I can hear Gary sighing on the other end. He thinks I’m throwing my career away for a woman. Maybe I am.
“I need to talk to them,” I say. “I need to talk to my pack before I make a decision that affects all of us. I can’t just abandon them, Gary. That’s not how it works.”
Gary doesn’t say anything for a minute. Then, “You have until tomorrow morning, Knox. If you don’t commit, I’m giving your spot to Gage Rivers. He’s hungry for it.”
“I know,” I say.
“Don’t do something stupid,” Gary says. “This is your career we’re talking about.”
“I know,” I repeat.
He hangs up.
I lower the phone. The screen goes black. I stare at it, my reflection staring back at me.
Three hundred thousand dollars.
I turn around, leaning my back against the siding.
And I freeze.
Saramaria is standing a few feet away.
She is holding the door open with her shoulder, a glass of wine in her hand. The light from inside spills out, illuminating her profile.
She heard me. She heard me say it. She heard me call them my pack.
“I was just coming out for some air,” she says. Her voice is soft and barely audible over the music inside.
“Yeah,” I say. “Same.”
I shove my phone into my pocket. I feel guilty, though I don’t know why. I was offered a lifeline. A chance to save myself. But looking at her, I feel like I was caught cheating.
“Is it true?” she asks. She takes a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving mine. “Are you leaving?”
I walk over to her. The night air is cool, but the space between us feels charged.
“It’s complicated,” I say.
She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “It always is with you guys. Everything is complicated. Nothing is ever just ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”
“It’s a job offer,” I explain. “A circuit down South. Good money. It would solve a lot of problems.”
“Problems,” she repeats. “Like me? Like the ranch?”
“Like the debt,” I say. “The fines.”
She nods slowly. She looks down at her boots. “Well. You should take it then.”
I stare at her. “What?”
“You should take the job,” she says, looking up. Her eyes are bright, too bright. “You’re a rider, Knox. That’s who you are. You don’t belong here fixing fences and arguing with me. You belong on the back of a bull. If this circuit offers you what you need, you should go.”
I look at her. I see the wall she’s putting up. I see the way she’s pushing me away, trying to make it easy for me to leave.
“You don’t get to tell me where I belong,” I say, my voice rising.
“I’m not telling you,” she says. “I’m just saying... you don’t have to explain things to me. You don’t owe me an explanation. If you want to leave, just leave.”
