“In the city with her dad,” I finally say. It’s a safe answer, and it’s true. I don’t know where else we’re at. I lasted all of a day before I was messaging her. Apologizing.
But fuck me, it’s not even close to enough. I was so upset, so worried, in so much pain—but there’s no excuse for what I said. Especially considering how far from the truth it is.
As the frustration burning in my gut cooled, it transformed into a heavy boulder. Making me feel sick. Nauseous. Dizzy.
I’ve never felt sick over a girl. I’ve never made a bigger mistake.
And she still hasn’t responded.
Cade bursts through the back door, stalking straight into the kitchen, looking like some sort of avenging cowboy, angry and wearing black, the sun shining in from behind him. “Why are the boys in the bunkhouse talkin’ about you getting rag-dolled by a fuckin’ bull last night?”
I sense my dad go still as he looks up from his newspaper.
Of course, all those assholes are running their mouths.
“Rhett?” My dad quirks a brow while Cade breathes heavily and glares.
“One of the guys was knocked out. My guy. Gabriel’s son. When the bull went gunning for him, I just . . .” I scrub at my beard, thinking back to that moment. What went through my mind? I’m not entirely sure. All I knew is I couldn’t sit there and watch one of my best friends get gored by a bull. “Acted on instinct, I guess. Jumped on top of him.”
“You what?” My dad exclaims at the same time Cade barks, “I always knew you were stupid, but that really takes the cake.”
“Are you okay, son?”
I open my mouth to answer, but Cade cuts me off. “No, he’s not okay. He rides fucking angry cows with testicles for a living. He’s standing crooked like a broken cock. And he’s clearly got more than a few screws rattling around in his thick head.”
I stare back at my big brother, who is positively seething. “You always had a way with words.”
My dad chuckles at that, but then is back on me. “You seem to be in one piece?”
“My ribs aren’t,” I reply, before tipping the steaming coffee back into my mouth.
“So, you’re out for the season?” I don’t miss the twinge of hope in my dad’s voice.
Which means I feel like scum when I tell him the truth. “Nah. I’m still heading to Vegas. Last shot at that buckle.”
“Did a horse kick you in the head as a child when I wasn’t watching?” Cade asks. “Beau beat your ass too hard one time? If I shake you hard enough, will it get you thinking straight?”
Cade is mad, but my dad just looks sad. His blink lasts a few beats too long as he nods his head and folds his newspaper. “When is Summer coming back?” he asks as he pushes himself up from the table.
“I don’t know.” I stare at my feet when I say it.
Cade scoffs.
“Her dad had a heart attack, so she’s with him right now.”
“So, she’ll be back soon? Is Kip okay?” My dad seems so hopeful. He likes Summer. I know the two of them enjoyed morning coffees and easy conversation. I think everyone enjoyed having her here on the ranch.
“Dad, I don’t know. But I do know that Kip is going to be fine.”
He gives me a flat smile and a wave before turning away. “Gotta run some errands in town. Be back later.”
I say nothing. A house full of men hasn’t been conducive to sitting around talking about our feelings. I’ve never had that kind of relationship with my dad. Or my brothers, for that matter. We care for each other, and we tease each other, and sometimes we fight with each other.
Which is what it looks like Cade is itching for as he takes a few menacing steps into the kitchen. “Smart girl,” is what he says as he props a hip against the countertop and crosses his arms, the canvas of his black coat rasping as he does.
“Fuck you, Cade.” I shake my head.
“No, Rhett. Fuck you. You fucking bolthead. You had something with that girl.”
I huff out a laugh. “Cade, you don’t even like her.”
“I like her because she’s good for you. I like her because she doesn’t take our shit, and she doesn’t roll over for you like some lovesick puppy dog. I don’t like her because she’s smarter than me, and that’s fucking annoying.”
My teeth clamp and grind as my big brother stares me down. “You were a different person with her. You were happy. You didn’t have that sad, lost little boy look about you. The one constantly seeking attention and doing dumb shit to get it. Because you had her attention. You’re just too stupid to see it.”
“Is this your version of a pep talk?”
“No, you dolt. It’s the closest thing to an ass kicking I can give you without beating on a man with broken ribs.”
“I could still take you.” I couldn’t. Cade is bigger. Taller. And meaner.
“You’re so busy running around being a showboat rodeo boy that you don’t even realize what you’ve got. You think we all pick on you for riding bulls because we’re just being dicks? It’s because we love you. You don’t remember when mom died. But I do. I was there. I watched our dad hold her while she bled out. Suddenly, at eight, I was wrangling you and Beau because dad was a shell of himself, focused on taking care of Violet. And now I’m a single dad. I watch Luke grow every day and dread the day I can’t be the one to keep him safe.”
I bite my inner cheek. I know Cade is serious right now because I don’t think I can remember him ever telling me that he loves me.
“When you have a kid, everyone warns you about the sleepless nights. The explosive diaper changes. How they grow so fast that you hemorrhage money on clothing them. What they don’t tell you is that you’ll never spend another day of your life without worrying about another person. You’ll never completely relax again because that person you created will always, always be on your mind. You’ll wonder where they are, what they’re doing, and if they’re okay.”
The bridge of my nose stings at his words, and I sniff to clear it. Pain lances through me as I do. Fuck me, everything hurts.
“Not knowing where Beau is or what he’s doing is bad enough. But he’s serving this country, he’s got a good reason to be gone. But you? You fucking won it all. Twice. You make millions of dollars. If you had a brain, you would take that money and set yourself up real nice. When is it enough for you?”
I interrupt him there. “I fully intend to put my money toward this place. I plan to come back here and help you. I need something to do with myself.”
Cade’s gaze narrows. “When?”
“I don’t know.”
“After this season?”
I sigh. “I don’t know. Some days, I don’t even know if I like it anymore or if it’s just what I know. Quitting is hard. My entire identity is wrapped up in riding bulls.”
“With her, it wasn’t. And I don’t want an inheritance from you.” He pushes off the counter, shaking his head. “I want to be poor and have you pissing me off for years to come.”
From Cade, that sentiment is, well, like a shot to the heart. He leaves me, only stopping when he hits the door, fingers tapping against the frame. He glances at me over his shoulder.