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“I’m going to take care of this,” Mac muttered as he circled around the drive and headed back to the main road.
“I don’t need you to take care of this. You can’t fight these battles for me, Mac. I have to do it on my own. ”
“You expect me to just sit back while she makes your life miserable?” he snarled, his head jerking around to glare at her before turning back to the road.
“That’s exactly what I expect you to do. This is something I have to deal with myself. ” To a point, anyway.
She was aware of Jethro beside her, his body shifting, then the sound of paper crinkling. Keiley felt her stomach drop as her gaze jerked around. The picture she had folded had fallen from her purse to the floorboard of the truck. Jethro was reaching for it, his fingers touching it.
“I have it. ” Keiley jumped, bending quickly, fighting to slap his fingers out of the way, to grab the incriminating paper when he suddenly pulled it from her fingers.
“Give me that. ” She snapped her hand out, trying to jerk it away from him as she felt the truck come to a resounding stop at the side of the road.
The next thing she knew, Mac had it, holding it easily out of her reach as she subsided, sitting still and silent as she stared back at Jethro with furious fear.
“Who. Took. This. ” The control in Mac’s voice was terrifying.
“I don’t know. ”
“Where did you get it?”
Keiley laced her fingers together and stared straight ahead.
“Where did you get the fucking picture, Keiley?” he yelled.
She flinched, hearing the rage in his voice. The same rage that had filled her, that had burned like a cold unquenchable flame in the center of her gut. Hell, it still did.
“It doesn’t matter where it came from,” she finally answered. “I would say it’s a pretty good guess that everyone in the county has one by now, though. Wouldn’t you?”
“Son of a bitch. ” His hands slapped into the steering wheel before he gripped it violently, his anger filling the interior of the truck. “Why didn’t you tell me? When did you get it?”
“She got it at the meeting,” Jethro said knowingly. “I think we both know when she got it. We can guess who gave it to her. I’m just wondering what she thought she would get in return for showing Keiley she had it. ”
“Delia did this?” Mac yelled.
Keiley risked glancing at his face and jerked her head forward once again. She fought the trembling in her lower lip, fought the pain that bloomed in her chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Silence filled the truck.
“What did you just say?” Controlled, icily furious. She flinched once again at the tone of Mac’s voice.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, lacing her hands in her lap. “I don’t know how they got the picture. ” She swallowed tightly, feeling panic welling inside her then. Black, oppressive, the guilt was suddenly strangling her. “I don’t know how to fix this yet. I was going to tell you. ” She fought the trembling in her voice. “I was going to tell you, but I had to figure out what to do first. ”
“You mean you had to figure out how to keep me from killing that vindictive little bitch?” he asked, surprisingly calm.
Keiley licked her lips and looked at him again. His voice might be calm, but his expression and his eyes were anything but calm.
“I didn’t say it was Delia. ” It took every once of control she had to firm her voice, to push back the fear, to remind herself she was no seventeen-year-old again. She was a grown woman. A strong woman. A woman capable of accepting the consequences of her actions.
“You’re going to rub their fucking noses in it,” Jethro drawled then, incredulously. “That’s why you wanted to go dancing. ”
She risked a glance at his face only to stare out the windshield once again. It was just her luck, both men looked like volcanoes ready to explode. There wasn’t a chance she was taking either of them out in public tonight.
“That would be unwise. ” She finally cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Maybe going home would be better after all. ”
It took her a second to realize that rubbing their noses in it was exactly what she had intended. By morning, that picture would be on the tip of everyone’s tongue, and she would be damned if she was going to show any shame. She had intended to strike first.
