CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tyler
“Hell yeah!” Jacob squeals, high-fiving Eli when we get back. “Booya!” both screech, chest bumping with glee.
They whirl around the living room, practically knocking over furniture, spindly frames flying everywhere. Because there’s plenty of space. Our estate is a fucking mansion, ornate and gaudy. The rustic aesthetic is actually laughable, because nothing about this home is true farmhouse.
The exposed wooden beams are just for show, they don’t hold up the ceiling. The stuffed animal heads lining the walls are purchased, it’s not like anyone knows how to aim a gun and shoot. And shit, but that designer chair in the corner cost five figures, purchased from some catalogue back east.
Shit. When I was with Maisie, none of this mattered. From the creaky floors to the beaten-down furniture, it didn’t matter because we had each other. Holy shit, what I wouldn’t give to hear her soft voice calling to me again, to feel that plush, generous body beneath mine, moaning with ecstasy.
But first, there are my brothers.
“Ty, you didn’t see her when she first came out. That chick was all proud and cocky, telling us how she’d never sell,” Eli guffaws, face mottled with glee.
“Yeah, she stormed out of that house like a boss,” Mitch adds in wonder.
“I seriously thought she had married some rich dude for a moment,” Jacob adds. “Like we really were down shit creek.”
“But she did!” Eli howls with laughter while pointing towards me. “She married Tyler Morgan, and the Double H is ours now!”
“Shut up,” comes my growl. “Shut the fuck up.”
But my brothers can’t be stopped.
“I get it though, big bro,” says Mitch, a smirk on that cocky face. “I mean, I got stiff the second she came outside in that robe. I know you couldn’t control yourself. Hell, I’m jealous! I wish I was fucking that sweet, young snatch,” he leers and I literally charge across the room then, intent on tearing his head off.
But Jake and Eli grab me, holding me back like a snarling dog, face a mask of rage.
“Shut the fuck up!” I howl, struggling like a madman, “Don’t you ever talk about my wife like that!”
“Cool it, cool it,” grunts Eli, trying to grab my arm. Unfortunately, I’ve got about fifty pounds on him, and it’s hopeless. I break free.
Meanwhile, Jacob is trying to restrain my other arm, and I toss him off with a quick shake. My hulking form advances on Mitch, ready to do some serious damage, but give my youngest brother some credit. He knows danger when he sees it, and immediately steps back, both hands up, expression apologetic.
“Yo yo, take it easy. My bad, bro. She’s a beautiful young girl, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“Then shut the fuck up!” comes my howl again, expression murderous.
“Yo yo, like I said!” Mitch wails again, now quivering with fear. “Cool it, no disrespect.”
I close my eyes, seeing red, but the truth is there’s no point in beating him to a pulp. My brothers are fickle weaklings, they’re not even worth the energy. So I back off, chest heaving, fists clenching and unclenching by my sides.
“Besides,” grunts Eli, picking himself up from the floor. “You’re not staying married to her, are you? We’re just taking the land and then you’ll divorce her, right? I mean, hot cunt is hot cunt, but she’s trash, bro. Pure trash. You can’t give garbage like that the Morgan name.”
Didn’t he hear me? Is his brain really so small? I turn to him, the animal unleashed again, ready to skewer this fucker in two.
But suddenly, a deep voice comes from the office.
“Tyler,” my dad commands, and Eli is rescued again. As usual.
Stalking into the office I feel a mix of emotions. Obviously, regret and shame are the most severe, but I’m utterly disgusted with myself. I can’t believe I’ve tricked Maisie and hurt her so badly. In our entire time together she’s only ever cried from pure ecstasy, when I fucked her too good. So today was a new side to the sweet girl, and I can still hear pain in her voice, see that beautiful face streaked with tears. My chest grows tight, the air leaving my lungs. Shit. I did that. I’m responsible for her misery.
But my dad doesn’t know, nor does he care.
“Sit,” my dad points towards a leather chair and I take a seat as the old man grabs two glasses and a decanter filled with a amber liquid before joining me. Unable to wait, I rush to pour three fingers of whiskey, quickly downing it all in one gulp.
“Fuck!” I curse as the liquor burns my chest.
“That bad, huh?” my father asks before sipping his drink. Jonah is a man of few words, and we sit there for a few minutes, staring at each other. But I’m not gonna let him win, fuck no. This whole fuck-up is because of his dreams, and I’m not letting up.
Finally, Jonah stirs.
“So you like her, huh?” he drawls.
Fuck him! Fuck this fucker.
“Fuck you,” comes my harsh curse.
But Jonah just laughs.
“Oh, I know you, son. And I can read the look on your face from a mile away. That’s the look of a man that’s just lost the love of his life,” his eyebrows rise, gray and bushy. So you wanna tell me what happened over there?” He tilts his head while looking at me over silver framed glasses.
“No,” is my terse reply. Fuck him. Fuck them all.
But Jonah won’t be deterred.
“Fine, that’s fine,” he drawls. “Don’t tell me then. Your choice.”
I bow my head. Shit, my life is so fucked. I’ve screwed things up so bad, and there’s nothing left. So what can I lose by sharing? Slowly, the words come out.
“She’s amazing Dad,” is all I can manage at first. “Really amazing.”
Jonah leans back.
“And?”
I take a deep breath.
“We’ve never liked old Walter at the Double H. But his daughter’s different. She’s poor, sure, but works like a field hand, always busy. She’s never had a break in her life.”
Jonah’s eyebrows raise.
“Interesting. And how’s that farm being run?”
“That’s the thing,” I shake my head with wonder. “She’s been doing it single-handed. Maisie’s been running that place on her own. It’s incredible, an eighteen year-old girl working like a dog most days.”
My dad’s eyebrows quirk.
“Really? On her own? That place was in shambles last I saw, even before Walter Jones died. And his daughter’s been managing on her own?”
“Yeah,” I reply slowly. “I helped for sure. I built the place up, did a ton of repairs, ran that tractor a couple times. She needed it,” I add tightly. “I couldn’t watch her suffer.”
Of course, this was the exact opposite of what was supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to help Maisie. I was sent there to steal the place from her, to run her off the land and make her suffer.
But instead of being angry, Jonah’s eyes grow far away as he thinks back.
“Sounds like old times. You know, me and your mother come from nothing, Tyler,” he muses. “We started with one small plot of land that we ran all by ourselves. She would tend to the house and I’d work from sun up to sun down, sweating in those fields. There’s something about a beautiful young woman that will motivate you to become a better man. And it doesn’t hurt how they make you feel at night,” he reminisces, lost in dreamland.
Gross. Him and my mom getting it on? Fucking disgusting, where is this going?
But Jonah snaps back to earth then.
“Now, this house here,” he points to nowhere in particular. “It’s nothing like the little shack we started with. And while it’s great to have a chef on call, and a staff of twenty to do Lord knows what, nothing was better than those early days with your mother. I’d give anything to go back to that simple time, the two of us against the world.”
I look up in shock. It’s startling to think of my parents as anything other than Big Daddy and Big Momma, fat cats sitting on top of an industrial empire. But I guess a long time ago, they were young and in love, naïve and struggling to get by.
But Jonah’s not done with his reminiscing yet.
“Kathy’s gone now, bless her heart. But I miss her still. It’s those quiet moments together, you know? When she was all I cared about in this world. So yeah, I’m happy for you, son,” he lifts his glass in a toast before taking a sip.
But I’m fucking confused. What the hell? I just failed at my mission. I was supposed to take control of the Double H, and instead I’ve married the girl, chained for life. My dad should be reaming me out, not drinking to my happiness.
“So what? What do I do?” I ask dully. “Divorce? You afraid that Maisie is gonna steal our fortune?”
The idea is ludicrous. Maisie’s not interested in money, she’s never been motivated by cash. It’s always about the sun, sky, and wind, her land, animals, and me. So to be talking about dollars was fucking ridiculous, but Jonah didn’t know.
Jonah snaps a sharp look at me then.
“Fuck no! Hell son, I thought you were smarter than that,” he grunts, leaning back in his chair. “This was supposed to be a motivational speech. You’ve gotta go and get your woman! This shit,” he says, gesturing to the lavish office, “doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have the girl to go with it.”
I gape at him. Shit, really? He’s telling me to fuck the Morgan family fortune, and pursue a tiny cowgirl out on her own?
But Jonah nods again.
“What I wouldn’t give to have Kathy back again,” he sighs, looking off in the distance. “Just her and me, and our little plot of land. And soon there was you,” he nods, looking at me pointedly. “Kids change everything.”
Holy fuck. Kids. The thought had flitted across my mind a couple times, but I was always too busy to really sit down and think. Because Maisie and I are always going at it bareback, the loving so hot and sensuous.
But that was it exactly. Bareback means semen in pussy, and that means kids.
“Yeah, children,” grunted my dad, laughing at my stunned expression. “Don’t look so shocked, we got four of you, and we wouldn’t give you back, even those nitwits,” he nods to my brothers outside.
But I don’t care about them, they’re annoying as hell with mean streaks up the ass. They don’t matter.
“Listen,” I say, taking a deep breath. “She was so mad when she found out. You know, that I’m a Morgan, that we’re about this,” I said, gesturing to the huge mansion.
But my dad isn’t fazed.
“Well, she’s got a reason to be, Tyler. What you did was pretty low. You’ll need to give her some time, but you know how to close a deal,” he says smoothly.
“Yeah, but how do we move forward from something like this?” I wonder aloud. “I mean, it’s pretty fucked up. Basically everything I told her about myself was a lie. Or an omission. Or both. Whichever is worse.”
Jonah looks unconcerned.
“Just tell her the truth. It’s painful, sure, but the cat’s already out of the bag. The worst is over. Besides, this is a sturdy farm girl. She can handle it, she’s handled far worse in her life. She’ll come back around, mark my words.”
I’m skeptical. Jonah doesn’t know Maisie, he didn’t see how she screamed at me, how she cried, broken-hearted.
But I resolve to try.
“Thanks,” comes my grunt as I stand. “Thanks.”
“No prob,” says Jonah wryly. “So what are you gonna do?”
I take a deep breath.
“I dunno yet. Find her, I guess.”
“Great. Just try not to kill your brothers in the process,” he adds lightly, and I shake my head again. Fuck them. Fuck Jacob, Eli and Mitch. They’re such douchebags, with jelly for guts.
So I ignore them as I storm outside, heading straight for the car.
“Tyler, seriously bro,” calls Jacob as I stalk by. “Don’t tell me you planned on bringing that girl into this family. She’s trash.”
Rage flows through my veins but I make myself keep moving. There’s no point. His words are fucked, but I’ve got business.
So ignoring him, I hop into a shiny black F-150 parked in the driveway, reaching in the sun visor to retrieve the keys before speeding down the pavement and onto the dirt road that leads to Maisie’s farmhouse. Oh shit. Hopefully there’s some way I can get through. Last I saw her, she was spitting nails with tears streaming down that beautiful face.
But when my car pulls up, everything’s eerily silent. The front door’s swinging, loose on its hinges, a gust of wind pushing it open. What the hell? Walking into the house, my eyes look around warily. What’s going on? On the one hand, the place smells normal. There’s the scent of warm apple pie, and the air’s even hot, like the oven’s on.
But something’s missing.
“Maisie!” I yell while walking through the house, voice loud in the small space. There’s no response, and by the time I make it to the bedroom it’s obvious she’s gone. The bed sheets are still a soiled mess after our unforgettable honeymoon night, rumpled and twisted. Maisie’s neat as a pin, and she always makes the bed. So what the fuck’s going on? Where’s my wife?
Wandering through the house, there are more signs of desertion. The kitchen is bare, and her GED book isn’t propped on the coffee table like always. Oh shit, oh shit. My heart drops to the ground, bile rising in my throat. It’s clear my wife’s beat feet, leaving me with nothing.
But I’ve never been one to give up. Grabbing my keys, long strides eat up the ground towards my truck. The bus station is the only way out of this town, and if she wants to up and leave she’ll have to at least hear my explanation first.
But where could the female go? The brunette doesn’t have any family. Plus, she’s never traveled outside of Kansas, so it seems unlikely she would just pick up and vanish. But so be it. My female’s missing … and I’m on a mission to drag her back where she belongs.