Page 46 of The County Line (Whitewood Creek Farm #2)

I try to remain neutral, to mask how much him showing up in my small town unsettles me. But how do you ever prepare to face the ex-husband who hit you the last time you saw him—the man who threatened to destroy you whether you stayed with him or left??

“Jordan,” I say, keeping my voice steady.

Years of police training help me fake confidence, but inside, every nerve is on edge.

My keys are in my hand, my gun locked in the glove compartment of my car.

I know how to take down a threat without either, but Jordan’s not just any threat.

He’s five years older, with five more years of experience on the police force and a man who’s helped train me.

A man who at one time knew my body better than I did.

I don’t let my fear over that show.

“What are you doing here?” I demand, my voice firm, and I’m proud of the way it doesn’t waver.

“I came for you,” he says, his tone softer than I expected it would be. “Can we go somewhere and talk… please? Maybe back inside your house? I just have a few things to say.”

“How did you find me?” I press, ignoring his request. I’m not going anywhere with him ever again.

“I asked around.”

Of course, he did and of course people would tell him what he was looking to know.

He’s still a handsome man, and he’s always known how to use his looks to get what he wants out of people.

Damn small towns. In Whitewood Creek, secrets don’t exist. While people might be wary of strangers, they’re still too friendly.

Someone must’ve been more than happy to tell him where I moved to.

“Well, you’re not welcome here,” I say, keeping my tone casual.

I step toward my car, testing the limits of what he’s going to allow me to do.

I open the passenger door to toss my bag inside—and to get closer to my gun, but Jordan knows me too well.

Of course, he does. He’s the one who helped me pick that gun out eight years ago.

He’s the one who showed me how to properly handle it, and how to get to it quickly if I ever needed to.

“Molly, stop. I know what you’re doing.” His hand clamps down on my arm, keeping me from reaching it. I pull away, but his grip only tightens.

I know better than to provoke him, but for the first time in years, I’m not sure what to do next.

My training evaporates, leaving me blank.

Any other perp, and I’d have a plan, a strategy.

But this is Jordan—a man I loved with every piece of myself for nearly a decade.

The man I trusted to protect me, who stood beside me as I said my vows in the warm swamp lands of Louisiana, a guy whose devastatingly handsome face had me missing all the signs of an ugly inside, and who shattered that trust I’d put in him so thoroughly that I’ve spent years trying to rebuild myself from the wreckage.

Now he’s here, and I’m frozen.

Suddenly, Roxy lets out a loud howl and I think I’ve been saved.

She lunges towards Jordan who reacts instantly, his training kicks in and he blocks her bite by deftly dodging it and using my body as a shield instead.

She catches just the edge of my bare leg, enough for her teeth to sink into my calf and draw blood. I let out a scream from the pain.

Roxy notices, realizes what she did, and before I can say anything, howls in anguish and takes off down the street.

“No! Roxy no!” I shout, shaking off Jordan’s grip and moving quickly after her but she’s gone, off into the dark like a little phantom. “Jordan! What the hell did you do?!” I yell, turning on my heel, no longer caring about any fear for my safety or what he might do to try to stop me from leaving.

My blood’s pumping through my ears as my focus tunnels into worry over Roxy.

If something happens to her, Colt will never forgive me.

Hell, I’ll never forgive myself. I love her just as much as he does because she holds a piece of my childhood.

A piece of Maverick that I’ll never get back.

She didn’t mean to hurt me, and I hate knowing she’s out there alone now.

“Molly, wait!” he yells after me.

“No!” I scream, bolting to the driver’s side door. My hands shake as I yank it open, jam the key into the ignition, and throw the car into reverse. Tires screech against the pavement, and I nearly run him down in my fury.

I’m beyond pissed—no, furious. He used me as a human shield, and now he’s run off the love of my life’s dog because she thinks she did something wrong. I slam the car into drive and speed through the city streets, my eyes darting everywhere, searching desperately for any sign of her in the dark.

Nothing. Just endless shadows mocking me and poorly lit streets. My hands tighten around the steering wheel, and a strangled cry escapes my throat as fear claws its way in.

What if she’s been hit? What if she’s lying somewhere, hurt—or worse? What if she’s gone for good?

“Roxy!” I shout out the window, tears blurring my vision. “Roxy, where are you?”

I whip the car down a one-way street, headlights cutting through the gloom, but there’s no sign of her. Panic builds, suffocating me, and I slam my palm against the wheel. Then my phone pings from the seat beside me.

I snatch it up, dread already sinking into my chest when I see Jordan’s name flash across the screen.

Jordan : I have your dog. Meet me at 878 Everest Lane. We need to talk. You’ll get her back after you hear what I came here to say.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I yell, slamming the phone down on the passenger seat. My voice echoes in the confined space, and I stare up at the sky as if it holds the answer to why my life has spiraled into this mess. How did things go from actually looking up for once to the absolute pits.

How foolish of me to think that I’d finally found peace and happiness. That I deserved it after all that I’ve been through.

Now Jordan is holding Roxy hostage—just to force me to talk to him.

The night couldn’t possibly get worse. Colt’s been gone for only a few hours, and I’ve already failed him.

If I can’t protect his dog, how the hell am I supposed to convince him I can handle something bigger? Like raising a family someday?

Tears burn hot trails down my face as I fumble for my phone, my fingers trembling. I don’t want to do this, but I know I have no choice. He needs to know what’s going on in case things get worse here.

I dial Colt’s number, pressing the phone to my ear as I struggle to keep it together.

“Hey baby, we just got to Charlotte. Is everything good there?” his deep voice answers on the first ring.

“Colt,” I choke out a sob, “I’m so sorry.”

His voice drops, rough with concern. “What’s going on? What happened?”

I know—Colt would burn the entire world down for me if I asked, and it’s written in every word of that question.

“Jordan showed up,” I manage to say, my voice trembling.

“Someone in town told him where I live… about the duplex. I didn’t hear him pull into the parking lot or see his car before I stepped outside.

It must have been hidden behind my neighbors’.

I was too busy packing up the kitchen to notice but Roxy could tell. ”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m driving... Colt, Roxy ran off,” I choke out, the sob breaking before I can stop it.

“She lunged at Jordan to protect me, and…” My words catch in my throat, the memory too fresh, too sharp.

I’m supposed to know how to handle situations like this—I’m trained for them—but this isn’t just another crisis.

This is personal. Too personal. “He shifted me in front of his body, and she caught my leg instead.”

Colt hisses through the phone. “Dammit.”

“I’m fine,” I rush to say. “Completely fine. But she saw it. She thought she hurt me, saw the blood, and she ran off,” my voice lowers. “She was so scared.”

“Fuck.” His voice is tight with anger.

“I’ve been driving around, looking everywhere for her,” I continue, my panic building. “I haven’t been able to find her. And then Jordan just texted me. He says he has her. He told me to meet him at some address right outside of the county limit.”

“Molly,” Colt says, his voice harder now, commanding. “Listen to me right now. Do not go to that address.”

“I have to, Colt!” My voice cracks, desperation clawing at me. “Roxy’s terrified. She probably thinks it’s her fault—that she hurt me. I have to get her back. I have to save her.”

“No, you don’t. I’m coming back.”

“No, you can’t!” My heart clenches at the thought of him missing out on the grand opening that he’s worked so hard for because of me.

Because of the ghosts of my past that have come back to haunt me and because I couldn’t take care of his girl.

“You’re still on parole, Colt. You can’t violate it this close to being done.

It’s too long of a drive and outside of your approved area, and by the time you get here, it’ll be past ten at night. I can handle this.”

“Molly, no!” he barks, his frustration bleeding through the phone.

But I already know what I’m going to do. Even if it means defying him.

“Jordan won’t hurt me,” I say, steadying my voice. “I could see it in his eyes.”

At least, I don’t think he will. And if he tries, this time I’ll be armed and ready.

Colt goes silent, understanding exactly what I’m saying, and I can hear the tension in every second of his hesitation.

If I give him even a shred of room, he’ll be in the car heading straight for me.

I can’t let that happen. I’m an officer, I’ve been trained in de-escalation techniques.

I can protect myself. I can do this on my own.

I’ve been doing it my whole life.

“I’ve got this, Colt,” I say softly. “I love you. I’ll text you the address where I’m going and keep my location tag on.”

And before he can argue with me, I hang up the phone, make a left off the main strip and head straight towards Everest Lane.