I look up into his eyes. "It was an accident, Dad. An accident."
"I know. I saw it happen. I heard the yelling and I came out front." He grips my upper arms, a dull pain barely registering as he pulls me to standing. "Go to the homestead. Get inside and don't come out."
"What are you going to do?"
"Take care of it."
It.
It.
It.
Her.
"Dad—"
"Go."
I back away. Brutus is nowhere to be found. I'll never look for him, either. I hope he keeps running and stays gone.
I do what my dad says. I go into my house. I walk into the bedroom I share with my wife. I take off every article of clothing and force myself to meet my own eyes in the mirror.
Then, as hard as I can, I punch myself in the chest. Twice.
1
Jessie
“I figure if a girl wants to be a legend, she should go ahead and be one.”
— Calamity Jane
Present Day
It smells like wood.Rich mahogany. Deep and spicy.
The dean of Arizona State University is late for our meeting. A meeting he called me to, mind you, not one I sought out and certainly not one I willingly agreed to attend. Lack of choice is why I'm here, sitting in this tufted leather seat in front of the gleaming desk, waiting on someone I'd rather not meet face-to-face.
My stomach sank when his assistant, Rosemary, called my cell phone. My first mistake was answering. I should've let it go to voice mail. My second mistake was telling her I was available to meet the dean. I should've said I was back home at the Hayden Cattle Company, bad reception out there on the ranch,crackle crackle, I think I'm losing you.
But if I dare to be honest with myself, the real mistake occurred when I did the thing I'm assuming I've been called here for. What I'd really like to know is who told on me? The number one rule of my operation is that nobody is allowed to talk about it. I guess I can't trust anybody in the age of cell phones and instant gratification. Assholes.
The door behind me opens. I sit, my back ramrod straight, and wait for the dean to approach. In my peripheral vision, I see his charcoal-gray slacks, his matching jacket. He rounds his desk and pulls out his chair. His hair is thinning on top, and he has a large mole that matches his skin tone at his hairline beside his ear.
The creaking protest as he settles in his seat is the only sound in the room. He folds his arms in front of himself and leans back. More protests from the chair. "You've been busy, Miss Hayden."
I smile. "My studies keep me very busy."
His lip tugs with a smirk he manages to control. "Right. And your extracurriculars? Do they keep you busy as well?"
"Maintaining a 3.9 GPA makes it nearly impossible for me to have extracurriculars." This little game is…well, to be perfectly honest, it's fun. "Perhaps next year I won't take so many demanding classes."
He nods slowly. "Are you aware it's against university policy to gamble on campus?"
I do my best not to react. I knew this was coming. "I'm not sure what you mean?"
"Miss Hayden, we know you've been operating a weekly poker game from your dorm room."
