Serving Trouble(15)

“I was staying with my sister in Northern California. But he found me,” she said.

“Dustin?” he asked.

“Yes. He showed up and threatened to turn me in.” Her tone was devoid of drama as if she expected to open the door and find her rapist on her doorstep.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, not that it would change a damn thing. If he saw their former commanding officer again nothing would hold him back. He wouldn’t wait for justice. He’d beat the crap out of Dustin.

She shook her head. “He didn’t touch me. But he said he was planning to call the police.”

And when they found her they’d hand her over to the military. She’d probably face jail time for her unauthorized absence. It wouldn’t matter that she’d run because she couldn’t face serving alongside men who’d fought at her side one minute, placing their lives in her hands, and threatened her the next. And if she had returned, serving with those men would be pure hell because she’d accused one of them—­their leader—­of rape. She’d gotten their commanding officer kicked out of the marines because she’d had a witness willing to testify.

Him.

“So you ran,” he said.

“I needed to find you,” she said. “Dustin’s pissed at me. But he blames you for losing his career. His wife left him and—­we should move inside.”

Caroline scanned the house and the drive, showing a hint of fear for the first time. He knew his dad wouldn’t wake for a few hours. And he was familiar with the sounds—­cars speeding over the dirt road, the neighbor’s rooster, who operated on the assumption that it was always rise-­and-­shine time—­but she clearly viewed them as potential threats.

“Sure,” he said and followed her into the old, mostly empty barn. The hay bales had disappeared years ago, but otherwise the space looked pretty much the same. Old boxes, some tools, a rusted gate, and a collection of broken furniture that belonged in the dump.

He left the door open behind them, allowing a beam of light to slip in and illuminate the mechanical bull in the corner surrounded by faded red, white, and blue cushions. His dad had thrown an old western saddle over the bull’s back. Now the damn thing looked like it wanted to go for a ride even though it probably hadn’t been turned on since he’d left for basic training.

He followed Caroline into the light and over to the pads surrounding the bull. A backpack rested on the edge, packed and ready to go. It was the only sign she’d been staying in his barn.

“How long have you been here?” he asked. “After you talked to Josh Summers, hell, I’ve been out looking for you every night.”

“Yesterday afternoon,” she said. “I wasn’t sure I could trust Josh. He started talking about how they needed to start clearing the land. And he mentioned the police would be called in to remove anyone found on the premises. So I slipped away when he went to get his phone.”

“He thought you were trying to save the trees,” he said. “But Josh is a good guy. He just thought it sounded a little nuts when you claimed someone was after you.”

“Dustin wants revenge,” she said simply. “He thinks you stole a lot from him.”

“He took a helluva lot more from you,” he said. “I remember, Caroline. Shit, I got up every night to walk you to the bathroom and make sure he wouldn’t find you alone in the dark again and take what he wanted even if you made it clear you weren’t interested. If Dustin shows up here, I’m going to start throwing punches before he says a word. Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to hit him when he tossed out those degrading commands? Every damn time he ordered you to his bed in front of the guys, laughing it off a second later like it was one big joke?”

“I know,” she said.

“If he shows ups here—­”

“Noah?” Josie’s voice came from the open doorway and he heard the sound of her shoes clicking on the barn’s cement floor. What the hell was she doing in heels in his freaking barn?

Breathing life into my fantasies . . . Another ride on the bull. . .

But they had an audience and Josie was wearing the office-­ready dress she’d worn for her first shift at the bar.

“I heard your voice,” Josie said. She came to a halt and looked past him. The sunlight formed a halo around her as she slowly raised her hands, palms up in a show of surrender.

“And you must be Caroline,” she added, looking past him. “Please don’t shoot.”





Chapter Six


AS A RULE, Josie usually forgot to feel fear until it was too late. Her ex-­boyfriend had towered over her, her cheek still stinging from the smack of his palm, and she’d thought, I’m going to kick the shit out of him. The fear hadn’t seeped in until after Noah had chased him away.