The rain is still coming down hard as I go back and forth in my mind about what I should do. My stomach is in knots, but I know one thing about myself. I ran from here, then I ran from Chicago. At some point, I have to stop running. At some point, I have to be a goddamn adult and face the fact that these boys stepped up and were the men of their families when no one else was. It would be so easy to let Truett continue to take the burden of everything, but it’s not fair.
And to know exactly what’s been going on? I have to ask.
Truett won’t tell me, but I know Jesse. If I push him hard enough, he’ll tell me everything.
Mind made up, I get dressed, throw on a raincoat, and rush down the stairs. Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m outside, in Truett’s truck, and heading toward Jesse’s house.
“Aubree, you better hope you don’t regret this,” I tell myself as I slow down to pull onto the gravel road that leads to Dark Skies Ranch.
I haven’t been here in years, and since it’s so late at night, there’s no way for me to see much. I’m not entirely worried about it right now, either. All I want to do is talk to Jesse. As soon as I park, I open the door and hop down. That’s when I’m pressed against the driver’s door.
My heart hammers against my ribs as Jesse’s body cages me against the cold metal of the truck door. The rain pounds down on us, soaking through my coat within seconds, but all I can focus on is the heat radiating from his chest pressed against mine. His green eyes are wild in the darkness, reflecting the distant porch light like a predator caught in headlights.
“Jesse.” My voice comes out breathier than I intended. “I need to talk to you.”
“At midnight? In a goddamn thunderstorm?” His hands are braced on either side of my head, his face inches from mine. Water drips from his dark hair onto my cheek. “You’re gonna catch pneumonia out here.”
“I don’t care.” I push against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. “I know you and Truett are hiding something from me. Noah said?—”
“Noah doesn’t know shit.” The words come out sharp, dangerous. Jesse’s jaw ticks under his beard. “Whatever he told you, forget it.”
“So there is something to forget now?” I arch an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way his proximity makes my skin tingle. “Just tell me the truth, Jesse. I’m not a child anymore.”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “No, you’re not. But you’re still naïve as hell if you think you can handle the truth.”
Rain streams down my face, mixing with the tears of frustration I refuse to let fall. “Try me.”
“Why?” He leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. “So you can run again? Like you did before?”
The accusation hits like a slap. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” His voice drops to a growl. “You disappeared for years, Bree. Fucking years without a word to me. And now you waltz back here expecting us to trust you with our business?”
“I was eighteen!” The words tear from my throat. “After I kissed you, I was scared. I didn’t know what the hell was expected of me. It’s not like any of you wanted to help me.”
“And we would’ve helped you.” His forehead drops to rest against mine. “We would’ve done anything for you. But you didn’t give us the chance.”
The pain in his voice breaks something inside me. “I’m here now.”
“Are you? Or are you just biding your time until you find another reason to bolt?”
“Stop.” I grip the front of his soaked T-shirt. “Stop making me the villain. I came back because this is my home. Because you and Truett are my family, whether you want to admit it or not.”
Something shifts in his expression, the hardness cracking just enough to let vulnerability slip through. “Bree…”
“Just tell me what’s going on. Please.” I search his eyes. “I can’t stand being lied to anymore. I’ve had enough lies to last a lifetime.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, the only sounds the rain pounding against the truck and the distant rumble of thunder.When he speaks, his voice is raw. “You want the truth? Fine. Truett and I have been rustling cattle.”
The admission hits me like ice water. “What?”
“I’m not proud of it. Most of the time, it’s not from innocent ranchers,” he says quickly. “From the bastards who’ve been squeezing out the small operations. The ones who think they can buy up everything and push families off land that’s been theirs for generations.” He licks at the rain on his upper lip. “Or from the small operations that have men who like to lay hands on their wives. We teach a lesson.”
My mind reels. “Jesse, that’s…”
“Illegal? Yeah, I know.” His laugh is bitter. “But it’s the only way to keep your ranch afloat. The only way to make sure Truett doesn’t lose everything your family built.”
“There has to be another way.”
