Again.
I shove out the door, the spring night cool against my face. Footsteps scrape behind me, and I turn to see Kaz.
I shake my head, silently telling him to fuck off.
“Go easy on her.”
“Kaz—”
“You don’t go easy on her, you’re gonna regret it,” he speaks over me, his voice solid as a gun barrel.
I exhale sharp, eyes flicking up at the stars. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means you need to pull your head outta your ass.” Kaz tucks his hands in his pockets, but his eyes don’t waver. He’s serious as a snakebite.
That rattles me. Because there are a hundred rumors about Kaz—about who he really is, where all his money comes from.
On paper, he’s just a dealmaker who bought up ten thousand acres, shut down the cattle operation, and turned it into a playground for rich men to play cowboy. But I’ve known him since we were teenagers. Not well, but enough to know he didn’t leave here and come back flush with money for no damn simple reason.
And despite not being a rancher, he’s got his fingers in half of Wildflower Canyon.
“What do you know?” I demand.
He shakes his head solemnly. “Nothin’ I can share.”
“Then why the fuck are you talkin’ to me?”
He smirks. “Because a man who keeps chasin’ down a woman he claims to hate…maybe doesn’t.”
“Christ.” I drag a hand through my hair. “You talk in riddles, man.”
“Let me ask you somethin’, Cade. You ever think maybe she wasn’t lyin’?”
My breath locks, and it’s got nothin’ to do with the cold night air. “What’s that?”
“What if she was tellin’ the truth?”
“About what?”
A flicker of impatience crosses his face. “You know damn well what. Don’t play dumb.” He tips his hat. “Gotta get Bree home. You drive safe.”
And with that, he leaves me stewing in my own thoughts.
My phone pings. It’s Dodge asking me if I want a ride—probably thinks I’ve lost my mind.
Folks say I’m a good man. Polite. A solid father. Somebody who shows up when his neighbors need him.
But none of that feels true tonight. Hell, it hasn’t since she came back.Because ever since Sarah Kirk set foot in this town, I’ve been a man split in two—hungry to see her, desperate to erase her, and so damn tired of how much it still hurts.
I text Dodge that I’m going home, that I’m fine, and that he should stay and enjoy his evening.
I get into my truck and stare at the flickering neon sign that reads: The Rusty Spur.
What the fuck did Kaz mean by asking me if she wasn’t lying? Of course, she was. Right? Because anything else is unthinkable.
content warning
The following chapter contains a discussion of rape and sexual assault and its aftermath. Please read with care. If this is a trigger for you, skip this chapter or the book in its entirety.
