“Seems that everyone are fucking liars,” he joked taking the photograph, handing it to Gunner who had his hand held out. “You are Dad’s kid, Wild, sorry to tell you. And as for Mom cheating on him, do not believe that man.She was loyal and honest. She was a good person. If she did do what he said then, I’m not condoning her actions, but let’s be honest, he probably deserved it.”
It's weird what brings relief. The things that were important to me weren’t a bucket of lies. Being Michael Miller’s son wasn’t the truth that brought that release. It was knowing my mom was exactly who I’d been told she was. Then a different kind of poison pierced my heart.
“You think I'm like him,” I said quietly, looking at the photo. “You think I run when things get hard? Hurt people I care about?”
Nash's head snapped up. “What? No. Wild?—”
Gunner butted in, “Bullshit.”
“I keep people at arm's length. I don't do serious relationships. I make jokes when things get heavy.” The words tumbled out like a confession. “ Maybe I am his son in all the wrong ways.”
Gunner slammed his hand on the table. “Stop. Right there.” He pointed at me. “You want to know the difference between you and him? When Tally's ex showed up and grabbed her, what did you do?”
“I punched him.”
“You protected her. When Bertie was crying about that kid at school, who spent two hours teaching her how to deal with bullies?”
“That's different?—”
“When Mom died, who made sure that Gun and I didn't drown in grief?” Nash's voice was rough. “You were six years old, and you carried us through the worst thing that ever happened to our family.” The kitchen went quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator. “You don't run from love, Wild,” Nash continued. “You run toward it. Every damn time. That's who you are.”
The words of denial were heavy on my tongue, but I chose not to set them free.
“Can we forget about that piece of shit now?” Gunner slammed a hand on the table and pushed out of his chair. “Because I have dinner to finish.”
“Go complete your masterpiece, cowboy.” Cassidy’s voice was soft as she gazed up at him.
When Nash leaned in to kiss Lily’s temple, his words echoed, bouncing around in my head like a pinball hitting every nerve. Was I running towardthis thing with Tally? Was it love? The word felt too big, too dangerous to even think fully. But I couldn't deny what my brothers had seen. What they'd called out. The way I'd thrown that punch for her. The things they didn’t see, the way I checked the time, counting hours until I could see her again. The way her laugh had become the soundtrack I didn't know I needed.
My phone buzzed. Another text from her:
Tally
Hope you're okay. Here if you need anything.
My chest squeezed. When did someone caring about me start to feel like oxygen? When had her thinking of me become the thing that kept me upright? Maybe my brothers were right. Maybe I didn't run from love—maybe I just didn't know what it looked like when it wasn't conditional. When it wasn't something I had to earn by being the funny one, the easy one, the one who never asked for too much. With Tally, I didn't have to perform. I could just... be. The thought scared the hell out of me. And for the first time in my life, that felt like exactly the right reason to move forward with something instead of away from it. I just wasn’t sure I was brave enough yet.
Chapter 21
Cold – Maroon 5
Tally
The scent of hay and horses clung to the morning air as I led Maverick back to the stables, my muscles aching in that satisfying way they always did after a good session. Dust floated in sunbeams that sliced through the windows, and the hollow sound of hooves on concrete echoed beneath each of our steps. Gunner was buried in camp prep, which meant the horse training was all mine, and I loved it that way. This was my rhythm, my peace. The only part of life lately that made sense. My passion.
In the two days since he’d visited the prison, Wilder had been a littledistant. The closeness we’d felt thatI’dfelt with him, had drained away like water through a cracked bucket. In its place, only silence. Grunted greetings, vanishing acts.
And it hurt.
My heart felt like it had been thrown around my rib cage, bruised with every beat.
He had a lot to deal with, his work, his dad, but I thought we’d reached a different place. One where he talked to me. He had talked to me.
“Being here feels like something I haven’t felt in a long time… peaceful.”
I’d given him that. I’d been that. And now he was avoiding me. Shutting me out like I was noise.
“Hey, Tally.”
