Guns & Smoke by Lauren Sevier & A. Smith

Author:Lauren Sevier & A. Smith [Sevier, Lauren & Smith, A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: western, Dystopian, desert, Romance, new adult
Publisher: Lauren Sevier
Published: 2021-07-09T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen - Bonnie

I couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t just the absence of Jesse’s warmth, it was the haunted expression in his eyes when he’d left. I knew the echo of that pain. I didn’t follow him, because I knew better than most that sometimes the only way through was by drowning it.

The night wore on, and the sounds of the rowdy bar below reminded me of my childhood. Long nights in places like this, searching the crowds for Jones’s next mark. It was just as comforting as it was unsettling without Jesse’s body next to me, a reminder that I wasn’t alone anymore. It was nearly daylight, and Jesse hadn’t returned; a pit in my stomach yawned open, and I bit my nails down to the quick.

Then I heard him.

A high-pitched giggle, then Jesse’s deep canyon timbre moaning in the hallway. No, it couldn’t be. I slipped out from beneath the quilt on the hard mattress and padded on bare feet to the door. Cracking it open, I peered out to watch as Jesse fisted his fingers in the hair of a blonde whore kneeling before him.

As quietly as I could, I shut the door again, my stomach dropping to my feet. Jealousy and anger swirled inside of me, threatening to unravel me completely. I bit my bottom lip hard as I stared at the bed. The one I’d assumed I would be sharing with Jesse tonight. I ran my hands through my hair in panic. Think, Bonnie, think!

The door clicked open behind me, and Jesse stumbled in, obviously drunk and buckling his belt. I froze, my entire body strung tight. Sucking in a sharp breath, I attempted to calm my obviously stricken features. Either Jesse was too drunk to comment on my expression or he didn’t care enough about the hurt and jealousy raging within me. He only met my eye for a moment before crossing with heavy steps to the bed we were supposed to share.

“Come to bed,” he said, his voice slurred at the edges. My stomach roiled at the thought of lying next to him after what I’d seen. My thoughts fractured, justifying and vilifying his behavior all at once. Still, being cradled in his arms like something precious to him would undoubtedly break me.

“I think I’d rather get ready to leave,” I said quietly. He contemplated the quilt on the bed, seeming to pay no attention to me. I crammed my feet haphazardly into my shoes as I prepared to flee.

He wasn’t trying to stop me. Didn’t even spare a glance in my direction. He slumped onto the bed, struggling to shove his boots off before lying down as I shuffled into my jeans and fled the room like my life depended on it.

Once I was in the hallway, alone, I slumped bodily against the wall he’d been moaning on moments before. The shock receded from my mind, and all that was left was an emptiness I hadn’t expected. I stumbled downstairs to the bar and sat heavily, but waved the bartender away when he offered me a whiskey.

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