Nash: A Rough Romance by Piper Stone (book series for 12 year olds txt) 📕

God. Oh… I bit back a strangled cry. “Are you really all right?”

“They didn’t hurt me. They just… threatened me.”

She wasn’t telling me everything. “Threatened you? What did they say?”

“They tried to find you, Mitch. They searched my apartment, tossing everything.” Her laugh was almost maniacal. “Don’t worry. I lied and told them nothing.”

Lied? She had no idea where I was going. I’d purposely kept the information from her. “What did you tell them, Jess? I need to know!”

“Just that you’d left town and they’d never be able to find you.”

The words likely told them I’d gone far away from Chicago. I curtailed my nerves and my increasing anger. She certainly shouldn’t have to face any additional strife because of my poor choices. “What else did you tell them?”

“Nothing. What could I tell them?” Her insistence sounded far too convenient. Christ. What was I doing? Trying to convince myself that everyone in my life had betrayed me?

“But they left you alone?”

“Yes,” she murmured, although the single word did little to convince me.

“Maybe you need to get out of town for a little while. Don’t you have an aunt who lives in Indiana?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then maybe you should go there,” I suggested, although I had a feeling that she wasn’t going to follow my advice.

She issued a series of exaggerated breaths before answering, “Maybe I will.”

“I’m so sorry, honey. I really am.”

“I know you are and it’s not your fault. Just… Just don’t call me again. Okay?”

The words hurt more than I cared to admit, although she was right. I shouldn’t have called her in the first place. “I won’t. At least not until Dante is arrested and sent to prison for a long time.”

“As if that’s going to happen,” Jessica snorted.

Everything about her words was entirely out of character. I shuddered deep inside, a single tear sliding down my face. “You’re such a good friend, Jess. Thank you. Just be safe.”

“You too.”

I wasn’t shocked she ended the call; I was just saddened that I’d lost so much. My legs felt like jelly, forcing me to drop to the couch. I held the phone in my hands, fingering the screen. She’d been my last lifeline to my past. Would I ever see Chicago again? Would I ever walk the streets, enjoying the vibrancy of the city? While that remained to be seen, I had my doubts.

Even the nagging inner voice was suddenly quiet.

I closed my eyes, continuing to shake. What a horrible situation to be in.

When I heard a rumble of an engine outside, I tensed, sucking in a cry of anguish. It was far too soon for Reaper and Scorpion to have returned. Who the hell was outside? While I remained shaky, I moved quickly into the kitchen, yanking out drawer after drawer until I found what I was looking for.

A butcher knife.

At least I’d have some form of protection against the asshole who’d stopped by.

In my mind, I envisioned Dante’s face, his sly smirk as he studied me, and I could still hear his last words.

“You are mine.”

I shifted toward the kitchen door, able to hear that whoever had driven up intended on staying, the engine cutting. While I knew I was a fool, I walked toward the front door, unable to hear if anyone had approached. Very slowly I moved toward the front window, slyly attempting to peer through the blinds. There was no one there.

Fucking fantastic. They were casing the house, likely realizing that the truck remaining out front with the big blue tarp over the windshield was the one they were looking for.

No. No!

The words almost left my throat. I inched closer to the door, unable to stop a single yelp as someone jiggled the door. Then a key or some implement in an attempt to break in was shoved into the lock.

Fuck. Fuck!

I took a step back, lifting the knife, my breath skipping. As the door opened, I firmed up my grip on the knife.

“No!”

As my arm dropped, I realized almost too late that the person standing in front of me wasn’t some monster.

The intruder was a woman, one with eyes wide open in horror.

Jerking back, I blinked several times.

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded, her gaze suddenly turning entirely different. “And where’s Scorpion?”

“He’s…”

She darted her glance toward the knife then backed away a few feet, her mouth twisting. “I don’t know what the fuck this is, but you don’t belong here. I’m his fiancée.”

I wanted to laugh at her words, but I could tell how distraught she was. “That’s not what this is.”

“Uh-huh. Then why don’t you tell me what the fuck it is? Or would you prefer I grab my Colt revolver from the truck. We can settle it, although bringing a knife to a gunfight isn’t in your best interest.”

I glared at the knife in my hand then lowered it. I’d never felt so damn awkward. I stuck out my other hand, trying to offer a ridiculous, loopy kind of smile. “I’m Mitch. Mitch Donovan.” As if introducing myself made the situation any better.

“You are not going to take anything from me.”

“Uh, no. I’m with Reaper.” With? What the fuck was I saying?

“Reaper?” A smile crossed her face, her eyes opening even wider. “When did he get into town? We’ve been expecting him. Well, his friends have. He’s never actually met me.”

I was befuddled by her now happy and animated expression. I’d just almost killed her, for God’s sake. “Um. Last night.”

“No wonder Coop didn’t call me. I was worried.”

“Coop?”

She laughed then extended her arm. “I’m Caroline Walker, Cooper’s fiancée. Well, I hope I’ll be his fiancée anyway. The name Scorpion is from his time in the Marines.”

I cautiously shook her hand, glancing over her shoulder into the front yard, half expecting to see at least two other vehicles pulling up, men with guns rushing toward the cabin. “Do they all have nicknames?”

“Yes, they do.” Caroline removed her hand, shoving both into her pockets. “Now, forgive me for sounding rude, but who are