Page 6 of Cold Foot Cash (Wreck’s Mountains #4)

Harley adjusted the ice bucket to her other arm, and tried to figure out why in creation this ice machine had a dozen buttons. She set the small bucket on the platform and squinted at the buttons, searching for the right one.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” someone said down the hallway.

Harley cast a glance at a couple who was staring out the double doors, toward the street. Flashing police lights lit up their faces.

She straightened up. “Is everything okay?” she called down to them.

“There’s a bunch of police across the street,” the woman answered, looking worried.

A dark feeling snaked through Harley. Cash had only left twenty minutes ago.

The flashing lights against those peoples’ faces would probably be burned into her memory for always as she jogged to see what they were staring at.

When she reached the doors, sure enough, police were parked around the bar she’d been at earlier.

The bad feeling grew, and stretched, and unfurled inside of her like a thick fog.

“Excuse me,” she whispered, pushing past the people to shove the door open.

It felt like time slowed as she ran across the street toward the bar. It was Cash. She knew it was Cash. She didn’t understand how she knew, but she did.

She ran between two empty police cruisers and around the building to the back. There was an ambulance, and some medics checking in with several familiar people from the bar. The guy who had taken pictures of her earlier slid a glare to her, but his face was swollen and bloodied. She could barely recognize his friends with the medics, because they’d been beaten badly. There were others she didn’t know, and when she scanned the parking lot, there was a pickup truck with busted out windows. Against the brick wall of the bar stood Cash.

He looked completely normal except for one thing—his hands. His knuckles were bloody as he gestured to the guys, explaining something to one of the police officers. Anger smoldered in his eyes, but he was talking calmly enough.

“Cash?” she asked softly, approaching.

Cash’s eyes darted directly to her, and the anger cooled in an instant. “No, I don’t want you here. I don’t want you seeing any of this.”

“What’s happening?”

“Ma’am, we need you to stay back,” a tall officer said, holding his hand out.

“Is that your truck?” she asked, shocked. “They broke your windows out?”

“I’m just explaining everything now. Go back to the motel. Please.”

Shocked, Harley scanned the parking lot, taking it all in again. They must’ve busted out his windows. For what? Because he’d made them leave after they took pictures of her? She didn’t know why the next words came out of her mouth. They surprised her just as much as they probably surprised Cash. “I want to go home.”

“Okay, okay,” he said. “That’s okay. I don’t really want you driving back this late but—”

“No, I mean, I want to go back to our room. I want to get away from them,” she said, pointing to the guys Cash had clearly beaten the shit out of.

Cash’s eyebrows drew down. “What?”

“I want to go back to our room. I don’t like those guys.”

“Ma’am, did you see what happened?” the tall officer asked.

“Part of it.” She gestured to the guys over with the police and medics. “Those guys were taking pictures of me playing pool earlier, and my…” She cleared her throat. “My boyfriend told them to leave.”

“He ruined my phone!” one of the guys yelled.

She wanted to scream back at him about busting out Cash’s windows, but she needed to keep her cool right now.

“He did mess up a phone,” she said honestly. “He deleted the pictures of me off it and dropped it into one of their beers.”

One of the officers snorted a laugh, but then cleared his throat and said, “Go on.”

“He told them to leave, because I was uncomfortable. We were fine and left a little while later. We’re staying across the street,” she said, pointing in the direction of the motel. “He came out to his truck to get something.”

“When you came out to your truck, what happened?” the tall officer asked Cash, who was still staring at her like she’d lost her mind.

“I noticed the guys waiting for me. That dude had a baseball bat and my windows were busted out.”

The tall officer—Officer Romo, his nametag read—asked, “Who took the first swing?”

“The guy with the bat. He aimed for my head.” Cash shrugged. “I didn’t feel like dying today, so I fought back.”

Two of the other officers near Cash exchanged glances. “You fought all of them?”

“Yes sir,” Cash murmured.

“Are you a shifter?”

Cash nodded. “I gave them a chance to back out of it. I just wanted them to get away from my truck. I’m already going to have to pay to have the windows all replaced and the freakin’ doors and mirrors. That’s my truck, man.”

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” Officer Romo asked him.

“A couple beers. The bartender can show you my tab. I’m fine with that. It’ll show a beer for me and the lady, and then she bought me a beer and herself a margarita an hour after that. Check her tab too, if you want.”

“He seems fine,” one of the other officers said low to Officer Romo. “We always have trouble with Brake and his guys.”

“Hey, this one ain’t on us!” Brake, Harley assumed his name was, yelled.

Officer Romo glared at the guys, and then blew out a breath and said, “Okay, I just need both of you to write your statements and sign them, and then you can leave. I’ll give you the case number. It might help you with an insurance claim for the truck. Go straight to the motel though okay? No more fights tonight.”

“Just tonight?” Cash asked through a smirk.

“Ever. No more fights in this town ever. They didn’t even know what they were getting into.” Officer Romo murmured something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like the word, ‘idiots.’

They filled out the statement forms, and then Cash retrieved a few things out of his truck so no one would steal them with the windows all busted out.

She waited with him, and offered to hold the jacket and the flannel he pulled out, but he shook the glass out and told her, “I don’t want you getting cut. I’ll carry them.”

He grabbed a pocket knife from the console and some cash he’d stashed there, then grabbed her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. He nodded to the officers as they passed a few of them, but as they passed the couple of guys lined up on the curb, still getting medical attention for their destroyed faces, he pulled her to his other side, and placed himself between them.

That protective instinct was natural for him. She could tell. He didn’t make a fuss about it, just maneuvered her to his other side and glared down the guys who were watching them leave. “See you soon boys,” he promised.

And she could see it so clearly. Every one of them dropped their gazes. Was it the fire in his eyes, or the promise in his tone? Was it the anger in his voice?

“You’re dangerous, aren’t you?” she asked as he pulled her across the street toward the motel.

“Not to you.” And she believed him.

Cash was quiet as they walked down the hallway together. When they got to the door, he released her hand, and backed off a few feet. Harley unlocked the door, and stood there with it propped open on her shoe.

“I don’t…” He frowned, and wouldn’t meet her eyes. His knuckles still had blood all over them.

She gestured to his hands. “Are you hurt?”

He flinched and shook his head. “They’re already half-healed.”

“I have Advil. I mean, if you want some.”

“I don’t like dulling the ache,” he said softly. “I deserve it.”

“That wasn’t on you,” she argued, giving him grace.

“Don’t let me off,” he uttered.

He was trying to tell her something, right? She leaned her shoulder on the doorframe and studied his face. There was guilt there in his molten gold eyes.

“What did you go to prison for?” she asked, but she already had a guess.

He chewed the corner of his lip and glanced up at her quick, then back down to the floor. “I didn’t want you to see any of that. I didn’t like it. I want to make you smile. That’s it.”

“Okay,” she said low. “What do I say now? I…I guess I don’t understand what you need.”

“You did it.” He inhaled deep and backed off a few more feet. “I’m going to get myself a room.”

“Oh.” Harley swallowed hard. “You can hang in here for a few minutes until the police are gone. Or if you need me to give you a ride to wherever you live?”

“You shouldn’t do anything else for me tonight.” He twitched his head like it was a nervous tic. “Thank you for coming out there and doing a statement. Thank you.”

“Sure.”

Cash ran his hand down his face and forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll see you around, Harley.”

As he walked back down the hallway toward the motel office, she called out, “You really can just hang in my room for a while.”

“Six more days.”

That’s all he said before he disappeared around the corner. Harley’s mouth was hanging open, and she clacked it closed and backed into the room, then closed the door behind her.

The cold wood of the door was cold under her palm.

He was respecting her wishes, right?

Cash was maintaining distance. He was enforcing their boundaries.

She didn’t know if she loved or hated that about him.