When It's Right(76)

“There’s something wrong with one of the trucks. Blake mentioned you’d worked in a garage. I thought maybe you could take a look. You seem to be good at everything you do.”

“I don’t know about that.” But she appreciated the compliment. “I’m not exactly a mechanic, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Jeff left her alone to finish cleaning up her arm and wrapping a bandage over the cut. Done and feeling her confidence return, she headed out to the truck Jeff left parked out back. She figured out the problem fairly quickly and found what she needed inside the toolshed. She spent an hour replacing the blown spark plug, adjusting the timing belt, and changing the oil.

She screwed the oil plug back on. Someone grabbed her feet and pulled her out from under the truck.

Ken dropped on her hips, grabbed her hands, and pinned them on the ground by her head. He leaned over and blocked the sun from her eyes. She struggled, but the worst she could do was glare.

“Aw, there’s that fire.”

He leaned down and took her mouth in a hard, demanding kiss. When he pulled back and stared down at her with a smug smile on his face, she dipped her head and wiped her mouth on her shoulder.

“I knew you’d taste like honey.”

She’d heard him spout off about his conquests. The man truly believed he was God’s gift to women.

“Get the fuck off of me, you bastard!” She struggled to get him off her, but the more she moved her hips to buck him off, the more he laughed. With a supreme act of will to control her fear, she went limp and lay still, waiting to see what he would do. She could scream, but he was just the type to pop her in the mouth if she did.

Justin should be here any minute, his chores done, ready to go for another ride like they did last night after their talk. She didn’t want him to find her screaming her head off. She didn’t want Ken to remind him of their father.

“Get off, or I’ll scream.”

“Justin finished working in the garden and ran up to the house to wash his hands. He’ll be here soon. You’ll keep your mouth shut because you don’t want him telling Blake how cozy the two of us look right now.”

“Blake will break your face if he finds out about this. My grandfather will fire your ass.”

“If they find out. You’re going to keep that pretty mouth shut, because if you don’t, I’ll make sure you’re sorry about it. In fact,” he said and rubbed his hard dick against her pelvis, “I’ll make you scream how sorry you are. No way I lose my job over a piece of ass like you—­one who’s nothing better than a murderous bitch.”

She gasped. Damn that nosy kindergarten teacher.

“Everyone knows you killed your daddy. Is this how your arm got broken?” He pressed down harder on her wrists. “You like it rough, and he held you down.”

“You’ve got a sick, twisted mind, asshole.”

“Did he smack you when you let loose your sharp tongue?”

“Yes, then I shot him twice for being an asshole. Imagine what I’m going to do to you if you don’t get off me right this second, you fucking bastard.”

“Gillian,” Justin called.

Ken let go of one of her hands and covered her mouth.

“You listen good. If you tell Blake I whipped that horse, or you, I’ll make you pay. You keep your damn mouth shut, or the next time I catch you alone, I’ll finish what I started and fuck you good.”

Her heart thrashed in her chest. She tried to keep her head, think through the anger and fear. God, she wished Blake was here. Justin was coming. She needed to get Ken off her before Justin saw them.

She needed to teach him a lesson.

Stupid, single-­minded man stared down at her breasts as she reached up with her free hand and grabbed at the tools she’d left out. Her fingers wrapped around a wrench. She swung it hard, connected with the side of his face, and split open a gash from his temple to his forehead. He fell off her, grabbing his head and moaning in pain.

She shoved him aside, scrambled up, and took three steps back. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again, or you’ll wish the worst thing that happened to you is getting your ass kicked by Blake and losing your job.”

Ken dragged himself up to his feet and wobbled, his hand pressed to the nasty, bleeding cut. “Fuck, that hurt.”

“Stay the fuck away from me.”

“You better keep your mouth shut.” He stumbled away, walking off toward the bunkhouse.

The sense of triumph washed away the worst of the fear. She’d done it. She’d stood up for herself and made Ken understand he couldn’t treat her that way ever again. If he tried, she’d defend herself. No one would ever hurt her again.