Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
He and Duke are still living in the bunkhouse while renovations start on some potential housing for them on our family’s side of the ranch.
Duke shakes his head. “You’re gonna have to fight me for it.”
“I’m still here,” I say.
Ryder pulls me in for a hug. “You ready?”
“I’ve been ready for years. Let’s do this thing.”
Sawyer takes his truck to his place while the rest of us pile into one of Lucky River Ranch’s new F-350s and head to the New House. I’ve been using this truck all day, which explains why my thermos is in the cupholder and my Beretta rifle is underneath the seat.
Duke puts on *NSYNC and cranks the volume. “You’re welcome, Ryder.”
“Dude, shut up.”
“Twenty bucks says you’ll be singing the chorus by the time we get to the house.”
“That’s twenty bucks you’re gonna lose.”
Duke, being Duke, sings at the top of his lungs when the “Bye Bye Bye” chorus comes on. I join in, laughing, and lo and behold, Ryder joins in, too, all three of us smiling like the idiots we are as we drive through the autumn twilight.
Sounds stupid, but I feel like my heart grows wings. I could fly I’m so happy.
I could fly because I’m free.
No more hiding. No more running in circles, trying to stay busy so I don’t have to face my past or the fact that I let the girl I love go.
Funny how I found that freedom in commitment. That’s truth for you, I guess. No matter what your truth looks like, if you’re living it, you’re gonna feel good.
Really fucking good.
We pass the corral and the horse barn. Frowning, I turn down the music when I see that the barn’s floodlights are on. They operate on motion sensors, meaning they only come on when there’s movement nearby.
“Y’all were at the barn last, right?” I ask my brothers.
Duke glances out his window. “Left not an hour ago. No one’s supposed to be out there.”
I point at the barn. “Let’s check it out real quick.”
My brother guides the truck down the hill and into the little valley where the corral and barn sit.
My stomach somersaults when I see the barn’s side door is flung wide open. I put the truck in park and immediately reach for my rifle underneath my seat.
Meeting eyes with Duke in the passenger seat, I give him a curt nod.
We open our doors at the same time. The three of us pile out into the cold and I take the lead, raising my rifle so that it’s tucked firmly into the ball of my shoulder.
My heart is hammering. Something’s up. I feel it.
“Hello?” I shout, carefully releasing the safety so that it doesn’t make a noise. “Who’s in there?”
No answer.
“We’re comin’ in,” Ryder adds. “And we’re armed.”
We round the corner of the barn. Pressing my cheek against the butt of the rifle, I keep my stride steady as I slip through the open door.
A figure moves in the shadows, put off by the overhead lights. My finger sits on the trigger.
“Come out,” I say. “Right now.”
I nearly pass out from relief when John B emerges from the dark. I immediately put the safety back on and drop the rifle, letting out a breath. “Jesus Christ, John. Why didn’t you—”
But then he grabs the rifle out of my hands with a quickness I didn’t know he was capable of at his age. He raises it, aiming the barrel at my chest. “Just who I was lookin’ for.”
I’m so taken aback—this is so out of character for him—that it takes a full beat for my brain to unscramble the events as they happen.
First, John B puts his hand on the trigger.
Second, he closes his left eye, aiming for my heart. Did he release the safety? My heart is pounding so hard that I could’ve missed the telltale click. And the light in here is too dim to see.
Third, John says, “Tell me you didn’t break your promise.”
My heart thumps in my ears. “What?”
Duke, Sawyer, and I exchange glances. None of us has any idea what the fuck is going on. We stay put, my brothers hovering just behind my left shoulder.
Could the three of us take John out before he pulls the trigger? He’s getting on in years, but he’s still a born and bred country boy. He got his first rifle at five and has been a crack shot since six. Or so the story goes.
We’ve hunted together plenty, so I know the man only raises a gun when he means business. He ain’t gonna miss if he fires.
I squint, straining to see whether the safety is engaged or not. Still can’t tell.
“You promised me you weren’t going to keep her in Texas. You lied to my face, boy.”
What the hell?
“I didn’t lie to you,” I reply slowly. “Sally is still going to New York.”