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“Gib . . .”
“No, Tess. I get it. You want to protect her privacy. But I saw her tonight. She’s shaken and doesn’t need to be alone.”
“If I leave now, I can go check on her. We’re taking the company jet for the trip. They can hold it.”
“Or I can go out there, and you can go on your vacation. Come on, you know she’s safe with me. I’ll go check on her and get her to come back home. No way should she be staying alone in some ramshackle place. She can have my cabin at the Ranch if she needs a place to get away for a week.”
Tessa was quiet for a moment. “She’ll be seriously pissed at me if I send you out there.”
“Have you seen any horror flick ever made? Single woman alone in the woods in a broken-down house?”
“That’s not playing fair.”
“But it’s true. Come on. Let me help her. I know I screwed things up, but I still care about her and can be a friend to her.”
Tessa let out a beleaguered sigh. “A scared Sam is not a good Sam. She’ll lash out at anyone who tries to help. It’s one of the things that got her kicked out of so many foster placements. I can sometimes get past that wall, but she’s going to be in full-scale defense mode.”
“You don’t think I can handle that?”
“You can’t push her or caveman her. It will make things worse.”
He rubbed his brow, his heart beating fast at the thought of Sam out there alone in the woods. He wanted to push. He wanted to go out there, haul her over his shoulder, and bring her back home with him. But Tessa was right. If he tried that shit with Sam, she’d run farther and faster. He took a calming breath, trying to keep his voice even. “I’ll be whatever she needs me to be in order to get her back home safely.”
“Whatever she needs? You really mean that, Gib?” That was Kade again. Great, they’d put him on fucking speakerphone.
Gibson gritted his teeth. His brother was always doing that, poking that tender spot. “I mean it.”
“Good. Then go get her, man. If you don’t, I’m driving out there myself. That place is a goddamned death trap.”
Tessa groaned, but then he heard the sheets shift and a soft thump, like she was falling back onto a pillow in defeat. “I’ll text you the address.”
“Thank you.”
“I’d say let me know how she’s doing once you get out there, but I’ve been out that way. The cell reception is shit. So text me when you head back home,” Tessa said.
“Will do.”
“And, Gib . . .”
“Yeah?”
“If you hurt her, I’m kicking your ass.”
“And I’ll hold you down while she does it,” Kade added.
“I’m not going to hurt her.” He leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. She’ll hurt me first.
If only he could let her.
Chapter 3
Sam’s T-shirt clung to her, sweat glazing her back, as she ran the hand sander over the scarred hardwood in her grandmother’s dining room. The steady sound of the machine was usually good for blocking out thoughts and putting her in a state of zen, but for the last two hours her brain had proven to be louder than the obnoxious machine. And the one time she’d attempted to take a break and turn the thing off, the silence had clawed at her like some evil beast. Every creak of the old house, every rustle outside, had made her jump and tense. Which pissed her the fuck off. This was the place where she was most at home, her refuge, and those disgusting shitheads had tainted that, put that creeping fear back in her.
She gritted her teeth and tried harder to focus, making sure to keep the machine moving so that she wouldn’t get lost in thought and grind her way right through the damn floor. The first signs of dawn were peeking through the tattered curtains, and the wood dust danced in the soft light. Good. At least she’d have light to work by now. The electrical system in the house tripped anytime she plugged in more than one or two things. So the sander and a floor lamp were all she’d allowed herself since she’d gotten here. The shadows had felt oppressive. She needed the light today, needed to stand outside in the wildflower field that flanked the property and feel the sun on her face, chase the chill that had settled into her bones.
She’d do that. After she completed this room. She needed to finish this to feel like she’d beaten this horrible night, that she’d gotten something accomplished despite it. She shifted forward, her back aching and the kneepads not offering much cushion anymore, to tackle the last section of the floor. She was almost there when the loud hum of the machine cut off with a whine and the lamp blinked out. That thick silence of a power outage blanketed the room, the only sound left was a dripping faucet from kitchen.
“NO!” She shook the machine. “No, no, no!”
