Running a hand through my hair, I turn to see the woman staring at me open mouthed while tossing the belt into the fire. I shoot her a wink. Fuck me, she’s pretty. Medium brown hair with some blonde streaks layered toward her face, but long enough to dust her shoulders. Freckles sprinkled on her cheeks. “Thank you for that,” she says. In nothing but a pair of denim cutoffs, a tank top, and Converse sneakers, she must be freezing.
I hear the asshole thunder off on his bike.
“No problem. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Patience.”
Yeah, I could use a little patience.
“You can call
me Jag.”
“That short for something?”
“Jagger. You want a beer?” I tug my leather jacket off and hand it to her.
“Please.” She shrugs the jacket on keeping in step with me as I lead her to the barrels of beer.
“How’s that face?” I press the cold bottle to the welt on her cheek.
Her slender hand covers mine and I slide my palm down her neck, give her a squeeze, and drop away to give her space. She doesn’t need me crowding her. “Doesn’t feel too hot.”
“What the hell are you doing here with scum like Choke?”
“You’ll laugh.”
“Try me.”
“I met him on a dating app.” Her lips curve into smile and she winces at her jaw.
Laughter bubbles in my throat and I stare at my boots doing my best to hold it in and failing miserably as the sound erupts from my chest. “Woman, you’re too damn pretty to be using some computer-generated bullshit to meet a man. Especially a man like Choke.” I shake my head, while grabbing another beer for myself.
“I don’t know about that, but I won’t be making that mistake again. He showed up on the motorcycle and I thought I was up for a little adventure. I fucked up.”
“Yeah you did. You new to Drag Creek?”
“Sort of. I used to visit the lake as a kid with my dad. He’d take me fishing.”
“Heard that.”
“What about you. You always lived here?”
“A few towns away, but close enough.”
Dutch strolls over to us whistling and stroking his beard. “You okay?” He glances at Patience.
“Been better but have had worse.”
“You know he’ll be back.”
“And I’ll stomp his ass again. He know where you live?”
“Unfortunately.”
“You got this?” Dutch questions, grabbing a few beers and looking in Darlene’s direction.
“Yeah. We’re cool, man. Go on.”