Page 14 of Bitter Truth
“I don’t know what you expect when you go waving your gun around like that.”
Shaking my head, I sigh. “I didn’t intend to get involved, but I couldn’t stand by while Mr. Johnson got manhandled. I only drew my weapon after the man struck me and started aiming at customers. The threat escalated. I had no choice.”
“Well, that may be true,” he admits grudgingly. “But if you plan to stay in my town, I expect you to toe the line, you hear me? No more of these showoff stunts of yours. I don’t want to see you again for a good long while.”
“Believe me, I’m going to try my best to make that happen.”
“Ugh. That already looks bad. Bet it’snotgoing to be pretty in the morning.”
Recognizing the voice, my shoulders rise beneath my ears. I close my eyes, praying that if I do, he’ll disappear and I won’t have to deal with him on top of everything else.
“You should really put some makeup on, try to cover that mess up.”
No such luck.
“Whatcha doing here, son?”
My skin bristles as my high school boyfriend says, “I heard that Cass here was involved in some trouble. Figured I’d pop over and see if it was true.”
As I watch, Sheriff Kingston claps a heavy hand onto his son’s back. Seeing them standing side by side, it’s everything I can do not to launch an attack. A simple mistake I made when I was fifteen—dating the wrong boy—turned into a decision that would haunt me for years, until I managed to escape to college.
Even then, I let the fear of these men, the sheriff’s power and by proxy, his son’s, keep me away from my home for two decades. I missed so much because of them. Being a part of my grandfather’s life. The sanctuary. Jake.
“How about you and me grab a few drinks, Cass? Let me get you feeling better?”
Kingston looks between me and his son. Matt, with his leering grin. Me, my simmering rage no doubt evident on my face to anyone not blinded by an enormously overinflated ego.
“That’s never going to happen,” I say.
“It could.”
Some things never change. Matt still doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.
“Trust me. It won’t.”
Kingston’s jaw clenches so hard that I hear the joint pop. “Matt—”
Matt shoves a hand in his father’s face, cutting him off with a blatant show of disrespect. Frankly, I’m amazed that the sheriff puts up with it. But that doesn’t mean I have to.
“We’re done here,” I say to them both. Holding the sheriff’s gaze, I say, “I’m going home.”
“Why don’t I join you?” Matt offers.
“You’re not welcome on my property.”
“What, is that some rule that Jake guy’s trying to make for you?”
“No, it’s a rule thatI’mmaking foryou. In front of the sheriff.” Turning toward the man, I hold his gaze and say, “I’ve told him before, I’m telling you now. If he shows up again, I’ll be pressing charges for trespassing.”
Lyle returns my look for a long moment before giving a curt nod. On this, at least, we’re on the same page. He doesn’t want his son around me any more than I do. No matter what I’ve accomplished in my life, to him, I’ll always be swamp scum.
“Noted.”
I can’t help smirking as I listen to them argue as I walk away. With any luck, that’s one less problem to worry about. It’s just too bad that there are so many other—deadlier—ones waiting.
CHAPTER 9
The noise of the deadbolt turning carries from the front of the house. My chest tightens. My muscles tense. My breathing shallows. The moment I’ve been dreading is here.
