Page 39 of Call It Love (Sterling Mill #5)

Anna

“We’re running low on lemonade,” Pam, one of the teen volunteers, mentioned to me. “Do you know where the extra is?”

“I’ll take care of it,” I assured her. “You go enjoy yourself. I’ll keep an eye out for the rest of the evening.”

“Are you sure?”

“Perfectly. Now go find your boyfriend and get him out on the dance floor.”

She nodded her head and took off, causing me to chuckle.

I braced my hands on my hips to look across the barn.

Everyone seemed to be having a great time.

Well, except for Beverly Seymour. I don’t think she’d relaxed once since she arrived.

But she had to be pleased with the success of the event.

Not only had we sold more than the minimum number of tickets we’d hoped to, but the silent auction was exceeding my expectations as well.

Both local merchants and a few contacts I had reached out to really came through, and there were some amazing items.

But all this fun made people thirsty. The moon was almost full in the dark sky, casting just enough light for me to walk to one of the temporary sheds where we had stashed the ice chests with extra drinks.

I’d just opened the lid when a shuffling noise startled me.

I turned to find someone standing in the shadows just outside the door. “I’m sorry, guests aren’t allowed back here.”

A beam of light caught Marcus’s face as he moved closer. “Good thing I work here, then.”

I straightened, my hand resting on the lid of the cooler. “You still shouldn’t be back here,” I said, trying to keep my tone light but firm. “This is more of a staging area, not part of the dance. And you’re not working tonight.”

Marcus gave a lazy shrug and stepped farther into the shed. “Didn’t realize grabbing a drink was a crime.”

“Getting a drink isn’t the problem. It’s wandering into places off limits. So I’d appreciate it if you’d leave so I can lock back up.”

He didn’t move. Instead, he leaned against one of the UTVs stored inside, arms crossed over his chest like he had all the time in the world.

“Pretty good turnout tonight,” he said casually, but his eyes were sharp.

“I gotta admit, I’m surprised you pulled it off.

Of course, you had a lot of help. Me included. ”

“Team effort,” I replied shortly, pulling a gallon of lemonade from the cooler. I didn’t like the way he was watching me, like a snake coiling to strike.

“Sure,” he said. “But we all know who’s been running the show. You and Chase. Must be nice, playing house again.”

That stopped me cold. “Excuse me?”

He pushed off the beam and stepped closer, dropping any pretense of niceness, and staggered toward me. He’d obviously been hitting something harder than what we were serving, and I knew Cheyanne was an expert at remembering who she served and how much they drank.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “It’s cute, really. You return, and suddenly Chase is acting like you never skipped out on him. Or forgot who you left him for. You didn’t mourn your husband very long before you jumped into someone else’s bed.”

I tried not to flinch at his cheap shot. He didn’t know what he was talking about, but it still stung.

“You’re drunk, Marcus,” I said evenly. “Why don’t you go home? I’ll find someone to drive you.”

His jaw clenched as his voice rose. “Everything ran smoother before you showed up. We didn’t have to jump through hoops. Didn’t have to clean up barns for fucking dances or babysit some dumb kid.”

His reference to Jordan had my spine stiffening even more.

“You think you’re better than me now? Just ‘cause he wants you? You think this place is better with you? I’ve got news for you. It’s a mess. Everything’s more work.”

“You need to leave,” I said, louder now, hoping someone heard me over the distant murmur of music from the barn. “Go sleep it off before you say something else you’ll regret.”

“Regret?” he scoffed, laughing bitterly. “The only regret is letting someone like you change everything around here, just because you’re screwing the boss.” He stumbled toward me and grabbed my arm. “I was the one who was nice to you. You smiled and flirted with me. You let me think?—”

I yanked my arm back. “I never flirted,” I snapped. “If I smiled, it was because I was being polite.”

I took a step back, only to catch my heel on the cooler behind me. I nearly fell .

That was all the opening he needed.

He lunged, yanking me off-balance and into him. The pungent smell of alcohol and sweat hit me like a wall. His hand clutched at my neckline, trying to drag me closer. His mouth came toward mine.

I twisted away, panic flooding every nerve. I opened my mouth to scream, but his hand, rough and calloused, slammed down over it.

I fought as hard as I could, kicking and reaching blindly until my fingers found his face. I raked my nails across his cheek.

“You bitch!” he roared, releasing me for half a second.

Then the world went white-hot as his fist met my face. Pain bloomed behind my eye, and an explosion of stars filled my vision. My knees gave out, and I hit the ground hard, the taste of blood sharp on my tongue.

I fought through the daze, trying to push myself up.

But the shadow looming above me told me this wasn’t over yet.

My head throbbed, but I knew I had to get out.

Just yards away, the din of music and people laughing rang like a beacon.

I tried to drag myself to the open door.

So close. If I could make it a few feet, maybe someone would see and help.

A boot landed on my hand and pressed down. Through blurred vision, I saw the fury in Marcus’s eyes. He was more than drunk. He was unhinged. The boot lifted from my hand, only to swing backward. I knew what was coming next. I curled into a fetal position and waited for the blow.

Only the impact never came.

There was a rush of motion, and suddenly Marcus was tackled from behind and thrown to the ground. Then Chase was on him, landing punch after punch. I heard shouts, then the sounds of pounding footsteps. Clay and Zach reached Chase first, grabbing his arms and pulling him back.

“Chase, that’s enough!” Zach barked.

“Let it go, man,” Clay added, grunting with the effort.

Chase shook them off, but he let Marcus go, crumpled and bleeding in the dirt.

He spun back toward me, his face still tight with barely contained fury—but when he saw me, something in him broke.

“Anna,” he said hoarsely, his voice cracking. He crossed the space between us in three long strides and sank to his knees. He helped me to sit up, his hands not seeming to know where to go. “Where are you injured?”

“He hit me in the head,” I murmured shakily as the shock started to take hold. Chase cursed, then pulled me into his arms.

I let him.

For a second, I couldn’t do anything else.

He tucked me against his chest, one hand cradling the back of my head like he was afraid I might shatter.

“It’s over,” he murmured fiercely into my hair. “He’s never going to touch you again. Not ever. I swear it.”

I pressed my face against him, breathing in the familiar, steadying scent of him, and tried to stop shaking.

Reid and several deputies surrounded Marcus and, none too gently, dragged him to his feet and cuffed him.

“Get that piece of shit out of here,” Chase called. “And it goes without saying, you’re fired.”

Marcus didn’t even flinch as the deputies hauled him away.

Around us, voices slowly began to rise as people tried to make sense of what had happened.

And then, cutting through the chaos, I heard Beverly Seymour mutter loudly, “Honestly. Can this town have just one event without something dramatic happening?”

Despite everything, a strangled laugh slipped out of me.

Chase gave a low, disbelieving huff of a laugh, too, his arms carefully tightening around me.

It was ridiculous. Inappropriate. But it was exactly what I needed.

Somehow, sitting there in the middle of the mess, I felt stronger than I ever had before. I’d stood up for myself, then had a host of people back me up. I wasn’t alone anymore.

Someone had grabbed a folding chair for me, and I sat near the edge of the barn where some light spilled out, enough to see, but far away from prying eyes. Mac, Trey, and a few other guys had ushered everyone back into the barn, then stood sentry to keep everyone inside.

Chase stood beside me, even though someone had brought him a chair as well. His jaw was locked, and his arms were crossed tightly across his chest. He seemed tightly wound, as if he was expecting something else dangerous to come out of the shadows.

A few steps beside me, Jordan hovered. His hands were jammed in his pockets as he rocked on his feet. His eyes darted to me every few seconds, as if checking to make sure I was still breathing.

“You guys can sit. I just need a few minutes,” I said, but they glared at me.

“We’ll wait until you get checked out,” Chase said.

I frowned. Chase had wanted to call 911, but I insisted he didn’t. We compromised by calling Doc Moser, who’d checked on Jordan just weeks ago. I didn’t want to be more of a distraction than I already was.

Through the speaker system, I heard Slim say, “Well, folks. That wasn’t exactly the kind of excitement we planned… but heck, it’s still early. Might as well dance it off!”

Mayor Sterling squawked out from somewhere nearby, “Drunks and skunks! Lock ‘em up!”

Laughter rippled through the barn. The band struck up a fast, upbeat tune, and I heard Slim encourage people to hit the dance floor. From the sound of it, people were.

I breathed a sigh of relief. People weren’t leaving. The night wasn’t ruined.

I closed my eyes, taking in some deep calming breaths.

“Mind if I take a look?”

I opened my eyes to see a pretty woman I didn’t recognize standing in front of me, a large bag slung over her shoulder.

“I’m Dr. Beth Monroe. I’m still pretty new to town, so I haven’t met many people, but I work at the clinic. Dr. Mosier knew I was here and called me.”