“Probably.”
Wayne leans forward on the bar.
“You know I called Mason myself, right?”
That makes me pause.
“What?”
“When those idiots started sniffing around town,” Wayne says, “I called Mason. Told him I had men poking around my bar that I didn’t trust.”
I didn’t know that.
Wayne shrugs.
“I trust the Reapers. They’ve kept this town quiet a long time.”
He pauses before adding quietly,
“That Ghost of theirs… he’s the kind of man you send when you want something handled.”
My chest tightens.
“Yeah.”
The rest of the night passes in a blur of music, laughter, and the steady rhythm of bartending, but every time the door opens my head turns before I can stop it.
Just in case.
And later, while I’m wiping down the bar after the crowd thins out, my mind drifts somewhere it shouldn’t.
Back to the farm.
To quiet mornings with the animals already stirring before the sun came up, and Cole leaning against the barn doorway watching me argue with Kevin the goat like it was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all week.
For the first time in years my house didn’t feel empty.
Now the silence waiting there tonight feels louder than the rooster ever did.
When I finally pull intothe driveway hours later, the farmhouse sits dark and still under the night sky. No porch light. No tall biker leaning against the railing.
Just quiet. I unlock the door and step inside, the familiar sounds of the animals shifting around the house greeting me, but the place still feels different. Bigger. Colder.
And standing there in the middle of my kitchen, staring at the empty space where Cole used to lean against the counter with his arms folded, I finally let myself admit the one thing I’ve been trying not to think about all night. Pushing him away might have been a mistake.
I sigh and push myself off the door, dragging my bag to the kitchen counter before wandering into the living room and dropping onto the couch like my legs have suddenly decided they’re done holding me up for the night. The cushions sink under my weight, familiar and worn, and I lean back against the armrest, staring up at the ceiling for a moment while the quiet wraps around me.
I don’t even make it ten seconds before I hear the first set of nails clicking across the floor.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, turning my head toward the hallway. “I know.”
Daisy appears first, tail wagging so hard her whole back end wiggles when she spots me. Moose barrels in right behind her like a furry freight train, skidding slightly on the hardwoodbefore correcting his course and launching himself halfway onto the couch beside me.
“Whoa…hey!” I laugh, shoving at his shoulder as he tries to climb fully into my lap. “You weigh more than I do, you giant goof.”
Moose ignores that entirely, dropping his big head onto my thigh like he’s been doing it his entire life. Daisy hops up on the other side of me a second later, curling against my hip while her tail thumps softly against the couch cushion.
A smaller set of paws joins the pile next.
