She was only able to take one step before Greer caught her arm, practically lifting her off her feet to carry her outside, preventing her escape. She was too embarrassed to call out. To most of the people in the bar it seemed as if they had gotten carried away from the music and were leaving to make out.
When he opened the truck door, he stood there until she was inside, even buckling her seatbelt himself.
“Don’t try to get out before I can get in,” he warned.
“I won’t.” She numbly sat still as he climbed into the truck.
Shivering, Holly pulled her jacket closer around her. Every one of her messages floated through her mind on the ride back to the house. The one that embarrassed her the most was when she had confessed to loving him.
“How’d you find out?” She held on to her door as Greer turned the corner toward her house.
“I saw your computer sitting on the kitchen table. I was going to tell you good night.”
How could she have been so stupid? Imagine his surprise when he had opened her laptop and saw the very site they had talked on staring him in the face.
All she would have had to do was close the freaking browser.
From the glow of a streetlamp they passed underneath, she saw on Greer’s face that he was going to make her pay for that mistake.
16
Holly furtively unbuckled her seatbelt, holding it in place with one hand as her other one inched toward the door handle. When Greer braked in front of Mrs. Langley’s garage, she opened the truck door and released the belt so fast the metal clanked against the roof.
As soon as her feet hit the ground, she took off at a run. She then dug her house key out of her pocket before she was halfway up the sidewalk.
The sound of Greer’s truck door slamming closed had her giving a small scream of fright. She practically pounded the key into the lock before turning it and jerking the door open with all the strength she possessed.
Turning, she tried shutting the door, but Greer was already there, pushing on it.
“Let me in,” he growled from the other side.
“No. Go away!” she yelled, using her shoulder to close the door before he could get inside.
“Hell fucking no!”
Holly screeched when her feet started sliding along the floor.
Realizing the futility of what she was doing, she released the door and took off toward her bedroom. If she could make it, she could possibly lock him out long enough to call Dustin or Tate for help.
Running down the hallway, she heard the front door close and Greer’s boots following her. Skidding into the kitchen, she turned the corner that led to her bedroom. Hearing his curse, she knew the slick floor had almost claimed him as a victim, too.
She ran through the doorway of her bedroom, grabbing the door and starting to close it, only to see Greer behind her, blocking her with his hand on the door.
Panting, she took a step back as he came farther into the room, closing the door with a soft click.
She looked toward the bedroom door, but before she could make a move toward it, Greer grabbed her arm and pushed her against the wall beside the door. His chest crushed her as he panted from running.
She jumped when he pounded the wall right beside her head with his fist.
“Don’t hit me!”
“Woman, you need an ass whipping, and you’re going to get it. But first, I want some answers.” Greer hit the wall again, and she cringed when she saw he had left a gaping hole in it.
“Let me call Tate or Rachel, and we can sit down and talk about this calmly.”
“You think they’re going to protect you from me?” From the pft sound he made, she reckoned they wouldn’t.
Staring up him fearfully, she then closed her eyes. When she felt him release her, she opened her eyes to see him standing in front of her.
“Start talking.” His grim face didn’t make it easy.
“Can I sit down?”
“No.”
A fire of rebellion had her no longer cowering against the wall. Straightening her jacket, she buried her nervous hands into the pockets, realizing her cell phone was in her pocket.
Greer’s eyes raked hers as if he could read her mind. “You’ll be buying a new one,” he warned.
“Remember when you killed Talon?”
“That scrawny rooster that kept pecking you and Logan every time you tried to feed the chickens?”
“Yes. One minute, I was feeding my chickens and trying to get that one off me, and the next, you were wringing his neck. I liked that rooster.”
“You hated that rooster.” He gave her a look that said he doubted her sanity.
“I didn’t. I didn’t like him pecking me, but I was dealing with it. He didn’t deserve to die over it.”