Miller's Time (Southern Charmers 2)

The red haze turns to primal, animalistic wrath. “What the fuck is that?”

Brock’s evil laugh returns, satisfaction reeking from him. He knows exactly who I am. This was all for show, him thinking he’s got me. “That is how a real man makes a statement.”

A thunderous growl erupts, and I try to move her but she stands stone still, blocking me.

“Get out of here, you fucking asshole.” She braces harder. “Or I’ll let him rip you apart.”

He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket, tapping his lip, then kisses his fingers and passes by, placing the kiss to her cheek on his way.

“You know where I’ll be, fiancée. Let the lumberjack down easy. He seems wound up.”

It’s against everything in my soul to let him go, my heart and head fighting against each other.

Ashlyn stays braced until we hear the roar of the car leaving. Only then does she step away, her face white, her body quaking. She bows over, holding her sides.

“Ashlyn, what the hell is going on?”

She looks up at me with guilt and terror etched all over her. It’s then I see the bruising around her left eye and cheekbone.

“I’m going back to Chicago.” Is all she gets out before her eyes roll back and she crumbles to the ground.

Chapter 22

Ashlyn

My eyelids barely slit when my mind registers where I am. The events of what happened race through my brain. Brock showing unannounced, the slap, Miller’s rage, me fainting. All of it unravels in my head like a nightmare. I swat my hair from my face and feel the cold metal swipe my skin.

My fingers go to the ring, yanking until I screech in pain. “Get off! Get off me.”

“Tried, it’s stuck until the swelling in your knuckle goes down,” a rough voice cuts in.

I peer across the room; Miller is sitting in the chair farthest from mine. Anger, hurt, loathing all over him as he sips a glass of whiskey.

“How long have I been out?”

“About thirty minutes.”

My body protests when I press up and get a good look at my hand. He’s right. My knuckle is swollen and discolored, my finger slightly bent, a sharp sting when I put pressure on it.

“He broke my finger!” I gasp.

“Another reason I should have killed him.”

“Miller,” I start, then feel the pinch in my cheek.

“Yeah, you have a shiner, too.” He gulps his whiskey, staring at me blankly.

“I think I need to explain.”

“Explain how that slick motherfucker shows up and greets you with a kiss in front of my crew? The same crew you whipped out the bitch for and sent home so you could be alone?”

I sink back into the sofa, wishing it would smother me. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Tell me what it was like because I have six men who have all told me the same thing when I called to ream their ass for leaving you alone with a stranger.”

“I was going to handle him.”

“How’d that work out for you?” A shiver runs up my spine at his frostiness.

“Things got out of hand.”

“Really? Because one phone call to me or one word to my guys, and you’d have been protected until I could get my ass here.”

“I didn’t want to involve them or you. This was my fight.”

He nods, taking another slug and swallowing slowly. “How’d he propose? Drop on a knee, telling you he worshipped you more than life, and the future you’d share would be full of love?”

“You know that’s not what happened.”

“It was more of a here’s a ring so you can fuck my business associates for money?”

I flinch, my heart cracking at his force. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“No? Well, excuse my manners as I try to hold in the fucking rage that’s ready to explode after finding you in the arms of another man. A man that put a ring on your finger, hit you, and yet you still held me back.”

“He isn’t worth you going to jail. That’s what he was looking for was a fight. Any reason to press charges and put you behind bars to get more leverage over me.”

Finally, there’s an ounce of concern, but it dies quickly. “I’d have taken my chances against a bastard that hits you, injures you, and puts his mouth on you.”

“I wasn’t willing to take that chance!” I fight back.

“Have you been paying attention at all, Ashlyn? I’ve had your back since the day you breezed into town.”

“This was me having yours!”

“Is that why you introduced me as the contractor? Are you embarrassed? Didn’t want to admit to the high-powered son of a bitch how you’d fallen from grace?”

“No, no, no.” I shake my head hastily. “Nothing like that. If he knew who you were to me, he’d go after your family. Threaten to strip you of everything.”

He nods noncommittally. “You have that little faith that I can’t stand up for myself?”