he heard me out here! I start to tremble with fear. Anticipation of what may happen washing over me like waves crashing against the ocean shore.
"Alaina!!!" His voice is louder this time. I automatically know he is pissed so I don't answer him.
I hear his footsteps coming from the front porch steps. Oh, no, no, no, he's coming out to the barn! Maybe if I ignore him he will go back to the house. I continue to take the chains off the trailer and ball hitch as fast as my shaking hands will allow it.
I scream as he grabs my by my hair and upper arm, slamming my body into the side of the truck, my hat falling to the ground. Tomorrow I will have a bruise there for sure.
"You ignoring me you little bitch?!" God, he smells awful, he smells like Jack Daniel's whiskey and cigarettes. I don't answer him because no matter what I tell him, he will hit me anyways. He isn't worth wasting my breath.
"You are so worthless just like your stupid cunt of a mother!" He hisses letting my hair go but keeping his grip on my arm. I wince at the force. Tomorrow there will be perfect bruise of fingertips. Reminding me of what my life has become. Reminding me of how worthless I really am.
I turn to look up at him. The man I call my father.
His brown hair now starting to gray and thin. His once bright green eyes full of evil, and black as his soul. His face is wrinkled from frown lines and exposure to the sun.
No, this man is not the man I used to call my father.
This man is a monster. Something that you only see in nightmares.
He raises his hand and I close my eyes waiting for the sting. It doesn't come and my arm is released from the harsh grip. I open my eyes and Ryan is standing between my father and I. Ryan has my father by the shirt and their faces are almost touching.
"You lay one finger on her again, and I will show you how it feels to be beaten!" Ryan's voice echos throughout the darkness, daring my father to say another word. I think the crickets even stopped chirping in that moment. Their singing disturbed by the unsettling vibration.
I cling to the back of his shirt trying to make myself smaller, burying my head into the fabric wanting it to swallow me up whole. I just hide like a coward as the man I just met protects me from a member of my own family.
He practically towers over my dads 5'11" frame. Ryan is way bigger than my dad, by at least six inches. More built too. The fear in my father's eyes is there but quickly changes to anger again.
Ryan shoves him backwards, letting him go and grabs my hand, putting me in the truck and we drive away before my father can do any more damage. I watch my dad out the back window as Ryan drives away down the driveway, his fists and jaw clenched. I know this is not over with him, when I come home I will face the wrath of his fists.
I don't dare tell Ryan that though.
I look over at at him. I can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves.
"Was that the reason you didn't want me to get out of the truck?" He asks, his teeth clenched and his knuckles are white gripping the steering wheel. I just nod, avoiding his eyes and look down at my hands.
How can I look at him? I am so embarrassed and ashamed. I bet he wants nothing to do with me now. I shouldn't care but I do.
"Is it okay if we go to Rockie's? I know it's a bar but you need a little cheering up. I figure some dancing will do the trick." He smiles at me, changing the subject. My heart can't help but skip a beat. I can't believe he isn't running for the hills already.
"I'm not old enough to drink. I'm only eighteen." I murmur quietly looking out the window as he pulls out of the driveway. The moonlight outlining the shadows of farm houses as I stare out into the night.
"I'm not either. Not until October. I turn twenty one on the fifth." He says almost proudly.
Well I will be so sure to remember that Mr. Adams, I think to myself. I mentally roll my eyes, at the thought.
"Thanks for the notice. I will be sure to buy you something good." I smirk, turning my head to look at him.
"Baby, just being with you will be the best present I would ever get." He says truthfully. I flush for the thousandth time tonight and am glad he can't see through the dark cab of the truck. This guy has a way with words and I'm sure I'm not the only woman he has tried to seduce with his charm.
I don't think I like the thought of that.
[*]
The bar is crowded. Different colors or neon lights are lit up along the walls, some blinking as they flash the beer logo's. The sound of pool balls clicking together as someone breaks the cluster with the white que. Cheering and cursing follows soon after. The smell of fried food lingers in the air along with cigarette smoke. The jukebox plays some old country song as couples of all varieties dance along the wooden floor with the beat of the music. Swinging their hips and tapping their feet with the rhythm.
Some of the regulars are here along with the a lot of competitor's from the rodeo. Some of the fair carnies are here too, drinking the night away. I'm sure listening to screaming kids all day has taken it's toll on their ears. Their skin is burned from the sun's kiss. I cringe looking at some of them. That's going to hurt for days.
Ryan takes my hand and pushes through the crowd until we find a small table in the back. He is sure to pull my chair right next to him, stretching his arm over the back of it, as if he's an alpha male staking his claim on me. Daring someone to try and take me away from him. The closeness makes me feel very uncomfortable.
"Hey, Alaina! You want the usual?" Dianne, the chubby red headed waitress asks as she stands by our table, giving us a wide smile. She has a glint of humor in her eye's, as if she know's I'm on a date. Word must have traveled fast since the fair. She has known me since I was six years old. A very friendly woman. Her pretty blue eye's always so kind and sweet.
I'm just glad for the distraction from Ryan for a moment and happy she is here.
"That will work." I smile gratefully.
"And for this handsome man?" Her voice squeaks when she looks at him. Really looks at him. Her eye's travel over his body and her face turns red. I hold in a smile that I want so badly to let out.
Okay, so I'm not the only one he has this effect on.
"I will have the same." He doesn't look at her and his eyes never leave me. It's like he's analyzing my every move. Trying to figure me out. Like my body is a book encrypted with a foreign language he cannot translate just yet.
I squirm in my seat, his hard gaze makes me feel awkward. My mind is telling me to run out of here, and my body refuses to move and obey.
"Okay. Give me about thirty minutes." With that she is gone. Leaving me to deal with this guy.
"Wanna dance with me?" He asks as soon as she is out of sight. I turn to look at him wide eyed.
"No way! Go find another woman to dance with! A better one! I will just sit here and keep my chair warm." I order and shake my head while crossing my arms, there is no way I am dancing. I have two left feet. I've already been embarrassed enough tonight.
"Come on. Trust me." He says calmly, getting up holding out his hand. I hesitate, biting my lip.
Trust? Something that doesn't come easy for me. Almost everyone I've ever trusted has hurt me.
"Laina, you can trust me." He says in a soothing voice, pulling my lip from my teeth with his thumb, caressing my skin gently with those calloused hands. I look up into his gray eye's, he is giving me a reassuring smile. A real one.
For once, I let some of insecurities go and take his hand, following him on to the dance floor. Praying I don't make an ass out of myself.