Fall With Me (Sugarland Creek, #3) (4)

Rhett and I sit next to him as his whole body trembles.

“Deep breaths,” I try to comfort him.

Knowing there’s nothing I can do to take away his pain has my mind spiraling. Or maybe it’s a panic attack. My heart’s racing so hard, I swear it’s going to jump right out of my chest at this rate.

Either way, our lives are never going to be the same.





Talia was confirmed dead nearly two hours after Angela pushed her off the cliff.

Her funeral was nine days later where hundreds of people showed up to pay the family their respects and to say goodbye to one of the nicest girls I knew.

Talia would’ve turned eighteen two days after her parents said goodbye to her for the last time.

The following day, Angela was arrested.

After we gave our statements and it was confirmed that Talia’s cause of death was drowning, the sheriff got the judge to put out a warrant for Angela and to make her stand trial for homicide.

When she finally got her day in court, the six of us testified on what we observed that day and acted as character witnesses for both Angela and Talia. I made sure it was known how Angela was as a girlfriend and how she treated her “friends.” My testimony proved that her pushing Talia wasn’t out of character, especially considering we told her to leave Talia alone and she didn’t.

Her attorney tried to paint us as irresponsible young kids and unreliable witnesses, but the jury believed us and the evidence over Angela’s story that Talia asked her to do it. Hearing how she feared heights and wasn’t a good swimmer, they didn’t believe she’d ask to be pushed off.

I was willing to do whatever it took to get justice not only for Talia and her family but for my best friend. Tucker lost everything that day, too.

He’d hoped to get married and build a future with her after med school. Then they’d have some kids and grow roots wherever his career took him. He wanted nothing more than to have Talia by his side and together they’d be happy forever.

But Tucker didn’t get any of that. He was so grief-stricken and filled with guilt for not standing up to Angela and getting Talia out of that situation. He couldn’t focus in his college classes and flunked out before the end of his freshmen year.

One year after Angela was charged with voluntary manslaughter and fifteen years in prison, our lives were rocked once again when Tucker took his own life and a part of mine when he did.

I should’ve seen the signs. Looking back, I knew he was struggling and had hoped with time he’d get better. I encouraged him to see a grief counselor and he promised he would.

The week leading up to his death, he was the happiest I’d ever heard him. We talked every day and made plans to make a trip up to Willow Branch Mountain again. He had some of Talia’s ashes and wanted to spread them there. I was relieved and couldn’t wait to see my best friend again.

Except the next time I did was when he was in a casket.

Two people died because of Angela’s reckless actions, and although Talia’s family also won punitive damages in a wrongful death civil suit, Angela didn’t get nearly as long as she deserved. She should rot for the rest of her sad, lonely life.

When she’s eligible for parole in eleven years, I’ll do everything in my power to keep her behind bars for as long as possible.





Chapter One


ELLIE





SEVEN YEARS LATER


Stay focused.

Eyes on the prize, Ellie.

And that prize is winning first place.

I inhale the humid summer air mixed with dirt and leather. The smell combination is one I’m used to and brings a warmth of memories to the surface each time.

There’s nothing better than being at a rodeo. It feels like home.

The crowd cheers for Marcia Grayson, who just ran the barrels at probably the fastest speed I’ve ever seen her race, but when her time is announced, I smile to myself.

It’s good enough for first place but not enough to beat me.

I started barrel racing when I was thirteen. It’s all I’ve focused on for the past six years.

Between attending clinics and consistently training, I’ve established a good technique for what works for us. Although I’m not always on my A game, I’m competitive and arrogant enough to believe I’ll win regardless.

It’s nearly dark out, so the arena is beaming with bright stadium lights. Although the sun’s gone down, sweat drips down my back as the nerves take over. This rodeo is at a county fair an hour outside of my hometown, and although it’s a non-pro event, I’m still just as driven to win. Any prize money I win goes toward Ranger’s lifetime earnings and with it being close to home, it wasn’t a big deal to make the trip. Since the riders are a mix of non-pro and pro barrel racers, I get to run against men and women I don’t usually compete against.

The race time ranges depend on how big the arena is and how fast the riders are. Tonight, they’ve been between sixteen and seventeen seconds. Well, not including the couple of riders who knocked down barrels and got five-second penalties added on.

The time to beat is Marcia’s at sixteen point one one two seconds.

As I sit on Ranger, he whines and stomps in place, waiting for our turn. He’s as eager as I am to get in there.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Ranger’s more competitive than me.