Christmas is in two weeks, and I’m proud of myself for getting most of my shopping done early. When you live in the middle of nowhere, the internet is a beautiful thing. I want to make sure it’s really special for Kiera, considering it will be our first one to spend together as a couple, and I’ve had everything sneakily shipped to my mama’s.
This morning, Colton’s responsible for my duties, and I’m being forced to work at the B&B because John’s taking Mila to a doctor’s appointment in San Angelo. Though John has a daughter, this is his first time being involved with the pregnancy, so he’s excited about the entire process. I expect to be covering many more shifts shortly, but I couldn’t be happier for them.
I kiss Kiera goodbye, and before I make my way over to the B&B, I send Colton a text reminding him he needs to feed the horses by six, but I don't get a text back. I shove my phone in my pocket, and when I pass the barn, I realize none of the lights are on, which is frustrating, so I send him another text. No response.
Knowing I have an extra thirty minutes before I really need to be at the B&B, I climb in one of the side-by-sides and make my way over to the ranch hand quarters. I’m actually kinda pissed I have to drag him out of bed, but considering they had a party last night, it somewhat doesn’t surprise me. Halfway to my destination, I realize I should’ve driven my truck because it’s cold as balls outside.
By the time I pull up to Colton’s, I notice all the lights in the house are on, except for his bedroom. Considering he lives with a group of guys, and Dad starts earlier than I do, it doesn’t surprise me that most of them are awake and already gone.
I park and hop out of the seat, walk up the steps, and open the door. It seriously stinks like guys and feet, and I’m reminded why I moved the fuck out as quickly as I could. The place is trashed, and beer cans and empty liquor bottles line the countertops. The house is empty for the most part, so I go to Colton’s room and crack open the door. He’s sleeping peacefully, but that’s about to change really quick.
Considering I’ve been woken up a dozen shitty times in the past by John, I take a page from his playbook and grab a pitcher from the cabinet, then fill it with ice cold water. As I carry it back to a snoozing Colton, I’m smiling the whole time. I flick on the light, which doesn’t bother him in the least, then in one swift movement, I dump the water on him.
As if someone lit a fire under his ass, he bolts up out of bed wearing only his boxers and socks. “Fuccccckkkkkkkkk!” he screams.
A roar of laughter escapes me as he tries to tackle me but fails miserably.
“Time to wake up, ya bastard. You’re already behind schedule,” I say, stepping out of his way and watching him crash into the wall.
Colton rubs his hands over his face, trying to wake up or sober up, then turns to me. “I hate you. It’s rude to wake a man up like that.”
I shrug. “Learned it from John. Hurry your ass up. You got horses to feed and some lessons to teach today. I’ll wait five minutes for you.”
He groans, and I can tell he’s hungover from last night, and I feel like I should be giving him a medal of honor or something for following in my footsteps. Many mornings, I woke up and fed the horses still drunk from the night before or even worse with a hangover. It’s almost like a rite of passage or something for my job.
Colton changes out of his wet boxers and slips on some jeans and a T-shirt. He struggles to put on his boots, then grabs a heavy jacket. After he takes a banana from the kitchen, he gives me a dirty look before walking out the door.
“You act like you’re mad or something,” I taunt.
“Imma get you back. Just you wait,” he threatens with a smug grin.
“I wouldn’t if I were you. I play dirty,” I admit.
He shrugs and begins peeling his banana. When I look over, I can’t stop laughing.
“What?” he asks, chewing.
“Dude, there’s no proper way to eat a banana in public. You basically just deepthroated that thing like a champ. I’m impressed.”
He shakes his head. “Bullshit!”
“Okay! Well, if ranching doesn’t work out for you…”
He breaks a piece of banana off and pops it in his mouth. “You’re an asshole.”
“That’s what they say apparently,” I tell him with a grin as I park the utility vehicle outside of the barn. “You got this?”
He gives me an animalistic grunt and walks into the barn and flicks on the lights. I turn and make my way to the B&B since I’m in charge today. It’s a slight change of pace being inside when it’s so cold out, and I welcome it, though I’m dreading being around Nicole. Since our incident, things have been rocky, and I’ve been forced to walk on thin ice so as not to set her off. Though she wanted another night with me, I refused. I might have a man whore reputation, but I’m not going to whore myself out over threats. Everyone is worried but me, mainly because I know she needs this job more than anything because the market around here is slim to none.
I walk in through the back door, and the B&B looks like Christmas threw up inside it, which it kinda did, but Mama loves for it to be over the top. It makes most people happy, and honestly, I don’t mind it. The tree and lit garland cast a warm glow throughout the common room. All is quiet so far, so I turn on the lights, open the blinds so the sun can shine through when it rises, then make some coffee. As it brews, I check with the kitchen staff about breakfast. When I walk in, homemade dough is being peeled off by the handfuls for biscuits. Sausage patties are in large cast iron skillets as white gravy is being whipped up in a pan. There are four people who cook for the B&B every day, for every meal, who Mama knows from church. They could seriously start their own restaurant.
“This looks delicious, Mrs. Jackie,” I tell one of the main cooks.
“Make you a plate when it’s done, darlin’.”
I smile. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” Breakfast at the B&B is so good a group of locals will drop in every once in a while and buy a plate. It’s always a big, extravagant, homemade Southern meal, and I eat here whenever I can. It’s been less frequent lately, though, because I’ve been having breakfast with Kiera or, rather, having Kiera for breakfast. The thought of it has me grinning from ear to ear.
I hear footsteps in the main room and step out and see one of our guests filling a coffee mug full. I hurry and grab the fresh cream and set it out.
“Good mornin’,” I offer.
“Mornin’, John,” the older woman greets.
“Oh, I’m Jackson. The other brother.”
Shaking her head, she chuckles. “Oh, that’s right. I forget there’re two of you. Don’t know how your mama tells you apart.”
I pour myself a cup of coffee and take a sip. “Honestly, there are times when she doesn’t. But don’t tell her that. She swears she knows who is who.” I let out a laugh and greet others as they come downstairs.
Checking the time, I realize Nicole’s late for her shift. Considering she’s been walking on thin ice and believes she can do whatever she wants, I decide to write her up. Yesterday, when John gave me the rundown of everything that needed to be done, he mentioned Nicole has been coming and going as she pleases. He mentioned he’d already given her a warning but told her the next time she’d be written up, and here we are.
Even though we’re a family run business, it’s important that if we decide to fire someone, we have our ducks in a row, especially considering what happened between Nicole and me. As breakfast is being laid out, Nicole walks in without a care in the world. Thankfully, she doesn’t have an attitude, but as soon as she sees me, she makes up some excuse about a flat tire.
“Sorry, John. Shit happens.” She shrugs before she’s interrupted by a guest to help change sheets upstairs. She sets her purse behind the counter and walks away. I’m half tempted to tell her it’s me, but then again, I kinda don’t give two shits. Her attitude and how she doesn’t take this job seriously really pisses me off, especially considering she used to love being here. At this point, it’s personal.
Just as most of our guests sit for breakfast, I open the schedule book and hear Nicole’s phone dinging at an ungodly pitch in her purse. At first, I try to ignore it, but it keeps going off, one text message at a time, which is annoying as hell. Not able to take it anymore, I grab her purse and search for her phone. I wouldn’t normally dig through a woman’s bag like this, but phones are supposed to be on silent for a reason. It’s distracting, and I don’t know where she is to tell her to come turn it off herself. Once I find her cell, I’m just about to click the side button to silence it, and that’s when I notice all the text messages are from the same person—Trent Laken. A lump the size of a basketball forms in my throat, and I can’t seem to swallow it down. Why the fuck is Nicole talking to Dr. Douchebag? I can’t see the full text messages, only previews because her phone is locked, but what I can see is more than unsettling.
Trent: It’s important that everything goes off without any…
Trent: Did you do it yet?
Trent: Let me know so I can make sure there are no…
Trent: The plan is in place.
Trent: Fuck Jackson Bishop. He’ll get what’s coming to him.
Trent: I can’t wait to see the look on her face when…
The last message catches me off guard. They’re planning something, and I need to get to the fucking bottom of it right now. Anger rolls over me in waves, and I’ll be damned if she’s conspiring with Trent against Kiera and me. This is the last straw. I grab her phone and take the stairs two at a time. Nicole is chatting with a guest in the hallway, and as soon as I see her, I grab her arm.
She tries to get loose, but I keep my grip tight, so she doesn’t get away. The fire inside my blood has anger seething out of my ears. I drag her down the stairs and into the office. I shut the door, lock it, and stand in front of it, so there’s no way she’s escaping until this is discussed. Trent can talk about me all he wants, but to even insinuate anything about Kiera is too fucking far.
“What the fuck, John?” she asks, glaring at me.
“I’m not John,” I tell her between gritted teeth and watch her face transform from annoyance to anger. She’s pissed.
Good. Now we’re on the same page.
“What the hell do you want, Jackson?”
“I want a goddamn explanation, Nicole.” I pull her phone from my back pocket and hold it in front of her face. She sees the text messages from Trent, and I watch as her expression is replaced with defeat or maybe even regret. She knows she’s fucking busted, and I won’t open this door until I find out what’s going on.
“I don’t have all day.” I hand her phone over.
She looks down at the text messages, then opens her mouth and closes it. She’s got nothing because I’ve literally backed her into a corner.
Another moment passes and tears begin to stream down her face before she starts hyperventilating. “I’m so scared, Jackson.”
I try to understand what the fuck she’s talking about because she’s not making any sense.
“Trent.” She sobs. “He’s lost his damn mind.”
With my back firmly pressed against the door, I stand there and watch her cry uncontrollably. “I could’ve told you that.”
“I’m afraid for my life. After he caught the barn on fire—”
“What?” I search her face. “Trent caught our barn on fire?”
She nods. “Yes. Before that, when he was still with Kiera, I saw him in the grocery store, and we chatted. He told me if I could tell him when Kiera was with you, he’d pay me a few hundred dollars each time.”
My mouth falls open. “You didn’t.”
She covers her face with her hands. “He manipulated me, Jackson. He made me believe he just wanted to surprise Kiera. After the two of you got into that fist fight, he basically threatened me and told me if I mentioned this to anyone, he’d track me down and end me.”
“You have to go to the police, Nicole. You’re the only person who can end this. Seriously.”
“And now…”
I wait with bated breath for her next words.
“And now he’s going to hurt Kiera. He hasn’t gotten over it. I’ve tried to stop him. I’ve tried to lead him on, making up stories about how she’s no longer coming around the property anymore.”
My heart is pounding hard in my chest. “His text message said he couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when…what? When he does what?”
Nicole swallows. “She’s planning to pick up a horse tomorrow, and when she does, he’s going to be there and follow her. I don’t know what his plans are after that. Possible kidnapping? He mentioned taking her away.”
I instantly text Kiera.
Jackson: Please come home now. Trent has lost his mind. I think you’re in danger.
When she doesn’t text back, I call her. When she doesn’t answer, I begin to think the worst. I know I’m supposed to be watching the B&B, but I can’t stay here when Trent is acting this way. I call Kiera two more times and leave panicked voicemails. Nicole just sits there and watches me.
The next phone call is to the police. I punch in 9-1-1 and am instantly connected. Nicole looks alarmed, which doesn’t make me feel good at all about this situation.
“What are you doin’?” she asks, smearing the runny mascara on her cheeks even more.
“I’m getting the police involved right now.”
Nicole stands up and grabs on to my arm, trying to take my phone. “No, please. He’ll kill me, Jackson. He’s already threatened me. Do you know why I was late this morning?”
I look at her. This is all happening too fast, and I’m going into panic mode. I’m wasting too much time already.
“Because I was worried that Trent was stalking me, and I was scared to leave until the sun came up.”
“And this is why they need to be involved, Nicole. You need to be truthful and tell them what’s going on or I will. You’re in danger. Kiera is in danger. And apparently, I’ve been threatened too. I’m not playing these fucked-up games.”
I open the door and walk out of the office. I feel as if I can’t breathe as I explain to the operator what Nicole told me. The fact that Trent is capable of arson shocks the shit out of me. I know he’s crazy and fucked up, but I didn’t realize how deep his hatred for me really ran. Now that Kiera and I are together, and are open about it, I feel as the fuse to destruction has been lit.
“I need an officer to meet me down at my girlfriend’s property right now. Her life’s in danger, and I can’t get ahold of her.” I hurry and spit off her address as I head to the back door.
“That’s not needed, Jackson!” Nicole begs. “It’s supposed to happen tomorrow!”
I look at her and shake my head. I walk outside, send a quick text to Colton to watch the B&B, and sprint to my truck. Nicole continues to follow close behind me.
“Please!” she begs, and I can hear the hysteria in her voice, which only unsettles me more.
She continues crying and yelling, making a scene, trying to stop me, and I know leaving is the right thing to do. By the time I make it to my truck, she’s still behind me. She completely breaks down as she forces herself in front of me, her last effort to make me stay, but it’s no use. “Please, Jackson.”
“Why are you trying to stop me, Nicole? Sorry, but I don’t trust your ass as far as I can throw you. You need to get the fuck out of my way.”
She steps aside, realizing her words are falling on deaf ears.
I shake my head and open the door. “This shit ends now. I have to know Kiera is okay.”