Because he wants my land. And just like Howard, once Jedd has what he wants, he’ll be gone.
No, no more.
“You need to leave,” I tell him. Straightening my shoulders, I hold my head upright with the final strength remaining in my body. But I close my eyes. I can’t look at him.
“No.” Jedd holds my upper arms, but Tower’s arm crosses the front of his friend’s body. He’s taller than Jedd’s six feet, and his arm crooks near Jedd’s throat.
“It’s time to go,” he mutters with a smoky voice, but it’s enough to warn Jedd.
“I’m not leaving you,” he says to me, and my eyes open, quickly meeting his before shifting to Tower. He’s witnessed enough as an outsider, and it’s time to take someone out of the ring. Tower presses at Jedd, forcing him aside, and Jedd takes the balancing step. He continues to pace with one foot methodically behind the other, but he reaches out for me with his claw. The two tongs snap, and Howard starts beside me. “I am not walking away but giving you space. I am not leaving you.” His voice grows louder, determined, willing me to hear him.
He’s not leaving me.
“Egad, that’s wicked-looking,” Howard mutters still focused on Jedd’s metal hand, and I shift my gaze to him, my husband. Howard is a wicked being. My eyes drift back to Jedd, who is practically dragged backward by Tower. Eventually, he pushes his friend off him. He stops once in the drive, yards away from me, and I brace myself, thinking he’ll run back to me. He’ll pick me up and run away with me. Then he turns, and my heart shatters as I watch the most beautiful man I’ve known walk away.
Chapter Thirty-Four
[Jedd]
“Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck.” I’ve been repeating the sentiment for the past two hours, one hour of which I’ve laid here, sprawled on Vernon’s couch in his office. My right arm covers my eyes. My head hasn’t gotten the memo yet that I want to be drunk. I’m on my fourth beer and contemplating switching to the stronger stuff in hopes to numb myself faster.
“You don’t know she let Howard stay,” Vernon mutters, commiserating with me, but he’s only on his second beer. From his seat, Tower silently peels the label off his bottle, lingering with his first. I should take a moment and beg his forgiveness for getting him into this mess, but he’s already stopped me twice from apologizing.
“She didn’t let me stay,” I mutter, adding another fuck in my head. She couldn’t mean it. She didn’t really want me to go. But that look... “You should have seen how she looked at me.” She questioned if I wanted her or the land. I’ve survived bucking broncs, an invasion overseas, and an electrical wire, but the look on Beverly’s face when she learned the truth, when she connected the dots, when she questioned me.
I shake my head, my nose brushing at my elbow. Beverly’s eyes said so much—it was the opposite of wanting to douse me in gasoline and set me alight. It was hurt. Pure, unadulterated, kick-her-in-the-gut pain and it gutted me.
And then she told me to leave.
I admit I’d done her wrong. I’d withheld information, but I’d done nothing the likes of Howard who cheated on her, disappeared, abandoned her, and then returned for the money.
And she let him stay.
Screw Howard. I’ve done all I can to show Beverly her worth, and one glance from him strips it away.
“Fuck,” I groan, sitting up so I can take a long pull of my beer. “What will I do if she takes him back?” My chest heaves, pressing my ribs inward, and my heart aches like nothing I’ve felt before.
Why do women do such a thing? Fall for men like Howard? My mother suffered years of verbal abuse from Hasting, and still, she returned to him whenever Janice tried to remove her.
“He loves me,” Momma had claimed.
Insulting someone isn’t love.
I should have hiked Beverly over my shoulder and not given her a choice. She’s the girl who you change your plans for, and I want her to choose me. I’d gone to her land intending to earn it back and ended up handing over my heart. Beverly changed everything. And I didn’t fight for her.
“I should have clocked him in the freezer section,” I mutter aloud, recalling the first time I saw her. Without looking at them, I sense Vernon and Tower glance at one another. Tower’s perched on a crate, elbows on his thighs. He pauses as he lifts the bottle to his mouth
“You got him pretty good,” Tower mumbles. His deep voice reminds me of an old Western actor, like he’s smoked a few too many cigarettes, but there’s pride in his tone. Once you know him, he has plenty to say, but he’s reflective before he speaks. The scar was his lesson in keeping his mouth shut. His beard covers a large portion of the gash on his face, but there’s no denying the angry red curve just above the facial hair, marring his right side. If Tower hadn’t gotten in the way, who knows how far I’d have gone with Howard. I’m not a violent man by nature, but I was in the military, and even though I’m at a disadvantage with one arm, I’d think nothing of clobbering Howard over the head with my prosthetic if it got me Beverly.
Vernon’s been leaning back in his rolling office chair. He lunges forward and then tips back again, adjusting his large body in the tight seat. “You don’t know that she took Howard back,” he states. “She’s got nothing to gain from it. The land is hers.”
The land is hers.
And I’d known the truth. Ewell Townsen always felt bad about what happened to Janice. He’d thought she was a good girl, or so he’d told Janice when he showed up at her office as she was fresh out of law school. He wanted her to write him a will in which he left everything to his daughter-in-law and his granddaughter.
“At least I can give them something,” he’d said to Janice. In turn, she had repeated the words to me. Ewell must have been weak to his son’s extramarital activity but dedicated to Beverly. How could he not be? She’d been a good girl as well and taken care of the bastard. Taken care of both bastards, actually.
The timing of everything makes sense. Howard obtained the land from Boone, and Ewell died roughly a year later. He must have known his son had been on the edge of his seat to sell, so he’d willed it all to Beverly. When Howard found out he’d been cut from his inheritance, he’d decided to leave. He’d had nothing to gain by being with his wife. She apparently didn’t know she owned it all, and as long as the knowledge remained a secret, Howard could claim it upon her death. He’d just needed to outlive her, contest the will, and steal from his daughter. I’m thankful Howard isn’t evil enough to plan Beverly’s death or hire someone for the job. Instead, he plans to torture her by returning and claiming his right as her husband. Maybe he’ll make her fall in love with him again. Maybe he’ll take her to bed again.
“Fuh—” I begin, but Tower levels me with his icy eyes. He isn’t a prude, but his glare tells me he’s heard the word enough. My head hangs.
“What are you going to do?” Vernon asks, and I’m reminded he warned me he’d seen Howard. I shouldn’t have left Beverly alone. I should have taken her with me to Knoxville, had her meet my sister, and planned a romantic night out. She’d insisted she didn’t want to hold me back. Said I’d need to push her around in a wheelchair as she wouldn’t be able to walk long distances through the city. I should have called bullshit, but I didn’t. Single-mindedly, I was concerned with picking up Tower and dining with Janice, and I let my guard down about Howard.