Chaste (McCullough Mountain) (25 page)

“Yo!
Kelly!”

He
turned and found a frantic Sue scowling at him as she quickly slung drinks for
a long line of thirsty patrons.
Shit.

He
scanned the bar, but knew he was too late. She was gone. Glancing at the clock,
he saw it was only two hours until closing. He’d go to her then, even come back
in the wee hours of the night to do the cleanup if he had to.

Sighing,
he slipped behind the bar and jumped into action. They were slammed and he was
a complete dick for letting Sue handle it on her own for the past hour.

Teamwork
was key, when working a bar. It just made everything run smoother. The patrons
were less prickly when they saw two faces there to serve them, rather than one.
Once the crowd was satisfied and they had some breathing room, he went to
apologize to Sue.

“I’m
sorry I took off—”

She
turned and held up a hand. “Save it. I’ve been cursed at, barked at, and blamed
for the crappy service. My back hurts, because I had to lug up two tanks while
you were off doing your Kelly thing. The garbage is overflowing and I really
need to pee.”

He
swallowed. “Go to the bathroom and I’ll handle the trash. Once that’s done you
can take a break.”

She
only scowled at him as she turned and headed toward the ladies room. Kelly tied
up the bags of trash and took them to the door. He filled a few more orders
while waiting for Sue to return from the bathroom. What did lassies do in
there? Without fail, that hall was always backed up with broads.

“I’m
back.”

“All
right. I’ll handle this trash then you can take thirty.”

He
hefted the three bags in one hand and shoved the back door open. After he swung
them into the dumpster a soft whimper caught his attention. He turned and his
blood ran cold at the vision before him.

Ashlynn’s
truck, door open, interior light on, and two large booted feet leaning into the
driver side. On the ground were two dainty flip flops, scattered like fallen
rose petals. He saw red.

“
Motherfucker
!
” He bolted into the lot and over the
ringing in his head he heard her whimper again followed by the sound of fabric
tearing and a masculine grunt.

Everything
inside of him became unrecognizable, replaced by black rage. His knees pumped
as he ran toward her truck. His mind couldn’t accept what was happening. This
was Ashlynn. His sweet Ashlynn. No one was allowed to steal her innocence. Fuck,
no!

When
he reached the truck he nearly ripped the door off the hinges. An unholy roar
tore from his chest as he grabbed the motherfucker by the back of the throat
and threw him off.

All
he caught was a glimpse of her tear battered face, glasses askew, and her skirt
wrenched up to her ribs. Fuck. Pink flesh showed between her lily-white thighs.
He couldn’t swallow all that and what it meant at the moment. He turned and
lunged at the cocksucker, nothing short of murder on his mind.

Ashlynn’s
scream vaguely pierced the white noise blaring in his head as he laid one fist
after another into the man’s face. Flesh smacked against flesh and his knuckles
split wide as they slammed into bone.

He
was a seething maniac. “How fucking
dare
you!” he roared as he continued
to beat the bag of bloodied bones into the pavement, the sound of snapping
under the force of his repetitive punches. Voices tickled the edge of the
violent haze that swallowed him. And then he heard the sirens.

Suddenly
he stopped and panted. The man on the ground, whoever he was, was
unrecognizable and unconscious. He saw a crowd of drinkers gaping at him, but
wisely keeping their distance. None of that mattered.

Wiping
his mouth with the back of his forearm, he puffed out ragged breaths and
turned. Ashlynn was trembling from her bruised lips down to her bare feet.
Kelly turned and spit. He slowly stepped closer, his gate hard but controlled,
and with as gentle a touch as he could manage his swollen hands shook as he
righted her skirt.

The
sirens drew closer. He bent and retrieved her flip-flops from the pavement and
handed them to her.
Fuck!

 
“I’m
sorry,” he rasped.
 
Her chest lifted
with each rapid breath. He nearly broke. This was his fault. “I’m so fucking
sorry, Ash.”

“The
cops are coming,” she said, as if stating the weather.

He
saw it then, the irrational shame, the breaching of her private little world.
It was all his fault.
God damn it!
“Can you drive?”

She
nodded jaggedly.

“Go.
I’ll handle this.”

“But
the cops.”

She
needed to get out of there if she didn’t want her personal business exposed.
Give her an hour or two to let the shock wear off, then she could decide what
she wanted to do. But right now she needed to leave. “Go, Ashlynn. Get out of
here.”

He
reached over her and she didn’t flinch. His busted fingers turned the key and
the truck roared to life. He wondered if she’d be able to drive. She was
practically catatonic. But once he shut the door and gave her a stern nod, she
managed. The taillights
 
disappeared
only a moment before the cops arrived.

An
hour later he was in jail.

* * * *

Kelly
scowled at the metal table as Barney Fife had his ten-second Miami Vice moment.
“Did Mr. Evan say anything to you in provocation?”

Kelly
gritted his teeth. The guy had been the man from the dance. Evan wasn’t even
his first name. Ashlynn was likely friendly to him when she saw him in the
parking lot, before things got carried away. The idea that he’d preyed on her
innocence, took advantage of the sweet and friendly person she was, made him
want to destroy him all over again.

He
gave the same answer he’d given since arriving at the police station. “No.”

“Do
you have a history with Mr. Evan?”

“No.”

“What’s
it going to take to get you to explain why the owner of a local pub would suddenly
attack one of his customers in the parking lot of his establishment?”

“I
want to make a phone call.”

“You
aren’t leaving until I get some answers, son.”

He
didn’t care about leaving. He only cared about Ashlynn. Did she get home safe?
Was she okay?
God. Of course she’s not fucking okay.
“I want to call my
lawyer.”

The
officer sighed and left the room. A few minutes later he returned with a phone,
but didn’t hand it over. Kelly glared at the older, uniformed man as he scowled
back. “The man you attacked is in intensive care.”

“Good.”

The
officer shook his head and handed over the cordless phone. Kelly’s hands were
swollen. Dried blood crusted his knuckles. His fingers trembled as he dialed.

When
her voicemail picked up he shut his eyes. It was the only privacy he could
afford at the moment. “Ashlynn, baby…” his voice was hoarse and sounded nothing
like his own. “I’m at the police station. I don’t know when I’ll be able to
leave, but as soon as I get out of here I’ll come find you and we’ll talk. I…”
There was so much he wanted to say. He needed to hear her voice, know that she
was okay, but even that was denied to him. “I’m sorry.”

He
ended the call and placed the phone on the table.

“I
don’t know any attorneys by the name of Ashlynn. Wanna tell me who she is?”

“No.”

A
few hours later they moved him to a cell and Kelly stared at the ceiling
wondering how long it would take for someone to come get him. Sue would have
contacted one of his brothers by now. He didn’t regret using his only call on
Ashlynn. His only regret was that she didn’t pick up.

Flashes
of her disheveled clothes and white thighs filled his head. How could he have
let that happen? He should have gone after her, told Sue to handle the bar.
None of this would have happened if he had been the man Ashlynn needed. He
could have protected her.

The
sound of a throat clearing drew his attention. Kelly turned and saw Colin
standing outside the door to the cell. “Thank fuck.”

“I’d
say you’d be wanting to thank God instead. What the hell happened, Kelly?”

He
stood and went to the door. “Are they letting me leave?”

“For
now. I don’t know what happens after that. You nearly killed that man. Who was
he?”

“No
one.”

His
eldest brother frowned. “Bullshit.”

“I
need to get out of here, Colin. Like right now.”

“They’re
working on it.” His brother glanced at his hands, his gaze traveling over his
face. “Did the other guy even hit you?”

“No.”

His
brows lifted. “You just attacked a man?”

“Pretty
much.”

Colin
opened his mouth, but an officer cut him off. “McCullough, you’re free to go.”

The
door opened and Kelly marched past his brother, collected his belongings, and
left the station. Colin followed him to the truck and waited before unlocking
the door.

“Kelly—”

He
held up a bloated hand. “I can’t, Colin. I can’t talk about it. Not yet. Just
know that, if in my shoes, you would have done the same thing.”

His
brother seemed to accept that and nodded. The truck unlocked and they both
climbed in. “Want me to take you home?”

“No.
I need my car. Can you take me to the pub?”

He
nodded and drove them back to O’Malley’s. The clock on the dash proclaimed it
was almost four in the morning. The lot of the pub was vacant aside from his
truck and what he assumed was Evan’s car.
Oklahoma plates.
He withdrew
his cell and dialed the towing company he had in his contacts. The car would be
gone first thing in the morning.

Colin
parked and Kelly climbed out. He withdrew his keys from the bag of crap the
police had left him with and jumped into the bed of his truck. Colin followed,
a look of concern on his face. Kelly unlocked the toolbox in the bed and
withdrew his bat.

“Kelly?”
His brother’s warning was laced with concern.

He
jumped down and marched over to Evan’s car. “Batter up, motherfucker,” he
muttered before taking a swing at the headlight.

“Jesus,
Kelly!” The sound of shattering glass filled the air.

The
car alarm echoed in the vacant lot and he swung again, smashing the other
headlight. He moved to the back of the car and took out both taillights.

“Do
you want to go back to jail?”
Colin shouted.

He
climbed onto the hood and slammed the bat down on the windshield. The glass
webbed and collapsed like the skin of rotten fruit. The alarm silenced. Good
enough.

He
went to the pub and unlocked the door. Colin followed, clearly concerned for
his sanity. After snatching a bottle of whiskey, he went to the back office and
flipped on his computer. He rewound the security footage to just before they
pulled up and spliced and dumped the frames. He couldn’t bear to see the
footage from earlier that night, but knew it might be needed for court. Once
all evidence of his bodywork was deleted he shut out the light and locked his
office door.

He
took a long swig of whiskey and screwed the cap on tight. Handing Colin the
bat, he said, “Do me a favor and hold onto this.”

Colin
only sighed, but took the bat. Everyone knew Colin as the honorable McCullough
son. No one would hassle him or suspect he’d be harboring the evidence of a crime.
“Kelly, I think you should let me take you home or at least stay here.”

“Not
gonna happen, Colin. I need to go.”

“Where
are you going?”

“I
can’t say.” They left the bar and he locked up. Before he climbed into his
truck, he turned back to his brother. “Thanks for coming for me, Colin.”

His
brother nodded. “If you need anything else…”

“I
know.” But what he needed was on a small farm five miles away. “I gotta go.”

“Be
careful, Kelly. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Too
late for that. “You got it.”

* * * *

When
he reached Ashlynn’s, the house was dark and her truck was parked under the elm
in the front yard. He climbed out of the truck and raced up the steps only to
pause at the last minute. How was he going to face her?

Whatever
she was dealing with, no matter how bad, he’d fix it somehow.

Some
things are unfixable.

He
swallowed and knocked. It took about five minutes for the porch light to flick
on. His heart raced as he waited, listening to each slow click of her locks
disengaging. When the door opened she held herself in the shadows.

“Ashlynn.”

Her
eyes were puffy and her hair was a mess. “Hi, Kelly.”