Burning Barriers (Barriers Series Book 3) (13 page)

I sprint all the way out to the back horse pen where Andrea stands with two beautiful horses. I can instantly tell which one is Jake’s, the giant draft horse that clearly says
alpha male
and ought to have “wide load” branded to his ass. Roman Numeral certainly fits Jake’s personality to a T.

I hear Jake’s loud feet jogging up behind me and turn my head over my shoulder. It must have taken a few extra minutes to handle the hardened wood in his pants. I felt bad having to leave him like that, but I knew if I didn’t stop, I might do something I wasn’t sure I was ready to do just yet. I love sex, and I’ve had Jake’s image in my head all these years with the number of guys I’ve slept with. After Stone’s attack, I knew trusting men would be hard, but that was before all this happened. Before I came home. Before Jake came back into my life. He wasn’t subtle about it either. It was like an avalanche coming down the mountain.

He’s still in love with me, and as I stare back at his stupid grin and running form coming at me, I know it’s there plain as day. I’ve never stopped loving him either.

Jake makes me smile. He’s helped me in just the short time I’ve been home to let go of some of the demons that have plagued my head for the last couple of months. It’s strange how the one person I wanted to avoid at all costs before coming home is the one person who has been able to help me.

Sometimes life throws you a major curveball in order for you to figure out shit. I know jack-shit about baseball, but I’d say this has been more like a knuckleball since I came home. That thing dancing all over the place before I finally connect and hit it out of the park. That’s what this chick needs to do. I cannot leave here the same way I came back. Juicy Lucy needs to resurface, and right now, I can see the final stretch to getting back there, and he’s standing in front of me.

“What took you so long? I was about to mount that horse without you.” I laugh as I turn to head over to where Andrea is standing with another girl whose back is facing me. I barely take two steps before strong arms are wrapped around my waist, and I’m being hoisted over his shoulder. “Jake! Oh my God! Put me down!” I shriek.

One hand holds on for dear life to his belt buckle, and my other hand keeps my hat attached to my head. Jake’s heavy feet make long strides over the dirt and rocks, yet he effortlessly keeps me over his shoulder. His build is much more solid than I remember from high school. It’s obvious in the size of his shoulders and biceps alone that firefighter training has done wonders to his physique. When he suddenly stops, I slap his ass hard and can’t help but laugh at the same time.

Jake grabs me by the waist, lifting me over his shoulder again and slowly sliding me down his chest and onto the ground. His masculine scent and heavy breathing leave me panting heavily and lost for words. My chin lifts to see him staring down at me with a brash grin as his face inches closer to mine. Before I have a chance to question him, his lips connect with mine again. This time it’s different than before. The collective gasps behind me quickly tell me we have an audience. My face blushes once our lips part, and I’m all of a sudden afraid to turn around.

Jake manages to force me to face the music by pulling my hand and tugging me to the wooden fence where the horses are tied. I see Andrea adjusting the reins on whom I assume is Pumpkin Pie. He’s chestnut brown from head to hoof except for his silky golden yellow mane. Jake makes his way over to Roman Numeral and secures the saddle while I run my fingers up the side of Pumpkin Pie. As his head drops to the side, I see someone staring back at me.

Laurel
.

Her eyes shoot daggers into me. Her long, caramel brown hair flows in the wind, and her perfectly manicured nails tap away at the hard case over her cell phone. I’m not sure when or how but Laurel has made her way to within a foot of where I’m standing. My grip tightens on the saddle horn, as I can smell the all too familiar scent that radiates off her. She’d always wear that perfume whenever she barrel raced back in high school with our group at the ranch. The only problem was she never wanted to get her hair messed up or her couture clothing dirty.

Dumb skank.

Even worse images of that
dumb skank
with Jake have bile now rising in my throat. Then, my blood boils as I remember him saying how he and Laurel had sex in the barn. The same fuckin’ barn we were just in less than ten minutes ago.

The sound of her prissy, smug voice filters through my head, and I’m seething. No, I want to rip her freakin’ hair out strand by strand until she’s bald. Yes, that would bring me joy, but my mind suddenly processes what she said.

“I’m sorry, Laurel. Did you intend for that little jab to hurt me?” I say as I pull the stirrup down one notch before Jake makes his way around the backside of my horse. His hand settles on the small of my back as I pull the leather belt down tight.

“Everything okay, Luce?” Jake asks from behind me. I can’t turn around to look at him. If I do, I’ll see him with Laurel instead of me in my mind, and I know that awkwardness would be inevitable. But, I can’t show her my jealous side, or she will stab a knife into my back and twist until I can no longer be a burden. She’s hated me since the day she knew Jake wanted me over her.

Laurel is the upper-class townie that worked for minimum wage at the ranch, even though she was part of a family that lived in the gated community where only people that made more than six digits a year lived. Jake’s parents’ ranch was worth a shit ton of money, but his parents would never flaunt that, and although the house where Jake lives now is considered luxurious compared to the little Victorian my parents own, the Galloway family never rubbed their worth in my face. Laurel… well, she’s the exception.

I pull the reins from the fence tie, and with my stirrup secure and ready, I grab the saddle horn and shove my foot into the metal hole. Jake puts his hands on my hips. “Don’t! I’ve got it,” I spurt at him, subduing my emotions but keeping my head straight ahead.

“Luce…”

I hear the discontent in his voice, but I can’t say anything in front of Laurel. Andrea shows up along the opposite side of my horse and adjusts the length of my other stirrup. As she puts my foot into the metal brace, she looks up at me before handing me the other dangling rein and pulls down my pant leg. Her eyes are soft and kind, just as I remember. Her hand reaches up and touches my knee. “She’ll never be you in his eyes,” Andrea whispers, and I know she’s talking about Laurel. She means for me not to take Laurel’s comment to heart, but damn, if I’m going to let that twatwaffle walk all over me.

As Andrea walks away, she glances at Jake and gives him a stern eye before turning to Laurel and asking her to come back into the office with her to go over some paperwork. Just as Laurel walks past Jake, I turn my head and open my mouth, knowing I
will
get the last word with her. And I will make sure Jake knows exactly what she said to me before he came over.

“Hey, Laurel,” I snap, and she turns to look at me stare down at her. “Next time you want to say you know a good plastic surgeon who can make scars disappear, you might want to consult with your own beautician who clearly isn’t covering your roots properly or threading those eyebrows perfectly. Oh, and from what I can see from up here, your upper lip could really use a new bleaching. I sure hope you didn’t have the same issue when they bleached your asshole, too!” The look of fire and death shoots from her body, and I know I hit a nerve. Her beauty has always been her asset, and without it, she’s nothing. I ride my horse a little closer to where she’s standing. “If you make another comment to me about something you don’t know shit about, Laurel, you better think twice before you speak. The last I checked you might have had Jake for one drunken night, but I’m the one who’s been in his heart all these years
.” Laurel’s scowl tells me I have my accusations right. She’s completely fake. Her pompous grin begins to drop, and I know I’ve struck a chord somewhere. Almost instantly, she laughs and mutters something about Jake not wanting a piece of ass as classless as me under her breath.

Rage builds within my body, and I feel my blood start to boil. My eyes narrow upon her designer clothes and tall stick-thin frame, and my anger gets the better of me. I kick my foot out of the right stirrup and quickly swing my leg back over the back of the horse. My other foot falls out easily, and my feet hit the dusty ground with a thud. I instantly turn to storm over toward her. As I stand toe-to-toe with her, my body trembles with fury. Her egotistical grin returns when she thinks she’s had the last laugh. I don’t even feel it coming until my fingers twitch at my side and my palm connects with Laurel’s cheek.

I watch her stumble back a few shaky steps and hold her hand against the side of her face.

“Tell me something, Laurel. What do you think you’re going to gain out of this? It’s a lose-lose situation for you. Jake said so himself. He never had feelings for you. So, whatever game you’re trying to play here isn’t going to work. I’m not the same girl who left here. Roller derby has been quite helpful when it comes to throwing an elbow in sticky situations. You inult me again, and I’ll add a black eye to match that cheek.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice SJ and Jake making their way in our direction cautiously. I know I probably shouldn’t have hit Laurel, but damn, if she wasn’t asking for it. And honestly, she was wearing on my last nerve. She was annoying in high school, but now, she’s even more of a manipulative bitch.

I stare down into my open palm and see the redness forming from slapping Laurel. As I look up, I notice her getting ready to spout out some other threatening remark. I beat her to the punch before she can get out another insult. “Maybe if you stopped being so shallow, Laurel, you'd actually realize that beauty doesn't always win the hearts of all men. You should ask SJ what his feelings on the subject are. You know, since you are dating him and all.”

Laurel’s face turns a bright shade of red, and fear settles in her eyes before she turns abruptly and her leather boot-covered feet truck their way back to the house. I watch as SJ runs up next to her. As he reaches out to try to run his hand over her face, she quickly swats his hand away and storms through the front door to the house.

The moment she’s out of sight, I feel Jake’s presence near me. Not once since the attack has anyone been able to make me see my scar as a hindrance. Perhaps they have, but I have never wanted to admit that it will always be the first thing someone sees when they look at me now.

SJ stands there staring at the door for what seems like forever just waiting for her to come back outside. A part of me believes deep down he honestly cares for her despite her inability to get over Jake, but those questions can all be addressed another day.

Jake comes around from behind my horse to hand me the reigns again.
“Luce, what did she say that upset you so much?” he asks. My mind and body might be radiating with anger, but inside I’m hurting. For the first time since leaving the hospital, someone has verbally acknowledged my injury. If it were a simple question directed at me, it wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as it does right now. Would it? Laurel was deliberately pointing out a
flaw
in me. Her only way to fight has been to verbally hurt others when she knows she can’t win any other way. Clearly, nothing has changed in her over the years.

I know my roller derby teammates back home would never make me feel as though my scars define who I am. They have always seen beyond the physical imperfections. We battle on the track, and scars and bruises are typically part of our life. I’ve been fortunate enough not to have anything more than a sprained wrist and some bruises here and there, but in my everyday nine-to-five job that’s waiting for me when I get home, what happens then? What happens when I go back to the salon? It’s not as though my clients won’t ask, but will they judge me the same as Laurel did? Is Laurel right? Should I consider the alternative and see a plastic surgeon about reducing the appearance of the scar tissue? I already know the answer before I finish my thought.

You can take away the physical appearance all you want, but the memories will always be there.

I quickly move around Jake and get right back up on my horse and tighten my grip on the leather reigns between my fingers. “Luce? Talk to me.” I hear Jake’s voice through my clouded head of random thoughts. My eyes trail down to see him rubbing my knee with his thumb before slightly squeezing it. He must sense something is going on with me. I’m never one to hold back my thoughts and feelings, but right now, I can’t find the words. “It’s nothing. C’mon. Let’s get going. You lead the way. I’ll be right behind you.” And just like that, Jake makes his way over to Roman Numeral, shoving his boot into the stirrup and mounting him effortlessly.

I quickly adjust myself in the saddle and push my legs down to get a feel for the riding position. It’s been far too long since I’ve ridden a horse. I give Pumpkin Pie a little nudge with my heel to get him trotting. Jake is right behind me and pulls up along my side just as we are making it to the start of the trail. We wind through the flat trail between lush aspen and evergreen trees. The fresh air calms my nerves, and any anger that might have lingered is long gone. The leather western saddle squeaks with each subtle movement I make. The sounds of birds in the trees and flowing water remind me of why this has always been my favorite trail. After a few short silent moments, we come to the clearing in the trail and stop at the rushing stream.

Jake lets his horse drop his head to grab a drink of water. I allow my eyes to travel across the expanse of everything around me. Even in July, the mountains still contain a hint of winter on their peaks, the open field of wildflowers varies in color and size, and the air is so clean and refreshing that it all becomes overwhelming. As I pat the neck of my horse, I struggle to find the words that haven’t been said once since the day I left here.

“Jake,” I softly say as I turn my head in his direction.

“Yeah, Luce?” Jake leans over his saddle horn on his elbows.