He guided me away from the crowd and out into the cool night air.
I needed the space. I needed to breathe.
But even out there, my chest felt tight. My lungs too small. The air didn’t feel like enough.
I was so damn stupid.
15
LOGAN
That Miles guy was a real piece of work.
I still couldn’t wrap my head around what he’d done to Ellie last night. Couldn’t shake the image of his hand wrapped around her arm, fury in his eyes like she owed him something.
And I couldn’t stop thinking—what if I hadn’t been there?
What if that had happened in private instead of in front of everyone?
What would’ve happened then?
Rhodes texted me this morning that Miles nearly puked in his truck. Said the guy was completely out of it. The irony? He’d only had three drinks. Beer, no less. What grown man can’t hold his alcohol?
Pathetic.
I had the day off from the ranch, which usually meant working through my frustrations with hard labor and sunburn. But today I had nowhere to put the simmering anger that had been sitting just beneath my skin since last night.
So when Mac mentioned he needed a hand working on his truck, I jumped at the excuse. I needed something to keep myhands busy, something to focus on besides Ellie’s wide eyes and trembling hands.
I was laid out under the front end of Mac’s truck, tools in hand, trying to figure out what was wrong with the damn thing.
Mac leaned against the wheel well, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, moving away for me to climb under the truck.
“Last night got wild,” he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
With a grunt, I twisted the wrench, trying to loosen a bolt so rusted it looked like it had been there longer than I’d been alive.
“Don’t even get me started,” I muttered.
“How was Ellie when you got her home? She looked… shocked, man.”
“She was,” I said quietly. “Didn’t say a word the whole ride. I walked her upstairs, but she went straight to her bed. Door shut. That was it.”
Mac scoffed. “That fucker’s lucky Boone was in the bathroom. You know Aspen probably told him everything by now.”
My arms were aching, and the wrench finally gave. I slid out from beneath the truck, brushing gravel and debris from my jeans as I stood.
“The moment I met that guy, I got a bad feeling,” I said.
Mac raised an eyebrow, arms crossing over his chest as the cigarette bobbed between his lips.
I hadn’t told anyone about that first run-in. I guess I would now.
“He showed up on Ellie’s move-in day,” I admitted. “I was helping carry boxes. He walked up, told me I wasn’t needed, then tried to size me up. Straight up told me he just wanted to sleep with her.”
Mac pulled the cigarette from his mouth and let out a slow whistle.
“He made his intentions crystal fucking clear,” he muttered.
