Tires crunched over gravel. It was either Calvin or Albert, but I didn’t look up and continued to pretend to read instead. I wasn’t in the mood to talk.
I flipped the page. The car shut off. A car door slammed. Footsteps padded up the porch stairs. They weren’t Calvin’s though or Albert’s. They were lighter.
“Calvin here?” Charlotte asked. She sounded drunk, and I knew she was looking for trouble. “I didn’t see his truck.”
“No,” I said.
“Good, I wanted to talk to you.” She stumbled toward me, plopping down in a rocking chair.
It creaked every time she rocked back.
“Calvin didn’t tell you about us, did he?” She raised one of her thick dark eyebrows.
I didn’t say anything. I just looked at her, waiting for her to spill whatever it was she wanted to spill. Charlotte’s eyes were bloodshot and her lipstick was partially smeared.
“He and I slept together about a month ago. I thought you’d want to know,” she said, and then she stared at me, waiting for a reaction.
I grabbed the beer from the table and took a long swig. It wasn’t a surprise to me. I figured something happened between them. It was obvious and explained why she’d been so cold and territorial. I didn’t care that they had slept together. I just wanted her gone.
“Calvin told me he didn’t want you coming around anymore,” I said.
She clenched her jaw, moving it side to side.
“When did he say that?” Charlotte raised her chin. She tried to relax her face, but there was so much tension in it. It was like she was going to explode depending on what came out of my mouth.
I took another swig and glanced at her, choosing my words carefully—or carelessly, for that matter. “Last night,” I pointed the top of the beer bottle toward the field of grass beyond the barn, “when he fucked me over in that pasture.”
Her face turned red like she was going to cry and scream at the same time. Before she could react, Calvin’s truck pulled into the driveway. She stood unsteadily and marched across the porch and down the steps.
He closed the door of his truck behind him and spun the keys in his hand.
“What are you doing here, Charlotte?” Calvin slid his hands into his pockets and leaned against his vehicle while she closed the space between them.
I walked toward the steps, standing at the top of them, deciding whether to intervene or to just go inside.
“I told Grace about us,” Charlotte spat.
He shook his head and ran his hands down his face. Calvin’s eyes swung to me.
“I’m sorry, Grace,” he said. “It was nothing, just a one-time mistake.”
I offered no expression because he didn’t deserve one. His lip trembled when I turned on my foot.
“Grace, wait!” he called out.
Without looking back or saying anything, I went into the ranch house and let the door close behind me. It was the last place I wanted to be but I didn’t have a choice. Calvin was a liar. That much was clear. But I wondered now . . . was he something worse than that?
34.
Calvin
I considered running after Grace, but I needed to get rid of Charlotte once and for all. I thought I already had, but some animals put up a fight. She was ruining everything. Grace was right. I should have made sure Charlotte didn’t come around again. She looked at me the same way I looked at Grace, and I knew that was dangerous because she couldn’t have me.
“A mistake?” Charlotte’s voice shook. Tears gathered at the corners of her bloodshot eyes.
I nodded. It wasn’t new information, so I didn’t understand why she was back here again.
Her skin flushed as she glared at me. “I’ll show you a mistake.” It came off like a threat, but I wasn’t sure what she was threatening.
I raised my chin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I slept with Joe,” she seethed. “Last night.” Charlotte pushed past me “And I told him everything!”
My eyes went wide.
“Told him what?” I yelled, reaching for her. My fingers gripped her arm, pressing into her skin. She swung her other arm, thrusting her balled fist into my eye.
I pushed her hard—too hard. She fell back onto the ground, her skull hitting the gravel with a thud. She laid there for a moment, stunned. When she sat up, Charlotte pressed her fingers against the back of her head and brought them in front of her face. There was blood.
“Char, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” I tried to help her up. She swatted my hand away and stood on her own, wobbly and unsteady. She touched the back of her head again and looked at her fingers. More blood.
“Let me take you home,” I pleaded.
She looked at me through her splayed, bloodstained fingers.
“I’m done keeping your secrets.”
“Secrets? What are you talking about? What did you tell Joe?” My hands ran over my face, pulling at my skin. I took a deep breath.
She backed away as if she were afraid of me, afraid of what I would do. Then she turned and marched angrily back to her car, the back of her head saturated with blood from the gouge.
I thought she would speed out of here, but she took her time starting her car and driving off. I looked down at my own hands. They weren’t still. They shook like an addict going through withdrawals. I tried to steady them but they wouldn’t. Her vehicle disappeared down the road, and my mind went back to her parting words. I’m done keeping your secrets. What did Charlotte know?
35.
Grace
I needed to get out of here. Away from this ranch, this town—hell, the whole state of Wyoming. Charlotte was a problem, a major one at that. Then there was the sheriff and the missing woman. Could Calvin have done something to her? That changed everything. I packed up most of my things in case I needed to make a quick escape. Without a working car or phone, I didn’t know how I’d get out of here. I could steal Calvin’s truck or call from the house phone—if it even worked. I hadn’t heard it ring once since I got here. A new plan was needed. Maybe the best way to go about this was to act as though I was fine, at least until my car got fixed.
A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.
“Can I come in?” Calvin asked.
I took a seat on the bed and grabbed a book from my nightstand, pretending to read. “Yeah.”
The door opened and Calvin walked in carrying that damn teddy bear. I wanted to rip the stupid thing’s head off.
“This was on the couch.” He took a seat on the bed, handing it over. I tossed it aside.
Calvin hung his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Charlotte. It really was a one-time thing. I was just feeling sorry for myself and, well, she was here. One thing led to another.” He shrugged. “It’s no excuse though. I should have told you.”
He placed a hand on the blanket. My thigh was just beneath it. I nearly shuddered but slowed my breathing to calm myself down.
“What else are you lying about?” I studied his face. I knew a few things he had been dishonest about. Would he fess up to them? Or would he keep lying?
“Nothing, I swear.”
Lie.
He exhaled sharply.
“She told me she slept with Joe.” Calvin glanced over at me. “Last night after the barbecue.”