Rough Country (Tannen Boys 3)

“The hell it is. Not when she looks terrified and there’s a hole in the wall the size of your fist. What’s going on?”

He’s stepping between Willow and me like he’s protecting her from me.

From me!

I would never hurt her. She’s the one ripping my heart out of my body with her bare hands.

I move toward her, eyes glaring at Brody then softening when they meet Willow’s. I can’t help it. Even when she’s killing me, I love her.

“Why? Why are you doing this? Willow, I love you.” I have no shame, will beg on my knees for her if that’s what it takes.

If I can hold her in my arms, kiss her soft lips once more, she’ll understand and stay. I don’t know what else to say, but I can convince her if I can just touch her. She’ll feel how right we are. She’ll feel that bone-deep connection we had from the instant I laid eyes on her.

“Willow.” I reach for her, and Brody lays a hand on my chest, stopping me.

“Bobby,” he growls in warning.

“Get off me,” I yell at him. Like so many times before, one second, we’re standing there as brothers, and the next, we’re fighting.

Brody pushes me off him, but I come back madder. This hurts, everything hurts, and I need to make someone else feel this to get it out of my veins. It’s the only way.

I punch Brody in the gut, and he grunts. His arm goes around my neck, not choking me but trying to control me. I spin in his grip, getting free. He’s ready, though, having taught me that move himself. Before I can even stand upright, his fist lands in my gut in a return shot.

Willow screams in horror. “No! Don’t fight! I’m . . . I’m leaving.”

I whirl on her, forgetting Brody in an instant. “No! Stay. Please.”

Her tears break me, the shake of her head guts me, but the single step back she takes when I move closer is my undoing. “Bobby,” she whispers.

“Willow?”

Over her shoulder, she asks Rix, “Can you take me home?”

“No, I’ll do it. We can talk this out. Please.”

Rix shoots me a glare, but it melts. If she were capable of tears, I think she’d be crying now too. Fuck knows, I am. “I’ll take you, Willow. I’ve got her, Bobby.”

Willow follows Rix down the stairs woodenly. It’s not until I hear the roar of Rix’s car that it hits me. Willow’s leaving. She’s actually doing it.

I run for the stairs, busting through the front door to stop her. I don’t know how, but I’ll come up with something. There has to be some way to make her stay.

But all I see are the red glow of taillights as Rix turns onto the street.

“No!” I shout into the night.

Brody is right at my side, just in time to catch me before I sink to the dirt in the front yard. “What the fuck just happened? Bobby?”

I mutter, “What am I going to do?” The truth hits me so hard, I feel the world spin.

I gave up everything for her! Everything.

“Fuck it, I’m out of here.”

“What?” Brody says, but I’m already gone. Running for my truck, I hop inside and grab the spare key from the visor.

The trucks growls to life, and I spin out, leaving Brody in a cloud of dust behind me. I think I hear him call my name, but I don’t stop, don’t explain.

I’ll fill him in later.

Willow thinks I should go to Nashville and try to get a contract? Fuck that. I already have one. One I gave up for her. But if she doesn’t want me, I’m going to take it. Guess Jeremy’s getting his way, after all.

Fuck.

Chapter 23

Willow

“Eff-why-I, do not, under any circumstances, go wandering by table twelve. They’re here solely to gawk and stare,” Olivia snaps loudly, fully intending for table twelve to hear her. Her ponytail swishes through the air as she throws a ‘dare you to say something’ look their way.

“At what?” I ask, getting her drinks—three diet colas with a cherry juice splash, one club soda with lime.

I’ve kept my head down all day so that no one will see how red and puffy my eyes are. They’re the most obvious consequence for spending last night bawling in my bathtub. I’d planned on soaking, letting the heat take away some of the pain of heartache, but I didn’t make it that far. I’d climbed right on in, still dressed in my work clothes, and curled up to cry for hours. At least the toilet paper had been close by so I could blow my nose. It’s red and irritated now too.

But with my head down, my heart heavy, and my mind elsewhere, I have no idea what’s happening around me. I’m going through the motions robotically—read order, get glass, pour drink, set it out for Olivia.