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I drain the last drop of my whiskey, letting it warm my blood. “I’m gonna head out.” I don’t want to argue anymore. Delilah’s already taken up too many of my thoughts.

“We’re doin’ bottle and bonfire tomorrow.” Ezra directs his gaze toward me. “Want to join?”

A question he’s been asking the last six months. A night I’ve been avoiding.

Once a month, our family gets together to cash a bottle of whiskey while we bullshit about our lives over a bonfire. A tradition our mother started. Cowboys and bonfires, she always said. They need each other. They purge each other.

“We’ll see.” I set my glass down on the table behind me.

Wells frowns. “You always say that.”

My gut sinks, and I immediately feel like an asshole. It’s a talent of mine. Avoiding my family. Guilt, grief won’t let me. Like if I get too close, I’ll lose someone again.

I’m not good at telling my brothers how I feel. That they matter to me, that I’m sorry for staying away all those years and chasing the rodeo instead of dealing with the loss of Jack and our parents.

I don’t deserve them. Not with being gone as long as I have.

Ezra doesn’t like my answer, but he says nothing, only nods.

My stomach hardens with regret. As I head for the open garage door, River follows. “Cole.”

I stop. His tone is edged.

“Heard from Syd. He wants to do another run.”

I exhale, tension immediately tightening my shoulders. “When?”

“Soon. I’ll set up a meeting.”

I glare. “I’ll set it up. You don’t need to be around guns, River.”

River’s voice burns with bitterness. “Yeah, well, there’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have done in my life, but here we are.”

River’s a moody son of a bitch, but I know where his mind’s gone.

April.

Always April.

My lovesick brother’s never gotten over the disappearance of his high school sweetheart. One night, after graduation, she was just gone. Tempest police claimed she was a runaway, but River never bought it.

Soon after, River went off the rails. He became a different person. Drugs. Alcohol. Gave up his art. He lost his mind wondering what happened to April.

Years later, desperate, River broke into the police station for April’s file. A scuffle broke out. A cop was shot. Tempest PD claimed River was the shooter. It was bullshit. He never had a gun on him.

He went away for seven years for a crime he didn’t commit. Everyone in town believed he was April’s killer. Even now, three years out, some folks still accuse him of having something to do with her disappearance.

It was a setup. Prison was an excuse for the Hales to get to us. To hurt him.

“Listen to me,” I growl. “You stay away.” I stare at the blackbird tattoo on his forearm. He gives himself a tattoo for April every year on her birthday.

River rolls his eyes. “You’re a miserable fuck, you know that.”

“You’re one to talk. You live on a mountain.”

We share a chuckle, then I give him a nod and clap his shoulder. “Till tomorrow, little brother.”

I’m halfway out the door when he sends it back to me. “Till tomorrow.”