“You’re fired,” Pete finally spat at Larry. “All of you are fired. And you,” he turned to me, his eyes wild with hatred, “you’re going back to prison where you belong.”
“On what grounds?” Pastor John demanded, stepping forward again. “Assault? Because we all just witnessed you throw the first punch.”
“He violated the terms of his parole,” Pete snarled. “Fraternizing with my son.”
“There’s nothing in my parole conditions about who I can or can’t talk to,” I said, keeping my voice level despite the fear gnawing at my insides. “And you don’t have any proof of anything else.”
“I don’t need proof,” Pete laughed, the sound ugly and desperate. “One call to your parole officer about suspicious behavior, and you’ll be back inside before you can blink. They don’t need much of a reason with guys like you.”
He was right, and we both knew it. The system wasn’t designed to give people like me the benefit of the doubt. One accusation from a respected rancher like Pete McGrath would be enough to at least get me detained while they investigated.
“That’s not how this is going to go, Pete,” Evelyn said, her voice unyielding as she stepped between him and Larry. “You just assaulted a man, your friend I might add, in front of fifty people. And made threats to send Connor back to prison without cause.” He stepped closer to him, daring him to raise a hand toward her as she poked in him the chest. “Fifty people just witnessed your stupidity. That’s fifty people that will testify in court that you’re a good-for-nothing piece of shit.” She jabbed him one last time. “And thenyou’llgo to prison instead.”
Pete’s face turned an even deeper shade of crimson as he stared down at Evelyn’s finger jabbing into his chest. His nostrils flared with each heavy breath, and for a moment, I thought he might hit her too.
“You threatening me, Evelyn?” he growled, his words slurring slightly.
“It’s not a threat,” she replied, her voice steady despite being half his size. “It’s a promise.”
I stood frozen, watching this woman who couldn’t be more than five foot two stare down a man who’d spent his life intimidating everyone around him. The church remained deathly silent, everyone holding their breath to see what would happen next.
Pete’s eyes darted around the room, seeming to finally register just how many witnesses were present. His shoulders sagged slightly, but the rage in his eyes didn’t diminish.
“This ain’t over,” he muttered, jabbing a finger toward me. “Not by a long shot.” He turned to Ryder, who stood rigid beside me. “And you. Don’t bother coming home for your things. I’ll have them burned by morning. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“Pete!” Evelyn gasped.
“Dad, please—” Ryder started, but Pete was already shoving past us toward the door.
“The rest of you convicts,” he called over his shoulder to the other guys from the ranch who had been watching wide-eyed from the corner, “If you’re so much as a fuckingminutelate to work in the morning, you can kiss your freedom goodbye.”
The door slammed behind him with enough force to rattle the windows. For a long moment, nobody moved or spoke. Then Larry winced, touching his rapidly swelling jaw.
“Well,” he said dryly, “I guess I need to update my resume.”
A nervous laugh rippled through the crowd, breaking some of the tension. People began to murmur among themselves, and I could feel their stares burning into my back. Pastor John clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Alright, folks. Let’s give these men some space. Mrs. Thompson, I believe you were telling me about your grandchildren’s visit next week?”
It was a transparent attempt to distract the congregation, but I was grateful for it, nonetheless. As people reluctantly returned to their conversations, Pastor John turned to us.
“Larry, let’s get some ice on that jaw. The rest of you should head home for the night.”
I glanced at Ryder, who looked shell-shocked. His face was pale, his eyes wide and unfocused. I wanted to reach for him, to comfort him, but I knew that would only make things worse. What little hope he ever had of inheriting the ranch was now gone for good. And it was my fault, because I couldn’t say no to him.
I’d been a fucking fool.
“Ryder, I—” I started to reach for him, then stopped myself. We were still standing in the middle of the church hall with dozens of eyes watching our every move.
“Don’t,” Ryder said, his voice hollow. “Just... don’t.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. I took a step back, letting my hand fall to my side.
“You should go with the others,” Evelyn said gently, gesturing toward Joey and the rest of the guys who were already heading for the door. “Pete might come back, and it’s better if you’re not here when he does.”
I nodded, knowing she was right. Pete was volatile enough when sober. Drunk and humiliated, there was no telling what he might do. But I couldn’t just leave Ryder like this.
“What about?—”
