Used (Unlovable, #1) (Unlovable Series) by Lynetta Halat Read Free Book Online Page B

scream. “I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you,” I cry.
    “Denver?” My head flies up when I hear the familiar voice. Oh, no. Oh my God.
    “Greer,” I choke out.
    He looks confused and frozen. “What’s going on?”
    “He was going to …”
    Greer whips around and stalks to the corner, grabbing a pitchfork.
    “No, Greer,” I cry, as he runs at a cowering Blake. He’s standing over him before I can move.
    “She’s not going to kill you. I am,” he says quietly. His quiet is deceiving because I can feel a cold, calm vehemence steeling his every word.
    I shove to my feet, and pulling up my jeans, I stumble to him and throw my arms around him. “No, Greer, come on. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
    “Oh, I won’t regret it.”
    “Please, Greer, he didn’t hurt me. I’m OK. Let’s go tell my momma.” I cling to him and squeeze him tighter.
    “I want to hurt him,” Greer says. “I want to hurt him like he hurt you.” He slices the air with the pitchfork, and both Blake and I cry out. He stops an inch from Blake’s face. “Do you see this, you bastard?” Blake whimpers and nods. “This is the least of your worries. You ever come near her again, you’ll never see me coming. Do you understand?”
    “I’m sorry,” Blake cries out. “I thought … I thought she wanted it.”
    “You thought no such thing. I heard her screaming. Did that sound like want to you?” he screams the question.
    “No, no. I’m sorry, Denver.”
    “Don’t speak to her, you scum. Come on, Denver. Let’s go tell your momma.”
    Blake’s sobs grow louder, and he whines, “No, Denver. I can’t lose her.”
    “Don’t you mean you can’t lose her money? You should have thought of that before.”
    I unwrap my arms from around Greer and pull him backwards until he begins to walk with me out of the barn. He drops the pitchfork and sweeps me in his arms, hugging me tight. A shiver courses through him, and my body shivers in response. Pulling back, he places his hands on the side of my head. “Denver, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
    “Oh, Greer, don’t be sorry. I got away. It wasn’t going to happen. I’d rather die.”
    “That’s just not acceptable, chicken.” He turns my face toward the light and lets out a muffled curse. Running his hands down my arms, he rubs up and down, and I realize it’s because I’m trembling. “You’re OK,” he soothes. His eyes do a once-over. “Here, baby,” he murmurs, as he zips and buttons my jeans. He’s so gentle and treats me as though I’m shattered but not yet broken. I close my eyes tight, my mind whirling with “what if’s.” Number one on my list of worries—is my golden boy going to hold this against me like I asked for this or something? Isn’t that what guys do? Take it out on the girl because he had no control over what’s happened.
    “Come on. Let’s go see your mom.” I just nod and follow him to the house.
    It’s quite the scene. My mom screams and cries and throws Blake out of the house. She hugs me and thanks Greer for coming back to the barn. He assures her that I’d gotten him off of me. He tells her I may not be so lucky next time, and that it’s up to her to protect me and keep Blake away from me. She agrees and heads off to bed because she’s “overwrought.” And she should be exhausted. She put on an award-winning performance.
    As I sit at the bar with an icepack on my tender cheek, Greer leans against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, looking deceptively relaxed with one boot kicked out over the other. We just stare at each other for I don’t know how long. My eyes get heavy as the weight of what has happened catches up with me. Pushing himself off the bar and unfolding his arms, he strides around to me and scoops me off my barstool.
    “Greer,” I protest.
    “Hush now,” he whispers. “I’m gonna tuck you in.” He takes me to the bathroom and deposits me at the door. “Go in and clean