Page 126 of Risking it for the Cowboy

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“Thaddeus McClintock?”

Thad nodded once. Sickness twisted in Charlie’s belly, at police infiltrating their protected bubble in this cabin filled with happy memories.

“Step outside, please.”

He stepped through the door as if to shield her from what was to come. She followed him anyway.

“You’re under arrest for second-degree assault and battery of one Jason Thompson, and for leaving the scene of a crime.”

What? The show had to go on! They’d been in the middle of the set! He’d defended her! That illness brewed, taking in the shame on Thad’s face, the stony blankness.

Her heart had been beating overtime since the moment Thad had ripped Jason off her and pummeled him to the ground. The need to protect him, to pull him away and get back to their normal, kept nagging her heart.

She had to speak up before Jason painted some false picture of victimhood, even if seeing him brutalize Jason had hit hard. Like some primal switch had flipped in him and he couldn’t see or hear anything, proof of what he was capable of.

He’d been distant. He’d barely held her hand since then, let alone spoken more than a handful of words.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

The headlights blinded. Tyler’s truck was racing up the switchbacks to the cabin, engine revving and gravel flying.

Thad did as they asked, even as the officers began to tense at the oncoming truck.

“Who’s that?” one of them asked.

T.R. opened his mouth to speak—

“His lawyer,” Charlie interjected. “And tonight, he was defending me. He didn’t do anything wrong. We were hired to play there, and my ex, he—”

“Please step aside, ma’am,” an officer silenced her, as the police walkies continued their staticky transmissions, when another communication came over the police walkie.

“McClintock’s no virgin here … prior up in New York City eight years ago. Some domestic assault and battery case … looks like convicted and served time…”

Domestic assault. Domestic assault.

The words echoed like cans kicked down an empty alley in her mind. Convicted.

Charlie froze, the words jolting shock through her heart. Her eyes lifted to his. His blues were blank. Dull.

The sudden realization…

She gasped for air, feeling her knees give out. Domestic battery … Thaddeus, her light, her stalwart, hardworking man who’d earned her trust and would never strike a woman … had?

“Charlie,” he croaked, his eyes red-rimmed—

She flinched back at the sound of his hoarse plea. He might have stepped outside to shield Daisy from the scene, but she now realized he’d been trying to protect himself from her judgment. He’d not wanted her to hear this part. Because he’d known what was coming.

He’d lied to her. This whole time. As long as you don’t have a record… Not once had he told her he did. She shook her head.

“Can you tell us what happened?” an officer asked him, but Charlie’s mind was reeling. Noises were coming from every direction.

“Her ex was dragging her away. Slapped her hard … she’s my girl … was my girlfriend. Pretty sure she don’t wanna be anymore…”

His explanations came out dead, as cuffs were cinched around his wrists, and yet, the tear trickling down his cheek was unmistakable. This man wasn’t even arguing, wasn’t even trying to defend himself. An inkling took root. What exactly had happened in New York?

Tyler’s headlights sped to a stop, and he leapt out of the cab in a plume of dust kicked up in the police lights.