Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
“Don’t worry about him,” she snapped when I asked if he was sick or something. “He doesn’t work here anymore.”
Worse, she wouldn’t tell me why. I can’t imagine what he could have done to make her face go so red, so fast. It didn’t matter that he had been co-manager of the ranch for longer than I’d been alive. It didn’t matter that she’d trusted him for so long.
And it sure as hell didn’t matter that he was the closest thing to a father figure I had. Not that Mom knew that. She would’ve laughed if I told her about the bond I shared with him after years of conversations around the ranch. He always knows the right thing to say to cheer me up.
Now he’s gone, too.
One by one, I’m losing people. And one by one, new assholes are showing up to fill the empty spots. People I don’t know or trust. My best friend is newly married to a monster, who probably won’t let me get near her.
I’m engaged to a stranger, and if I don’t marry him, we lose the ranch. Putting every one of our employees’ fates in my hands. It’s on me. Never her.
Through it all, I miss Kade. I know I shouldn’t. Not after he terrified me into believing the man I fell in love with was gone.
Some dark part of me knows he did it all to protect me before I asked the wrong question and found myself in a shallow grave. But did that require him to practically fuck me with a loaded gun? How should I feel about that? I’m torn because he represents the last time my life made any sense. When I had Saint and Buck and a future to look forward to. My whole life was ahead of me, and I had a whole world to discover.
None of that matters now. They’ll probably want me to start popping out babies as soon as the ink on the marriage certificate dries. Will I get any say in that process either? Doubtful.
As we make the turn through the iron gates leading up to the house, it hits me: this is my life now. My future. Pretending I’m okay. Sacrificing everything for others. And wondering how my whole world turned upside down without me realizing it.
Chapter 7
Kade
The headlights are a blur in my face, making me squint as I drive. I have no idea where I’m going. I just know I can’t be walled in tonight, not after spending more than twenty-four hours sitting around waiting for the FBI to decide what to do with me.
That was a special kind of torture that makes my guts churn, even now, after I went home and collapsed in bed and slept for another twelve like the dead.
Dead, like Roman Bishop. Dear ole Dad.
Anxiety rises in me, making my heartbeat pick up speed and my palms go slick against the wheel. All it takes is thinking his name, and I spiral all over.
At least they released me. I couldn’t believe it when they said I was free to leave. I mean, they saw the dining room, right? They saw Roman dead on the floor, and it’s not like I tried to lie about what happened. It never occurred to me that I might make up a story about a fight for the gun or anything like that until way after they brought me in. I was ready to face the aftermath. I’ve gotten away with murder before, fuck knows.
This time, it wasn’t because Dad was involved in covering it up.
“From what you’ve told us, it was a matter of defense.” It took a while, but I finally got around to giving them details. It turns out my brothers did, too, and I guess everyone agrees that I did what had to be done to save more lives than the one I ended. “Your father had too much to drink. He struck Mrs. Bishop and threatened to fire on your sister-in-law. You did what anyone would do to protect their family.”
I did. Not that any of us told the whole story. Not even close.
My jaw tightens, and I press my foot harder on the gas pedal until the world blurs. He deserved it, the son of a bitch. All three shots. For what happened that night and for so much more. Part of me wishes it wasn’t over so quickly. Yet I feel like I’m running away from the devil as I race through the night.
Because no matter the truth, nothing feels right.
I killed my father.
My own fucking father.
I turn into the parking lot of The Rusty Nail. I guess I was always headed here. Instinct guides my truck while my brain spirals. I need a drink. No. I need to drown myself in alcohol. Death clings to every piece of me, and I can’t shake free. So I’ll have to kill it, bury it, make the noise inside my head disappear.