Sheriff Cooper hauled my father to his feet. "Come on, Art. Let's go sleep it off in a cell."
As they dragged him out, my father got one last shot in: "You think you saved him? You destroyed him anyway! Look at him! Fourteen years and he's still pining after trash!"
Wyatt's fist clenched, but Liam put a hand on his shoulder. "He's not worth it, brother."
After they left, the diner remained frozen. Everyone had witnessed my shame, my secret, my reason for running. The truth I'd hidden for fourteen years was now public knowledge.
Wyatt stood there staring at me as if he'd never seen me before. Like everything he'd believed for fourteen years had just shattered.
"You left to protect me," he said, not a question but a revelation.
"I left because I was eighteen and stupid and thought it was the only way." I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the Texas heat. "I left because I couldn't bear to see you in prison for killing him, or dead because he killed you, or watching your family's reputation destroyed because you'd gotten tangled up with the town drunk's daughter."
His expression hardened. “That wasn't your decision to make."
“Maybe not," I agreed quietly. "But it was the only one I could live with."
Wyatt stared at me for another heartbeat, chest heaving, eyes shattered. Then he turned and walked out wordlessly. The bell above the diner door jingled once and went still, leaving only the echo of his boots fading into the rain.
I just stood there, frozen in the wreckage—blood on the floor, whispers circling like flies. My lungs refused to work. The air felt too thick, too heavy to pull in.
“Dottie, I—” My voice cracked. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean?—”
“Don’t you start apologizing, honey.” Dottie’s voice cut through the silence, firm as barbed wire, gentle as a hand on your back. She came around the counter, her eyes fierce with something that looked a lot like love. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong.”
When she reached me, she didn’t hesitate—just pulled me right in, arms strong and sure. For a second, I went stiff, but then I let go. My chin hit her shoulder, and the tears came fast, hot, unstoppable. She smelled like coffee and vanilla and home.
“There now,” she murmured, rubbing small circles on my back. “Let it out, sweetheart. You’ve been holdin’ all that in way too long.”
I shook my head against her shoulder, still trying to form words through the sobs. “Everyone saw. I just—God, Dottie, I didn’t want?—”
She pulled back, holding me by the arms, eyes shining but steady. “What everyone saw was a man showin’ the world what kind of bastard he is. That’s on him, not you.”
Movement caught my eye—Liam, standing near the door, hat in hand, face tight with restrained fury. He’d been there the whole time, silent as a shadow.
“Take her home, darlin’,” Dottie said softly, looking at him over my shoulder. “Get her somewhere she can breathe.”
Liam nodded once. No hesitation.
He stepped forward, his voice low and calm. “Come on, Ivy.”
I wanted to argue, to tell them I was fine, but my knees were shaking, my throat raw, and my chest felt like it was caving in. So I just nodded.
Liam slipped an arm around me, steady as bedrock, and steered me toward the door. The bell jingled again as we stepped out into the rain, the diner light spilling across the wet pavement behind us.
I didn’t look back.
Chapter 15
Wyatt
The ranch was too damn quiet when I got back from town.
That kind of quiet that didn’t feel peaceful—it felthollow. Like the land itself was holding its breath.
Word traveled fast in Copper Creek—faster when it involved blood on Dottie’s floor and a Blackwood throwing punches. Faster still when it came with a truth big enough to tear the past in half.
I killed the engine and just stood there beside my truck, hands braced on the door, breathing hard. My knuckles were split wide open, skin torn and swelling, blood crusting over in jagged streaks. The sting of it should’ve felt good—like punishment, like penance—but it didn’t touch the ache in my chest.
