Make You Mine by K.T. Quinn

32

Charlotte

I couldn’t hear what Sid and his goons were doing outside. The only sounds were the constant drone of rain on the roof of the barn, and the thunderclaps that continued hammering the small Georgia town. All I knew was that I felt safe in the closet, huddled behind Jayce’s laundry bag like a terrified mouse.

Eventually their motorcycles roared to life. I didn’t know how long it had been except that my knees ached from crouching in place for so long. Their gargling engine noises dimmed in the distance as they departed.

Even still, I was too terrified to move for a few minutes longer. Just to be certain.

I stretched and peeked out of the closet, then went to the door. They had left it open a crack, allowing me to peer out into the rain without opening it. Jayce’s bike still stood where it had before underneath a plastic rain-cover. They must not have wanted to mess with it in the downpour. They also hadn’t left anyone behind to wait for Jayce or cause any other trouble. I was indeed alone.

Still, the run-in with Sid left me shaken. His danger had been an abstract sort of idea up until this point. Hiding in the closet, where an accidental sneeze might have meant death, suddenly reinforced just how careful Jayce and I had to be.

I retrieved my damp clothes and put them on, then found my cell phone in the folds of the bed sheet. Thank goodness they hadn’t seen it—and thank goodness my mom had called before they showed up, not after. I would be utilizing silent mode a lot more often from this point onward.

I gave Jayce a call, but it went straight to voicemail. It’s probably nothing, I thought, instead sending him a quick text to let him know what had just happened. Then I climbed into the loft, found a relatively dustless spot behind two boxes, and waited for Jayce to get home.

I was fairly certain the sound outside was his beat-up truck squelching through the mud, but I waited for him to announce himself before leaving my hiding spot. He threw open the sliding barn door and rushed inside.

“Charlotte?” Jayce bellowed, panic in his voice. “Charlotte!”

“I’m up here,” I said as I climbed down from the loft. “What’s wrong? Are we in danger?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” he muttered, rushing forward to wrap me in his arms. He held me so tight I almost couldn’t breathe. “I thought I’d lost you. I saw the bike marks in the mud outside, and their boot prints leading inside, and you were gone…”

I hadn’t noticed the black, muddy prints scattered all over the floor. “I texted you to let you know what happened.”

“I turned my phone off, just in case.”

“In case of what? Sid’s tracking you or something?” I laughed as if that were ridiculous.

“You don’t know how much power he has. The strings he can pull.”

We sat on the bed and I caught Jayce up on everything he’d missed. He listened quietly, nodding along as I went over everything.

“They must’ve handed off tonight’s shipment early. My contact said Sid was supposed to be gone all night.” He put his hand on my leg. “I’m sorry I put you in danger. I should have taken you home straight away.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m safe now.” I cleared my throat. “So what happened at Flop’s?”

His gaze hardened. “Carl is all taken care of. He won’t bother you, or us, ever again.”

I felt my jaw drop. “Did you… You mean you…”

I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. Fortunately, Jayce immediately shook his head.

“Fuck no. We didn’t kill him. We gave him to a friend who’ll lock him in a shipping container out of Jacksonville on its way to China. By the time it arrives in three weeks, you’ll be long gone from Eastland.”

“Oh, okay.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew Jayce had a dark history, but it was comforting knowing he wasn’t that bad of a man.

“Jesus, Peaches. You thought I would kill someone in cold blood?”

“I don’t know.”

He flashed a half-amused, half-offended smirk. “You think I’m the kind of man who would do that?”

“I don’t know what kind of man you are. I thought you were a biker bad boy, but it turns out you’ve got an artistic side.”

I let a smile crawl onto my lips.

He groaned. “You went into my workshop.” He got off the bed and strode across the room.

“I warned you that I was going to do a little snooping. I like your art!”

“Sure you do,” he muttered, closing the sliding door to the workshop. He grabbed a nearby chain and started to clamp a padlock over the door handles to lock it.

I stopped him with a gentle hand to the back of his neck. “I think those statues are the only beautiful thing in this crummy, run-down town.”

He paused with his hands on the padlock. “You’re just sayin’ that.”

“It’s true. They’re… haunting, in a beautiful sort of way. If that makes sense.”

He dropped the chains and turned around. His eyes were soft and vulnerable.

“I wanted them to be haunting. To reflect how everyone feels about this town, stuck under Sid’s thumb.” He lowered his gaze, then looked at me again. “I like making things with my hands. Creating something rather than just… destroying. Leaving something behind that will be here long after I’m…”

Jayce shrugged as if he were uncomfortable. Not from talking about his potential death, but about the things he had created. He wrapped me in a hug, and whispered, “Thank you,” into my ear.

I hugged him back, and could feel how desperately he’d needed that sort of validation. I ran my hands through his hair until he finally let go.

“So you learned to make art by welding at a factory?”

“Uh huh.” He motioned with his hands, and for a moment I could picture him bending the metal with his strength. “There’s an art to welding. I just sort of, I dunno, translated it over to something more creative.”

“You’ll have to make one of those for my momma.”

He leaned back an inch. “Really?”

“She loves cheesy yard art like that. Something for the birds to sit on.”

He shoved me playfully and we laughed, taking the tension away from the previous moment.

“What are we going to do about Sid?” I asked.

The tension came right back. Immediately I regretted bringing it up, wishing we could go back to the way things were just seconds before. When all our problems seemed a hundred miles away.

“I don’t know, Peaches,” he admitted. He took both of my hands in his. “But for now, I want to make the most of tonight.”

I squealed as he threw me on the bed, tore off my damp clothes, and buried his face between my thighs. I arched my back as he ate me out like he was a starving man, one who craved only the taste of me.

Tonight was for us. Tonight we were safe.