Sex Retreat(36)
“What I did back then was wrong, Rory.”
“You’re damn straight.”
“Brock wasn’t innocent.”
“Brock isn’t who I’m talking to now,” Rory said, just as stubborn and as righteous as ever. “Brock and I have discussed this many times. You and Brock took advantage of the Colony name and your position by seducing those girls and introducing them to drugs.”
“We were kids ourselves! We didn’t enter adulthood on drugs. We were experimenting, partying and—”
“And that makes it all right?” Rory asked. “No. I don’t think so.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I don’t need to understand. I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t care about your reasons. The lesson learned is on the table. You can’t run from it. You can’t sweep it under the rug and hope no one comes along with another broom bound and determined to show you what a mess you’ve left behind.”
“What do you want from me?” Mitch bellowed.
“I want you to leave,” Rory deadpanned.
“That’s not going to happen.” Mitch sniffed. “Besides, this is my place, buddy.”
“You know what I mean. I want you to leave Trixie alone.”
“I just bet you do,” Mitch muttered. “We both know I’m not backing off there.”
“Then you give me your word you’re here for the right reasons. I need to know you won’t hurt her.”
“I’d take my own life before I would bring her the first moment of pain.”
Rory sneered. “You don’t have to worry about that. If you so much as make her cry, Brock will make you wish for your last breath.”
They played a round of stare down before Mitch finally said, “Rory, we were friends. All of us were the best of friends. Can’t we get back to that place again?”
“I don’t know. We can try, but that’s as far as I’ll go in terms of a commitment.” He walked to the window and pointed at a man walking their way. “Who is that guy?”
Mitch glanced over his shoulder. “Shit. I forgot about him. Cash Whitehead is the friend I was telling you about. He needs a place to stay.”
“Terrific—another convict.”
“He’s all right, Rory. He was serving time for petty crimes. Most of them were drug related. He comes from a nice family and has a good head on his shoulders. You’ll like him.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“He wants to stay on a while.”
“Are you thinking of reopening Cow Camp?” Rory asked.
“I don’t know. I guess it will depend on you, Trixie, and Brock.”
“We have all we can take care of in Fletcher. Our place is pretty busy.”
“Yeah, I know,” Mitch teased. “I had a blast standing back and watching the two of you work. Who would’ve thought you could swing so much hay in a day?”
“It’s honest work,” Rory said. “We like our lives. We raise Saddlebreds and Arabians. Have a few beef cattle, too.”
“Just regular Farmer Joe, huh?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“What do you do for a living?” Mitch asked.
“Day trade mostly. We have a lot of real estate in the downtown Asheville area. It’s a full-time job being a landlord.”
About that time, the door buzzer resounded. Someone had entered the lodge. Mitch grinned. “Odd, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“Sounds, fragrances, views, all of it—nothing ever changes at Cow Camp.”
Rory laughed. “You used the Colony money and paid a high price in order to keep this place forever locked in time.”
“The Colony cash well isn’t quite as deep as it used to be,” Mitch said, opening the door. “Come on. Let’s kiss and make up so you can meet my cellmate.”
“I’ll forego the kiss but settle on a handshake,” Rory said, extending his hand.
“That’s better than good enough for me.”
Chapter Seventeen
“I don’t know what to say,” Trixie said, blinking. Who was this man standing in front of her and what had he done with the man she’d married?
“You don’t ‘say’ anything,” Brock told her, inching closer. “I asked you to present yourself and I want your eyes downcast, your chest forward, your hands clasped behind your back, and your feet about eight inches apart.”
“Brock, I…”
“Sir,” he snapped. “You’ll refer to me as Sir from now on, Trixie.”
“Everywhere?” she asked quietly.