Page 52 of Slow Burn
“I said get off my damn property!” That was Ned Turner, plain as day. Old and mean, all bile and bluster.
“Mr. Turner, please,” Jocelyn said, desperation in her voice.
“I ain’t repeatin’ myself, girl,” Ned growled. “You wanna know about that fire, talk to your daddy. He was there that day.”
She lurched forward, hands outstretched. “What do you mean?”
“What I said. I saw your daddy’s fancy car, sittin’ slick in the driveway like it belonged there. Now get off my damn property. This is a stand-your-ground state, and I got my shotgun right here.”
Cole’s blood surged. His jog broke into a sprint. “Hey!”
Both of them whipped toward him.
“You best watch yourself, Ned,” Cole barked, clenching his fists around air instead of Ned Turner’s bloated neck.
“Watch your own self, Hauser.” Ned glared, but he backed into the house, slamming the door so hard the windowpanes rattled.
Jocelyn’s face was drawn with fury—and not a little bit of fear. Cole slipped a hand around her arm, tugging her back toward the car.
“That man is crazy,” she sputtered, voice jagged with leftover adrenaline.
“Nah,” Cole muttered, keeping a keen eye on that front door. “Just an asshole. But assholes with guns aren’t worth stickin’ around for.”
She let him steer her to the car, that healthy fear doing its job. Her hair caught sunlight like embers, and she wore the same clothes as yesterday, though freshly washed. She looked fierce, and worn, and damn stubborn.
Cole guided her to the driver’s side then went to the passenger side door, yanking it open.
She stopped short, glaring. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Ridin’ back with you.” He arched a brow, daring her to argue.
Her mouth pinched, but she said nothing and slid behind the wheel. He climbed in after her, relief loosening his shoulders as she threw the car into reverse. The tires crunched over gravel too fast, and his hand went to the overhead bar as they shot out onto the road.
“Why were you at Ned Turner’s?” he asked, voice steady despite the way she was whipping around the curves.
“Same question,” she fired back, focus trained on the asphalt like it might buck her if she blinked.
He let out a slow breath, deciding to give her his truth first as a peace offering. “Out for my run, heard him jawin’ at you. Figured I’d better check.”
“Felt like rescuing me, you mean.” The teeth she put into the words didn’t have the same bite when her nerves gave her away.
Still, his hackles rose. “Give me a break, Jocelyn. He threatened you. You’re damn lucky I came along when I did.”
That earned him a sharp look, her lips pressed tight.
“Turner’s always been mean as a snake, but you got him riled.” When she didn’t respond, Cole pressed, “Get any answers?”
“Besides that jab about my father, no. He shut down the second he saw me. Looking like my mama doesn’t exactly help my case.”
She meant it serious, but the sulky tilt of her words made Cole bark a laugh before he could stop it.
Her glare had his humor drying up. “Sorry. Bad timing.”
She whipped the car to a stop in front of the Nail, dropping it into park but leaving the engine running.
“Come inside,” he said.
She sliced him with a look, apparently not keen on the invite.
