Page 27

Chapter Twenty

R ory sang with Tim McGraw at the top of his lungs as he headed into town to pick Luke up at Avery’s.

They had plans that involved food and nookie—not necessarily in that order and not necessarily in single amounts.

Hell, if he was lucky he could have a three-fer tonight, interspersed with dinner and dessert, then a two-fer in the morning with breakfast between.

A guy could dream, right?

Luke was getting his stamina back, if not always his muscle control. There had been one awkward night where Luke’s left thigh had cramped while Rory sucked him, two fingers inside that tight ass he had yet to test any other way. Disaster. Pure disaster, but Luke could laugh about it now.

They were working their shit out, no question.

There was a truck behind him, running lights on, coming fast, and he straddled the shoulder to let whoever it was pass. Probably someone from the Metroplex. They always seemed to be in a hurry, and to forget life was slower out this way.

Tim McGraw turned into Kris Kristofferson and he was off in his own world, singing again, when the truck slammed into his left bumper. He slapped his hand on the emergency button of his GPS before turning into the skid. Fuck a doodle goddamn do.

The big dualie stopped twenty yards down the road. Then backed up.

“Is there an emergency in the vehicle, sir?”

“Yes. Yes, someone’s fucking trying to kill me.” He made sure the truck was running and straightened up in the seat. Harris wanted to play chicken? He had good insurance. “Send the sheriff, ASAP.”

“Stay on the line while I call the police, sir. What has happened?” The very calm voice made this all seem so much more surreal.

“Someone’s hit my truck, and they’re coming for another round.”

He slammed down on the gas when the truck got close and damn near killed them both, but he managed to get moving again, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. Rory peeled out, trying to put as much space as he could between them.

“Sir? Try to find a safe, public place to pull off.”

“I’m working on it.” He was three miles from Avery and Luke, and he didn’t know if that was safe or public, but it was where he was going.

“Stay calm and try not to run off the road.”

The bastard gunned it again, zooming up behind him. Rory swerved, which meant the jerk missed at the last moment.

“Doing my dead-level best. I’m heading into town. I’m going to stop at Avery Masters’s. He does therapy in his outbuilding.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hell, at this point the voice had changed, and he thought he was talking to the local emergency operator. “We’ll try to have a car there, as well as on its way to you on the road.”

“I’m close. I’m going to warn them.” He hit his hands-free. “Call Luke.” Now. Now, hurry.

The truck clipped him again, and the urge to turn this big bitch around and ram the fucker filled him up to the brim.

Thank God he wasn’t in the Mustang.

“Luke’s in the hot tub , man.”

“Someone’s trying to run me off the road. I’m three minutes from you!”

“What?” Avery’s voice rose.

“You heard me, you motherfucker! Help! Me!”

The next blow caught him on the left side, the guy trying to push him off the road and this time, he slammed on his brakes, the big Dodge screaming and shuddering to a stop as the other truck shot past him.

“Where are you? Have you called the cops?”

“Uh-huh. He just passed me. I’m pulling in your road. You armed?”

“I am now.” Avery sounded cold as ice.

“Rock on.” He wasn’t sure he could manage to find the pistol in his glove compartment, much less load and aim it. He was shaking but good.

Avery stood on the porch when he squealed to a halt. The tires threw up gravel and his springs were still rocking when he hopped out, Avery waving madly in the headlights.

He nodded and hurried over, his legs damn near too shaky to hold him.

“Come on.” Avery grabbed him around the waist and yanked him into the house. Luke sat at the window with a rifle in his hands, face set in stone.

“Cops on their way?” Luke asked.

“Uh-huh.” He blinked then shook himself. Come on. Focus. Focus, man. Luke is watching you .

Luke jerked his head at Avery. “Come man the window.” Once Avery took the rifle, Luke wheeled right over to him. “You in one piece?”

“Yeah. Yeah, don’t know about my truck. It’s running, though. Sheriff should be here soon. Hey you.”

“Hey.” Luke took his hand, then tugged him right down into the chair.

He leaned right in, hid his face for a second, and just breathed. If he was shaking, Luke didn’t mention it. Rory thought that was right decent.