HERO: An Unfit Hero Novel Read online

  There’s a growl and I hear him before I see him. The sheriff is here. He shouts and Emily goes limp beneath me.

  Turning my head to the side, my breath coming out in labored puffs, I freeze. His gun is drawn, but I don’t mistake the look of surprise on his face to see the naked woman beneath me.

  “There’s three of them, one more man and one pregnant woman somewhere in the house,” I say, suddenly able to speak.

  “Ass on the floor, James,” he growls.

  “But my side,” he whimpers.

  He tilts his head, his eyes narrowed on James. “Get your fuckin’ ass to the floor, you useless pile of shit,” he spits.

  James does as he’s instructed, but its full of complete reluctance. Sheriff Robby lifts his chin, holsters his gun and quickly takes off toward the back of the house. Emily drops the knife. Looking down at her, she looks completely defeated.

  I shake my head, my stomach fucking sick that this poor girl has been so abused. I help her so that she’s sitting on her ass and allow her to lean against the wall. Her eyes don’t look up, they’re focused on the floor, and she looks so fucking lost.

  Ford, Beaumont, and Louis are next to burst through the front door. They look to me, to the girl on the floor, then back to me just as the sheriff brings in Jacob and Jennifer by gunpoint.

  “Asses down and against the fucking wall,” he sneers.

  I watch as the three assholes walk over to the wall opposite Emily and sit down. Jennifer attempts to whine, but Robby actually cuts her off.

  “Shut the fuck up,” he barks.

  Turning my back from Emily, I walk over to the three of them, they all look pretty fucking pathetic right now. No longer are they in charge of anything, no longer are they holding an innocent pregnant woman against her will, or torturing a young girl. Right now, they just look fucking pathetic.

  Unable to hold myself back, I bring my foot behind me and deliver a kick to James’ ribs, right where I fucking shot him. I hear a sickening crunch as my composite steel toe boots connect to his side.

  Leaning down, I murmur low enough for just him to hear. “You ever fuck with my family again, and I swear to Christ I will hunt you down, skin you alive, and smile as you die. Channing is not yours anymore, neither is her baby. Stay the fuck away.”

  He doesn’t say anything, his eyes lift to mine and I watch him gulp. Finally, he fucking gets it—maybe. My eyes flit between the three of them, and I curl my lip.

  “Enjoy prison, you motherfuckers,” I snort, turning my back to them and walking over to Exeter. She’s still standing strangely still in the middle of the room, her eyes focused on Emily.

  “Exeter?” I ask, keeping my voice low, calm, gentle as if I’m trying to calm a spooked animal.

  Her entire body jerks, her eyes widen, and she turns to face me. “Don’t,” she warns.

  Holding my hands up in a surrender motion, I shake my head once. “I wasn’t,” I lie.

  Exeter turns from me, taking a step toward Emily and slowly sinks down in front of her. I watch as she whispers to her, trying not to strain to listen. I want to know her better, I want to know what Emily was referring to when she said their fathers had hurt them, though I’m pretty damn sure I don’t want to hear the truth of it, at all.

  Exeter stands, standing in front of Emily. Her body jerks, then she says loud enough for me to hear. “I will be here for you Emily, when all this is done, and you feel more like yourself. When you get some help, I will be here.”

  Emily turns her head to the side, choosing to ignore her cousin. I shake my head, wondering if there is any help for the young girl. I hope so, I hope she survives this, gets help, then thrives. Though judging by the dead look in her eyes, it’s going to take a damn long time.

  Exeter lets out a breath, she takes a step away from me, turning her back and then takes another step. I don’t let her go far. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around her bicep and gently tug her back against my chest.

  “Where do you think you’re goin’, sugar?” I ask, resting my mouth next to the shell of her ear.

  My cock grows painfully hard beneath my jeans as her plump ass collides against me. She attempts to jerk out of my grasp, but I hold her firm, careful not to grip her too tightly.

  “You helped your cousin. Hopefully I helped Emily, my cousin, now, I’m leaving,” she grinds out. “Let me go.”

  I make a tsking sound, pulling her a little closer, letting her feel how hard she makes my cock, just by standing near me. I hear her gasp, then she turns around in my arms. I don’t care that the room is full of people or that it’s chaotic as fuck. Everything melts away when my eyes find her light blue ones.

  Rylan’s roar breaks through our moment. I release her, glancing over to watch Rylan embrace Channing. I close my eyes at the obvious love and relief that consumes them. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect woman for my cousin. Both of them are so damaged, and yet, there is nobody else in the world for either of them.

  Exeter begins to walk toward the back of the house, but I don’t allow it. Closing the distance quickly, I wrap my fingers around her bicep, again.

  Instead of forcing her to stop walking, my legs take over and I march her fucking ass back to her MawMaw’s. If she thinks she’s going to run off without talking to me this time, she’s fucking lost her goddamn sense.

  EXETER

  Wyatt doesn’t let me run away from him, not like I want to. Instead, he marches me over to my MawMaw’s like a child. Once we’ve reached her back porch, I yank my arm free of his grasp. He lets me, because I have no doubt if he had wanted to squeeze his fingers tighter, to keep me where he wanted me, he would.

  I watch as he spreads his feet wide, planting them before he crosses his strong arms over his broad chest and then he levels me with a glare, then he spits on the ground next to my feet.

  “Talk,” he barks.

  “About what?” I ask, playing as dumb as I possibly can.

  I watch as his arms flex, and I have to squeeze my thighs together, because he looks so damn beautiful. Even glowering at me, he’s absolutely stunning and one hundred percent out of my league.

  My stomach clenches. I knew it at that bar, even when he took me home, I knew. And I left him so that I didn’t have to feel the sting of rejection that would eventually come.

  Now, he’s standing in front of me, after seeing my cousin naked and battered. He knows now, without a doubt he knows that I am so far beneath him, I’m like gum stuck to the bottom of his shoes.

  “You leave me that night because you been hurt?” he demands.

  I flinch, my head jerks and my breath escapes. He heard, of course he heard, but he heard Emily. I take a step back, but he doesn’t let me get far. He lets his large arms fall and reaches out for me, but he doesn’t grab ahold of me roughly like I expect. Instead, he wraps one hand around my hip, and the other he cups the back of my head.

  My eyes are wide, searching his gaze, but I don’t like what I see. He looks, soft, sweet. He looks like he wants to rescue me. My stomach clenches again, and my knees physically knock together. Once. Twice. Three times.

  “Your dad hurt you, sugar?” he asks softly.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I grind out, attempting to pull away from him, but he’s firm and he’s not letting me go anywhere. He’s keeping me right where he wants me, and it’s too damn close. He’s seeing too much, too damn much.

  Wyatt dips his chin, his nose slides along my temple and he inhales. My eyes automatically flutter closed and I lean into him, loving the gentle touch of him, the way his scent surrounds me. Loving everything about him, and simultaneously cursing myself for enjoying it so much.

  He hums, then I feel his breath against my ear. “It matters, Exeter. I want you, sugar. I want all of you. I just gotta know how to handle you,” he whispers.

  I bite the inside of my cheek, loving the way his words make me feel. Like he wants to protect me, like he wants me, really wants me. But if he knew, if he k
new anything about me, he wouldn’t want me at all.

  “I need to go inside, tell MawMaw that everything’s okay. She’s probably worked herself into a frenzy,” I lie. MawMaw’s cool as a cucumber, always has been.

  The only time I ever saw her even get upset was when she found out what happened to me, what my father had been doing to me for years. She marched over to his house, shotgun in hand and held it pointed directly at him while I packed my things. She threatened to call the police if she even so much as smelled him again, let alone saw him anywhere near me. MawMaw is my damn hero. Always has been.

  Wyatt releases me, but when my eyes lift to his, it looks like he’s in physical pain. Brushing past him, I expect him to leave, but instead he follows me inside. I look behind me, narrowing my gaze on him but he only shrugs, giving me the sexiest lopsided grin beneath his thick beard.

  “Everything okay over there?” MawMaw asks as soon as we walk into the living room.

  She’s got her stories on, which is really one of her soap operas. She’s always loved them, and I can’t hold back the smile as she pauses the television to look over at us, not wishing to miss a second.

  “Yes, ma’am. My cousin found his pregnant girlfriend, and the culprits have been taken care of. I want to give you my thanks,” Wyatt politely says with a dip of his chin.

  MawMaw blushes, I watch as she actually blushes from his dipped chin and white-toothed grin. “Well, I always knew that man was a bad seed, and so was his brother. I heard the rumors. I knew what kind of sick perverts they were,” she says, and I don’t miss the glance she spears me with, and I doubt that Wyatt does either.

  Damn.

  Wyatt turns his head, his eyes searching my face and I watch as they soften on me.

  Double damn.

  “Thank you again, ma’am. If there’s anything at all that I can help you with, or do for you, to repay your kindness, I would be much obliged,” he murmurs, his voice deep and rumbling.

  MawMaw waves her hand. “Just glad to see they’re finally going to pay for their sins.” She nods. “I do believe I’m a bit parched, I’ll just be making my way to the kitchen,” she mutters, standing and quickly walking away, no doubt to give us privacy.

  Triple damn.

  “This ain’t done, Exeter,” Wyatt announces.

  Then without giving me a chance to say anything in return, I watch him storm out of the house, the door slamming behind him.

  “That boy is built like a mighty oak, and he’s just about to fall making the loudest noise in all of creation,” MawMaw says from behind me.

  “What?” I ask, turning around to face her.

  “He’s sweet on you, child.”

  I shake my head, but she just spears me with a look. One that says she knows exactly what she’s talking about and she’ll argue with me until death, so I better just shut up and agree. I press my lips together, biting the inside of my cheek.

  Shit.

  Chapter Six

  WYATT

  Luckily, I wasn’t charged with anything after shooting James. Robby agreed that the fucker deserved it, in so many words. Self-defense. Apparently, Exeter corroborated that fact. Closing my eyes, I take a pull from my beer.

  Exeter.

  I want her, more than I’ve ever wanted any woman, I need her. There is something that is completely and totally different about her than any other woman I’ve ever met, and I want to know more—I want to know all of her.

  I spend the entire fucking day drinking. I’m pathetic, a fucking pathetic mess. So bad, in fact, that when I pick up my phone, I can’t stop myself from calling someone, someone I have zero reason whatsoever to call.

  “I’m nowhere near town, I’m not sure why you’re calling me,” she says as her greeting.

  I grunt, knowing she moved, but still feeling weird about that fact. She has been my fallback. She has been there when I needed to drown my regret in something other than booze.

  “Why, Sammi?”

  She sighs. “Why what?” She sounds impatient, and I guess she has a reason to be.

  We’ve been dancing around one another for over fifteen years. Somewhere lost in the limbo between love and hate, teetering more toward the side of hate more often than not.

  “Why didn’t you want me?” I ask, hearing the slur in my own voice.

  “You’re drunk, Wyatt,” she whispers, and it’s there in her voice—pity.

  The bitch is actually pitying me, and something about that makes me feel physically ill. I nod, closing my eyes as if she can see me, but thankful as fuck that she can’t. I’m so damn pathetic, it’s no wonder she pities me.

  Fuck, I pity myself.

  “I know I am. I shot someone yesterday. I can’t get the girl I want to even talk to me, and you left without a fuck you. I want to know what it is about me that makes me so fucking unwanted.”

  She makes a noise in the back of her throat but doesn’t speak. I wait her out, on the verge of ending the call just to save what little pride I have left. She inhales deeply then lets it out, and I wait for another moment.

  “Our shit, it has nothing to do with you. Me going and doing what I did, it didn’t have anything to do with you either, not really. I was young, we were young. Think about it, what if we had gotten married, do you think you’d be happy? Truly? We aren’t the same people now as we were back then, and I’m not sure we’d even like one another, let alone love each other.”

  “We aren’t the same people because of what you did,” I accuse.

  She sighs again, heavily. I know I’ve beat this conversation to death, more times than necessary, it’s dead and done. There is no going back, there is no changing what has been done. There’s no bringing the dead back to life.

  “I know,” she admits on a choke.

  “Fuck, I’m a dick,” I slur.

  She laughs, though it sounds fucking sad. “Yeah, I know that too,” she whispers.

  “I’m sorry, Sammi,” I admit, my shoulders shaking as I try to hold my-fucking-self together with everything that I am.

  She hums. “We’ve both been hurt, and we’ve both hurt one another. Don’t be sorry for feeling, Wyatt, and feeling deeply. It’s what makes you the best man that I’ve ever known,” she says and my heart fucking pounds so goddamn hard that I expect it to crack into a million pieces, but it doesn’t.

  “I won’t call you again. I’m just drunk, and Rylan’s woman was kidnapped and then she was there. Fuck. I’m such a fuckup.”

  “Whoever she is, she’s lucky to have you, don’t you ever forget that,” she states and then the phone is silent.

  Looking down, I realize she’s hung up on me, and I’m glad, she shouldn’t have even answered my call. I take another pull from my beer and curse when my phone rings. Frowning, I notice that it’s Rylan.

  “Hey, you home today?” he asks.

  I look down at the beer bottle in my hand, then at the fact that I’m wearing nothing but my boxer briefs and I grunt. “Yeah.”

  “Good.”

  He ends the call and I assume that means that he’ll be coming by later. Reluctantly, I decide to get up and shower. Stumbling around, it doesn’t take me long to feel human again, and slightly more sober than I did before I cleaned myself up.

  Standing in the middle of my living room, I look around and I hate everything about my house. I bought it because I was making good money, and I’d hoped that I would find a woman to share it all with. I never did, not until Exeter, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me.

  Frowning, I wonder if I could sell it and move out to the country. I think about Ford and his family ranch, how he’s out in the middle of nowhere and away from everyone. I want that. I want the freedom of being able to have a piece of Texas to call my own. A place where nobody can fucking bother me unless I want them to.

  Taking my phone out, I sit down on my sofa and start looking. I want at least ten acres, maybe more if I can swing it. I may never have a family of my own, won’t ever have ki
ds that run around the property that I buy. But Rylan and Channing will give me a family and I can’t wait to let their brood run amok wherever I land.

  There’s a knock on my door, and I finally smile, for the first time in what feels like years. It might be a stupid decision, but I doubt it. Taking myself away from this place, a home that holds too much fucking hope for a future that probably won’t ever come to fruition, removing myself. It’s what I need, a fresh start, so to speak.

  This is a home that a family is meant to fill. This place is supposed to have laughter and happiness, not the doom, gloom, and misery that I’ve filled it with for the past few years. With a nod, I make my decision.

  Opening the door, I’m greeted with Rylan and Channing looking up at me. Both of them look happy, but something else lays beneath their eyes. Worry, doubt, and unease. I hate that for them, both of them. I tilt my head to the side with a smile.

  “I wanted to talk to you, well, we wanted to talk to you,” Rylan finally mumbles.

  EXETER

  I sigh as I cuddle the newborn baby to my chest. “I’m sorry little lady, it’s going to be cold,” I warn.

  Setting the baby down on the small bed pad that we use for baby’s first bath. This is my last patient to see before my end of shift and I can’t deny that I was more than happy to come in here and give the newborn her first bath, it’s my favorite part of this job.

  “Is she okay?” the new mother asks from her bed.

  She’s just had a cesarean section and can’t sit up more than where her bed is already placed. I look back to her as I open the small bottle of baby wash.

  “She’s perfectly fine, can you see me from there?” I ask. “I’m going to give her a bath, then you get her right back.”

  She hums and I watch her eyelids flutter closed. The baby wails, angry with me for taking her away from her nice warm burrito blanket wrapping. I coo at her and talk gently, my voice never rising as her small cries fill the room.

  Once she’s clean and dry, I put a fresh diaper on her, then wrap her back in her blanket. The mother is sound asleep and alone. I frown, wondering where the father, or her family, is. Surely someone would want to cuddle this new life. Usually, the rooms are packed full with family and friends by this time.