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NOLAN
TWO DAYS LATER
“Can I help you,sir? We have a two for one special going on this month,” an older woman at the taxidermy booth asks as I stop in front of it, pretending to be interested in what is this, a stuffed skunk? Gross. Why would anyone think taxidermy is romantic?
“No, thank you ma’am,” I say but I am not looking at her. My eyes have found Cheryl two booths down. She’s eyeing some kind of shimmery red fabric. She laughs and smiles with the merchant of the booth. I can’t hear what she’s saying but I can hear her musical laughter in the wind, tinkling like a bell.
“How long have you been in love with Cheryl?” she asks. I whip my head around so fast to look at her.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s plain as day, Mr…?
“Pike. Nolan Pike. Mrs?” I ask.
“Granville. So how long?” she asks, not letting it go.
“Forever,” I reply, though I am not sure why I’m telling this woman that.
“I thought as much. She’s on the move again. You better catch up with her before you lose her, but don’t you worry, Mr. Pike, your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Granville,” I say before taking off again.
I’m at the festival, discreetly following Cheryl as she browses the booths. I soak in everything she buys, the things that she skips, and the things that she loves but doesn’t buy. I notice it all. Every now and then, I pretend to be browsing as well, but nothing here interests me but her. As she nears the Adult’s Only booth, which is really a tent, I lose the pretense of browsing and following her inside. As it’s enclosed, I wouldn’t be able to see her from afar, and I find that I don’t like that. Stepping inside, it smells like patchouli incense, weed, and sex. Fuck. Glancing around the tent, I see that there aren’t many people inside, and I spot Cheryl easily. She’s standing in front of a table of dildos.
Large dildos.
Very large dildos.
I watch her fingers dance over one of them. She’s biting her damn lip and I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking. Is she thinking about me? Some other motherfucker? Okay, maybe my girl isn’t as innocent as I thought she was but that doesn’t matter. She’s mine. She’s listening to the girl behind the table as she presumably talks about the items she has for sale. Cheryl nods at something the other woman says and smiles at her. It’s then that I notice a man walk up beside her. He engages her in conversation, and she answers him to be polite, but I can tell she doesn’t like the attention from him. The man, no scratch that, the dead man, then reaches out and touches her arm. She shakes him off of her, like a good girl. When the booth attendant walks away, he shoots his shot by touching her ass. Immediately, I see red. I am vaguely aware that she tries to move his hand, but he just squeezes her tighter and tighter. I am already moving toward the man when I hear her cry out in pain. I grip the man’s wrist, twisting it until he releases her. Then I push him away from her before getting in his smug face.
“Who. The. Fuck. Do. You. Think. You. Are?” I demand, punctuating each word with a punch somewhere on his face. Both eyes, nose, cheeks, I don’t care where I hit him. “How dare you touch what’s not yours. You’re fucking lucky I can’t be spending the rest of my life in prison.”
“Sorry man, I didn’t know she was taken,” he says, holding his arms in surrender. While I do note it, I ignore it because I am too pissed off and amped up to stop. I get him down on the ground and lean over him.
“Maybe you’ll think twice next time, huh?” I’m honestly surprised the sheriff isn’t here already hauling me in for assault and battery.
“I will. I’ll think twice,” he replies, thinking that’s what I want to hear.
“No. This woman specifically. You won’t touch this woman again. Say it,” I demand.
“I won’t touch that woman again,” he replies pointing at Cheryl from his position on his back. I slap at his hand and get a good look at the man, his face is busted open in several places, blood dripping from his nose. Good.
“Damn right you won’t touch her again, mother fucker,” I growl, pulling him back up to a standing position by the popped collar of his pale pink shirt. “Keep your hands to yourself without consent, now get the fuck out of here before I do something really crazy.”
I stand there looking down at my bloody hands and clench my fists. I look back and forth between my hands and the man lying on the ground. The audacity of some people astounds me. I suck in several deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.
“Nolan?” I close my eyes as she touches my shoulder hesitantly. Fuck, I hate that hesitation. “Nolan, what…?” she asks, when I don’t respond.
“Doll, don’t touch me right now. I am too worked up. You touching me might not end the way you write in your books, babe. Not when someone who has no right to be touching you, had his grimy fucking paws on you, harassing you. I am not in control of myself right now, Cheryl,” I tell her, ready to sweep her up in my arms and take her away from all this blood and gore.
“Are you saying you would hurt me, Nolan?” she asks, and I die inside. I turn to face her and her beautiful blue eyes that are full of unshed tears widen.
Even though I’d kill for her, I know she’s not ready to hear that. Not yet, but after this there’s no going back.
Not for me.
CHAPTER9
