“Yeah, shit.”
“So, what’s our next move?”Micah asks.
I glance toward the window, where the neon hotel sign blinks in and out.
Outside, somewhere far from here, there’s a woman back at my ranch who kissed me like she meant it just a day ago.
I straighten, the decision already made.
“We head home,” I say.“And then we make damn sure no one ever touches Jersey Iron—or the people on it—again.”
“Speaking of which there’s something you should know about the guy you were beatin’ on, Sawyer,” Rooster says.
I nod my head, grab a burger from the takeout bag, and I join him outside the motel room.
Chapter 10-Bit
“Wow,” I breathe, leaning against the barn doorway.“This place is incredible.Like something out of a science fiction novel.”
Everything gleams—steel tables, stainless equipment, polished floors that smell faintly of bleach and hay.
The machines hum quietly, blinking with little green lights that mean important things are happening here.
Alex gave me the PG-13 version of what goes on in this barn over breakfast.
Apparently, there’s a whole science behind collecting and prepping bull semen for use.Which is great, because now I’ll never look at milk the same way again.
Can I tell you?There are some things a girl doesn’t need burned into her brain before coffee.
Still, it’s impressive.
This whole operation runs like clockwork.Sawyer’s clockwork.
“It’s nice, I guess.But the vacation is almost over,” Kristie says, crossing her arms.
It’s been like two days since the guys left, and both of us have been climbing the walls.Kristie hides it better than I do, but I can see it—every time a truck passes, she flinches.
Every time her phone buzzes, she looks like she’s bracing for bad news.
I get it.
But my worry feelsdifferent.
“I don’t know,” I say finally, shoulders lifting in a helpless shrug.
She turns to me like I just confessed to something horrible.
“You can’t be serious.We need to get back.”
I sigh because I know what she’s thinking.I know what I’m thinking, too.My track record isn’t exactly shiny—failed jobs, bad relationships, unfinished degrees.
I’ve been running so long, I forgot what it feels like to stop.
But when I look around this ranch—at the fields rolling out to the tree line, the steady rhythm of the place—I feel something I’ve never felt before.
Peace.
Purpose.
