Page 35 of Wildest Forever (Lovelock Bay #3)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

PACEY

I lay awake most of the night.

It isn't uncommon for me.

Normally only three things keep me awake.

My pa, Harlow, and getting shot.

But tonight, six things have kept me awake, but two have been for good reasons.

My pa, Harlow, getting shot; Conrad, kissing Morgan and finding out she was a virgin.

I wasn’t shocked, I don’t think. I kind of thought it anyway. She had never been kissed, so why would I assume she has done anything else.

Kissing her though... now I knew what people meant when they said the ground moved beneath their feet.

Fuck.

I was floating through the air.

Then she kissed me back.

She. Kissed. Me.

Then she thought I was mad.

Fuck.

My hand lifts to my chest and I find myself rubbing in small circles to try and alleviate the ache that resides there.

How the fuck could I be mad at her.

My heart twists.

She called my ma.

Ma sent Aspen.

She's a weakness I hate to admit.

She just gets me.

That's all there is to it.

But to Morgan... well, it could seem a little more than that.

I have a history with Aspen and fine, if I really dug into the depths of my soul there would be a minuscule cube of love there.

But I loved Aspen.

Way back when.

But not anymore.

I still cared for her, yes.

Loved, no.

Sighing, I twist in the sheets and roll on my side, eyes on the door.

Wonder if she’s awake.

Staring at the ceiling.

Wondering what I am thinking and vice versa.

Is she thinking about the kiss?

Is she thinking about more ?

I roll back over, eyes glued on to the white ceiling.

A heavy sigh leaves me, my chest rattling. We were down at Randy's tomorrow, and I cannot wait to be back in the Boot, where we belong. It's our stomping ground and it doesn't seem right sitting across the town line.

But this is Morgan's town. I respected that.

Plus, this is the first time we have all been out in so long.

The week has whizzed past us and to be honest, up until the shit show of today, my week was going pretty good.

Then Conrad happened.

Hand on heart, and I do, I place my hand over my heart, and I focus on the way it beats in a steady, slow, rhythm.It wasn't Conrad that is stirring the pot around here.

My head turns to the door once more when I hear the creak of the floorboard just before my room.

Either she's awake or we're being robbed.

Sitting up, I hold my breath as I listen.

It creaks again.

Looking around my room for something, anything to grab just in case we're under attack but there is nothing.

Shit.

Tossing the covers back, I spring from the bed, swiping my phone from the side table and slipping it into my pocket. Moving towards the door, my fingers curl around the handle as I slowly ease it open, eyes squinted as I try and focus on the dark, narrow hallway.

“Morgan?” I call out but my voice is quiet.

Nothing.

Inhaling heavily, I step out of my room and pace down the hallway towards where she sleeps and just as I do, she appears out of nowhere scaring the living daylights out of me.

I let out a scream, she shrieks and her wide eyes soften when they land on me.

“You scared me, why are you sneaking around!?” her voice is loud, and I swear she sounds a little mad at me.

“Why are you sneaking around?” I narrow my gaze on her and twist my lips.

“I thought someone had broken into the house,” she admits, and I hear the exasperated sigh that leaves her.

“Same,” I shrug a shoulder, and a silly smile graces my lips.

“So, it was just you?”

The smile fades.

“Was it me what?” confusion paints across my face and I watch as she face palms herself.

“Making the noise downstairs,” her brows furrow and my blood runs cold.

“I heard a creak outside my door,” my hands move out and I link my fingers through hers as I pull her into her room and then shut the door.

“Let me out,” she hisses through the door.

“No,” I turn away from her and then roll my eyes.

“Where is your pops’ shotgun?” and fear pricks at the base of my neck.

“You're being dramatic.”

“Am I?” sarcasm drips from my tone and I shake my head from side to side.

Silence for just a moment.

“Top of the closet, locked away, code is 8765.”

I don't reply, I just rush towards Gerry's room and ignore the eerie feeling that creeps over me. I haven't been in here since before he died and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

Pacing towards the closet, I drag the doors open and then fumble with the code to reveal the shotgun. Grabbing it, I check it has bullets then load it.

I am hoping it's just an animal digging around under the house, but then with everything going on, I couldn't be too safe.

Creeping out of his bedroom and down the stairs, I give Morgan's closed door one more glance before I disappear, taking my time on each step.

Once at the bottom I see the cracked glass in the front door and my skin smothers in goosebumps.

My heart is racing beneath my skin and all I can think about in this moment is keeping Morgan, my wife, safe.

It was all about her.

Rustling catches my attention coming from the living room and I stand with my back against the wall, holding the gun close to my chest. I inhale heavily, letting my eyes close for just a moment.

One.

Two.

Three.

I move around the door frame and point the gun at the blacked-out figure.

“Turn the fuck around,” my voice booms through the small living room and I see the figure spin, holding their hands up.

“Don't shoot,” he calls out and I step a little closer.

“The fuck you doing in my home?”

“I was sent here.”

“I don't give a fuck,” I growl, standing so close that if I was to pull the trigger, he would take the hit pretty hard... so would the wall.

“Look, I don't want no trouble,” I can hear the tremble in his voice, his accent thick and well spoken.

He isn't from around here.

“You were in trouble from the moment you broke into my home.”

“Please,” his voice cracks as I push the barrel of the gun against his chest, and he quivers.

Keeping the gun where it is, I slip it forward, pressing harder into his skin.

Reaching into my pocket, I grab my phone and press Riggs' name.

He answers on the first ring.

“I need you.”

I cut him off and pin my eyes to our masked stranger.

“Now, I am going to give you a friendly piece of advice.”

He says nothing but I can feel how fast the shotgun handle is moving up and down against my shoulder from how quickly his chest is rising and falling.

“You can either tell me what the fuck you're doing here and who sent you,” I look at him through my lashes, a stupid smirk on my lips.

“Or,” I turn my spare hand towards me and look at my nails as if not phased in the slightest. “You can stay mute, and when my brother gets here, he will beat the words out of you.”

I shrug a shoulder up as if it really does not bother me when in fact, my blood is boiling beneath my skin that this no-good piece of shit is in my home.

He says nothing and I chuckle softly just as I hear the sound of tires crunching over the gravel.

“Wow, he made it over here in record time.” I glance behind me but keep the barrel of the gun pressed into him so if he even thinks about moving, all I have to do is pull the trigger. “I'm the nice one,” I click my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

Heavy boots crunch over the broken glass in the hallway, and I tilt my head to the side.The masked man turns his face to look at Riggs before his slits are back on me.

“I don't know nothing,” his voice is rushed, and I roll my eyes.

“Man, give over, you obviously do otherwise you wouldn't be here.”

“You're being far too kind brother,” Riggs is beside me, his face turned towards me before he focuses his attention on our new friend.

Riggs takes the gun from my hand and lifts it from the guy’s chest before pushing it back into him, using it to shove him against the wall.

“I'm pissed,” he growls, his voice tight.

I exhale heavily and pray to Gerry that Morgan stays in her room.

“Not only have I been woken up from my peaceful slumber...” he leans in closer, the handle of the gun sliding under his arm, but the barrel is still on him, “but someone has taken it upon themselves to invade my brother and his wife's privacy... so yeah, I am pretty fucking pissed right now,” he shunts the gun forward and the man groans, doubling over slightly.

“I don't think he is going to talk,” I run my hand over my stubble, the short, coarse hair catching on my wedding band.

“Nah,” Riggs' eyes meet mine across his shoulder just for a moment before they're back on our new friend, “I don't think he is either.”

Riggs' drops the gun and, in an instant, his hand is around his throat, squeezing him against the wall, lifting him slightly so his feet are slightly off the floor. The man’s hands are trying to pull Riggs' grip away but it's no use.

“I have a special place where we deal with people like you,” Riggs grunts, dropping him to the floor like the worthless piece of trash he is.

The guy gasps for his breath, rolling around over the floor but Riggs doesn't give him a second more. He bends down, grabbing him around the back of the neck and drags him to his feet.

“I'll let you know once this piece of shit talks,” and I nod as he passes me the gun, my fingers tighten around it, watching as Riggs walks him out the house and as soon as Riggs is gone, my heart drums deep inside my chest.

Exhaling deeply, I unload the gun, pulling the bullets and shoving them deep inside my pocket before I move to find Morgan.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I barge into her room, and I see her curled up in the corner, arms around her knees that are wrapped into her chest. Turning the light on, her red rimmed eyes find mine and my heart aches when I see her tear-stained cheeks.

“Hey, hey,” I whisper as I place the gun on the floor and rush to her side. I'm on my knees in front of her, my hands cupping her cheeks as I hold her eyes on mine. “It's okay, it's okay,” I soothe her, pulling her into my chest as she quietly sobs.