"Of course. Mom can warm some breakfast up if you want," Jagger offers.
Jax nods. "Lead the way."
The three of them move toward the house. My anxiety builds as the opportunity to tell them dwindles.
Jagger looks over his shoulder and teases, "Are you coming, or are you gonna miss the rodeo?"
I can't go without them knowing. I'll end up wrecking myself all over again and dragging Willow down the hole with me.
I blurt out, "Stop."
They all turn, looking at me in question.
Say it. Don't be a coward.
A sound like gravel rattling around a steel drum fills the air. And I realize the noise came from me when I cleared my throat.
Mason arches a brow. "What's got your boxers in a twist?"
Jax's eyes narrow, the wrinkles around them deepening.
"Wyatt?" Jagger prods.
I swallow hard. My pulse kicks into a brutal gallop. The horses behind me seem to sense it, neighing loudly.
"I need to tell you something." The words scrape my throat raw.
Mason teases, "What is it, buttercup?"
I laugh, but it sounds awkward, making me more nervous.
Jagger's eyes harden, and his voice is sharp when he asks, "Is this about Willow?"
I shake my head, gaze fixed on the trampled dirt under my boots, then I raise my eyes to his. "No. This is about me."
A gust of wind whips across the corral, slapping my back. I almost chicken out, only getting out "Never—" before cutting myself off.
I swallow hard, clenching my jaw.
The three men wait.
My pulse pounds harder. I finally blurt out, "I've got a problem."
Jax's focus is lasered on me. "Spit it out, son."
I drag in a shaky breath. The shame is thick enough to choke me, but I reveal, "I'm a gambling addict."
Jagger laughs. "Funny."
"It's not a joke," I say seriously.
Time seems to stand still. Even the horses go silent. The only sound is the whisper of the cold wind as it blows by.
Jagger comes closer, his boots crunching on the ground. "I'm confused," he says.
I lift my head higher, meeting his stare. My gut twists like a bull's spine when he's trying to buck off a rider. "I have a gambling problem. A bad one. I've lost more money than I want to admit. There's nothing I haven't bet on. Bulls, cards, horses, sports teams I know nothing about, even stupid things like which rider would get thrown first."
Mason mutters a low curse, scrubbing a hand over his face.
