Page 45 of Harvest Brew With the Mountain Man
I turn when no one answers and freeze in place.
“Well, shit, baby,” Brian’s face contorts. “You abandoned me for this?” His shaking hand nudges a gold, vintage table piece I searched all week for on the internet.
My body moves, instinctively wanting to protect the piece, but at the smallest movement, Brian’s eyes narrow in on me.Fuck.
From here, his usually bright blue eyes are now blown wide by the pupil. It’s late October and he’s sweating, body coiled, movements agitated. This is the worst I’ve ever seen him.
My eyes focus on my phone, which isn’t in my pocket. No, I freaking left it on the table where he is.
Hysterical laughter breaks the deafening silence as he swipes everything off the tables, some pieces shattering on the ground.
“For fuck’s sake, Brian!” My heart cracks, watching beautiful pieces I’ve been excited all week to set up turn to nothing below his muddy feet.
“What are you doing here?” I demand. I can’t show weakness.
“Why the fuck did you block my calls, Camille?”
“You know why.”
He charges me, but I jump and put a table between us. “That’s close enough, Brian. Don’t you fucking touch me.”
His laughter is more erratic, sucking his teeth. “I need you to get that shit brain of a brother of yours to keep Black Feral off my ass,” he yells.
“I am not your mother. I am not your therapist. I am not your fixer. I am nothing to you as you are nothing to me.”
Brian tosses the table between us aside, rushing at me, grabbing my arms in a bruising hold.
He shakes me, my teeth clattering. “I was fucking good to you!” His spit splatters on my face. I turn away from his rancid breath. “You fucking owe me, bitch.”
“You’re hurting me,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
He was like Jekyll and Hyde.
His eyes clear for the slightest moment. “Baby, just come with me,” he attempts to cajole me. “Let’s go to Forsaken’s clubhouse. I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.”
I count my exits, scanning for weapons. If I could just get to the front door, Main Street is full of vendors prepping for next week, and tourists have already filtered into town.
“Brian,” I calm my tone. He’s so high, on who the fuck knows what—could be a mix of things, honestly. I focus on appealing to his delusion. “This is my place of work. How about we head to my car out front and see if Styx is nearby town. I’ll call him.”
His hands brush down the sides of my face, over and over, as he nods. “We’re gonna figure this out. I’m gonna get free from this debt, and you and I can go back home. I can’t wait to fuck you, baby.”
My body coils inside, but I force my exterior to remain calm.
“Come on.” I step to the side, but don’t get far before the switch happens.
“You fucking someone?” he asks.
“What?”
He grabs my arms again. I wince at the pain layering over his previous hold. “You smell different.” He sticks his nose into my neck. I pull back, but he shakes me. “Who are you fucking?” he yells in my face.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” West’s growl is dangerous before Brian’s ripped out of my space and thrown on the floor. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Who the fuck are you?” Brian roars back before stumbling to his feet. “You fucking him?” he demands of me.
West grabs Brian’s throat and slams him into the wall.
“Oh, God,” I gasp, stepping closer before Asher gently holds me back.
