“Will you call me Lena?” I asked him.
“Why would you want me to do that?” I was discovering the many differences between Russell and Jake. Before his accident, Jake was lighthearted, fun, and complimentary. Russell seemed miserable.
“I just want to hear what it sounds like when you say it.”
“I’ll call you whatever you want. I’ll call you Strawberry Shortcake as long as my dick’s in your mouth.”
I sucked in a short breath and felt bile rise in my throat.
His expression was unapologetic. “What, did I say something to shock you, Lena?” he said sarcastically. “I thought that was why you were here. You want me to smack you around a little while I’m fuckin’ you, right?”
“No,” I said, barely audible.
“That wasn’t so convincing.”
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “No, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Two more.” He motioned for the bartender to refill our glasses. The bartender, a tall gangly man with shaggy blond hair, eyed me. There was something rueful in his expression.
“You want another, sweetheart?”
Russell pounded his fist on the bar. “That’s what I said.”
“I’m just checkin’ with the lady, Russell.”
When the bartender turned to retrieve the whiskey, Russell snorted, “Lady. Ha!”
Once the whiskey was poured, I downed it, hoping to lessen the fear and the pain I was feeling. “You’re nothing like him.”
“Who, Jake? You mean Jake Pussy McCrea? Yeah, no, I’m nothin’ like him.”
“He’s not . . . he wasn’t.” I started stammering and slurring. My vision was getting hazy.
He turned to me. “You should stick to using that mouth for what it’s good for.”
“I have to go,” I said, my voice sounding small and far away.
“Go where? You got a ride?”
“I don’t know why you’re being so mean.”
“Listen, you got a sweet little ass. I’ll drive you back to my room and give you what you want.”
“You’re drunk.”
He smiled wide and I noticed that one of his teeth was black. The rest were yellow, likely from chewing tobacco. Nothing like Nate’s straight, white teeth.
I took a deep breath to steady myself and put my head in my hands, my elbows propped on the bar. What am I doing here?
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. “Ava?” I looked down at the floor and saw a pair of black Converse before looking up into Nate’s squinting eyes. He was looking past my irises to the heart of me. But his eyes weren’t searching, they were pleading. He looked concerned. “Come with me?”
“How’d you find me?” I mumbled.
He wore a slight smile. “I didn’t want to spend another minute away from you. I called Red and he told me where to look.”
I remained silent as I stared at Nate’s concerned expression.
“Ava, I told Red and Bea that I’d take you back to the ranch. Come with me . . . please.” He reached his hand out.
“She’s with me,” Russell chimed in unenthusiastically.
“I don’t think so,” Nate said.
Russell stood up in a combative gesture, chest puffed out in Nate’s direction. “I don’t want any trouble with you, man,” Nate said.
“Who is this guy?” Russell asked.
I looked up and shrugged. I kept my gaze on Nate but answered Russell. “I don’t know for sure, but he’s harmless.”
When I stood from the bar, Nate stepped toward me and took my hands in his. Looking down at our hands, he said, “Don’t go with him, Ava, please.” Russell grabbed me by the shoulder and yanked me back out of Nate’s grasp. “Easy, man,” Nate barked.
I swayed, staring at Nate. “Let’s go, Lena,” Russell said, trying to pull me away.
“No, I won’t let you take her.” Nate stood tall in a white T-shirt and faded black jeans belted low on his narrow hips. He ran his fingers through his dark, tousled hair. The slits of his eyes seemed smaller but the green color was still piercing as he peered at me. Even though he was thinner than Russell, Nate carried himself confidently. The veins in his hands and forearms and the cut muscles in his upper arms made him seem much more intimidating than a bigger man.
Russell reached past me, his arm swinging wildly in a punch toward Nate. With his hands still in his pockets, Nate smoothly moved to one side and watched in amusement as Russell fell to the ground.
Nate grabbed my hand and began pulling me toward the door. “Let’s go.” Russell was on his feet in a second and coming after us.
Nate turned quickly and popped Russell in the nose with one swift jab. There was a crunching sound and then Russell fell to the ground, holding his face and bleeding like a pig. I stared down at him and watched the red stream gush from his nose and run down his neck onto the floor.
I let out a loud sob then fell to my knees. “Jake?” I knew it wasn’t him but the image was the same.
In the front room, seconds after I’d heard the gun go off, I’d found my Jake lying there, eyes open but unaware. He’d been alive for a few seconds but not breathing. It’d been hard for me to touch him, but I had. Sitting on the floor of the bar, I replayed the last seconds of Jake’s life as I held Russell’s head in my lap. “Why?” was all I’d said to Jake, knowing I’d never get the answer. The last thing I’d heard that night was the gurgling in his throat and the last beats of his heart, the last human sound Jake had made before his soul faded away and the life drained from his eyes.