Rough Edge (Tannen Boys 2)

I guess I just hoped I was wrong.

Chapter 19

Erica

“Wow, you’re a real bitch, you know that? I never would’ve thought that, but damn, Rix . . . way to kick a man when he’s down.”

I whirl on Reed, who looks as shocked as I feel. “Excuse the fuck out of me, but what did you just say?” I’m hurt and confused, which translates to full-blown armor mode with spikes and verbal bombs at the ready.

Reed shakes his head disbelievingly. “I said, you’re a real bitch. I can’t believe you’re making me feel sorry for that asshole, but fuck, Rix.”

I blink, surprised at the venom in Reed’s voice. He never talks to me like this. “Stay out of it, Reed. Figured you’d be happy to see him go.” Shit, that sounds like there’s an opening for him now, and there most definitely is not.

“I asked around about him, you know. Figured if he was going to be hanging out with you, I wanted to check up on him, see if he’s the asshole I thought.” He laughs mirthlessly. “He works on the Bennett Ranch, right? That’s the job you’re giving him shit for? Ever heard of the Tannen Farm next door? Or maybe you didn’t talk about that before you fucked? Well, before you go climbing higher on that pedestal, Princess, you should know he’s right. If anyone would understand your obsession with this place, it’d be him.”

I have no idea what Reed is talking about. Brody said his Mom died, which is why he helped take care of Shayanne, and he’s talked about growing up around animals and ranching. But I’ve never heard him say one word about a Tannen Farm.

Reed flashes his teeth, victory in his feral grin. “Seems I know more about your boyfriend than you do. Of course, I was actually looking into his story, not just fucking him. Guess that’s the difference.”

Reed turns and stomps out, his car pulling out of the lot a hell of a lot faster than Brody’s truck did.

Has everyone lost their minds? What the hell just happened?

Manuel looks at me patiently and kindly asks, “What do you need me to do, Boss?” At least he’s rock steady. One of us has to be, and it’s certainly not me.

“I think I might’ve fucked up, Em.” I hold up a big bag from the grocery store, hearing the bottle of wine clank against the six-pack of beer. “Bad.”

“Oh, shit, get in here.” She heads straight for the kitchen to pull glasses down. I offer her the wine bottle before twisting off the cap on my first beer. I have a feeling I’m going to need all of them tonight.

I chug it down, starting the process of numbing myself from the pain. Because fuck, this hurts. A lot.

And it’s my own doing.

Emily shoves me toward the couch, and I flop to it in a heap, my legs crossing in front of me and my back curved inward around a pillow I hug tightly. But I can’t protect myself from this because it’s inside me.

“What the fuck did Brody do? Or should I just go kick his ass now?” Emily sounds like she might be willing to try it on my behalf.

“Nothing . . . well, something . . . but it was mostly me.” I grab for another beer but she holds it a few inches further than I can reach, and I’m too frustrated to lean forward and get it.

“Rix, I need something to go on here. Speak and then you’ll get the yummy treat.” She waves the bottle around by its stubby neck, taunting me with it.

I growl and lurch forward, snatching it from her. But I don’t open it, I just hold it. The label seems inordinately interesting all of a sudden, and I pick at the corner, wondering how I can put all of this.

“The long and short of it? I’m a bitch, apparently.” Beer number two opens and I toss the cap to the coffee table.

“Agreed. What else you got, because everyone knows that.” Emily sounds like that’s no big deal whatsoever, agreeing readily and easily.

I shove at her shoulder, careful not to spill on her couch. I might not deserve it, but I’m sure gonna drink this thing, not waste it by sacrificing it to her fluffy cushions. “Fuck you, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Does it help if I say that your bitchiness is one of the things we love most about you?” Her smile is placating, and I’m ashamed to say it works a little bit. “Get on with it. You came here for a reason, not just for me to stroke your ego, so tell me what happened.”

I sigh and swallow half of the second beer. “You asked for it, Em.” I look her in the eye, the anger still right beneath my surface. “He told me I’m a great mechanic, talented and brilliant.”