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Control (Kenshaw Ranch Book 4) by Piper Frost, H.Q. Frost, M. Piper (7)


A week ago I walked into an empty house. Affton told me she wouldn't be long, so I waited at her brother's house for six hours, waiting on a text until I couldn't take it anymore. I assumed maybe she went back to my place to get some peace and quiet, but when I walked into a dark house I knew she was gone. I checked the room she was in, knowing full well that I wouldn't find her bags there. I don't know when she did it, but she packed everything she brought into her car without me knowing it.  

She was planning all along on leaving after that funeral. So here I sit. Four beers in, staring at the biggest fuckin' bonfire we've had on the ranch in a long ass time, and all I can see is the way she looked at me when I told her I loved her. I wasn't lying. And I still mean those words today. I don't think there's been a day since she’s left that I’ve questioned my love for her. I tried moving on, but ending how you feel about someone when it's as strong as I feel for Affton is impossible.  

I tried messaging her online again but the ability to message was turned off. My texts to her phone always bounce back as undeliverable. She essentially ended all communication with me without telling me goodbye. Without telling anyone here goodbye. I should have known what she was doing at the funeral, telling everyone she loved them, that something was off. I just assumed it was her finally realizing she belongs here. But those were goodbye hugs.  

Knowing her, probably goodbye for fuckin' ever.  

“How you doin' over here?” Kinlee walks over and sits on the log next to mine. “You've been starin' at that flame for an hour now and haven't said a word.”

“I'm fine,” I mutter, finishing off my beer.  

“That's what Bo says too, but I know he's lyin'.” She smiles at her husband who's walking toward us. “She's gotta figure her shit out eventually.” She shrugs and stands, wrapping her arm around Bo's side.

I glance up at him. ”Hey.” I wish I hadn’t promised Affton I wouldn't tell him about her situation.

I've been sick with fuckin' worry. So worried I’ve been checking the news stations from around where she's living now to hopefully keep tabs on her. And that thought alone makes my stomach roll.  

“Tommy,” he says and sits next to me. “Wanted to talk to you about somethin',” he quietly says when Kinlee walks away.

Goddammit.  

“Oh yeah?” I spin my empty bottle in my hands. “Somethin' ‘bout work?” I know it's not. I know what he's about to ask and I can't answer him. I refuse to do that to her. Not yet at least.  

“No. 'Bout my sister.” He leans his elbows onto his knees and looks over at me.

“Figured that was the case,” I mutter, dropping my head. “Didn't think you cared this much, to be honest.” I'm poking the bull. I know how much he loves his sister. At least how much he used to. I couldn't imagine having a sibling then having them shove me and my family completely out of their lives though.  

“Don't try and figure out my relationship with my sister, Tommy,” he says, clamping down his anger, but it's there. “We were close as kids. I know me and you didn't know each other, but when my sister wasn't hangin’ with you, she was hangin’ with me. I wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for that girl.” He drops his head with a huff.

I nod, not knowing what he wanted to talk about other than to make sure I knew he's still the one in this town most worried about her. Claiming...something.  

“Yeah, me and you both, Bo.” I shake my head. “I'm heading out soon, what was it you wanted to talk about?” Cut to the chase, I really don't feel like sitting here recalling old memories about a girl I've loved for way too fucking long.  

“Shit.” He swipes his hat off his head. “Somethin's wrong with her. There's somethin' goin' on with that girl. I know my sister and I know she can be a bitch. But I know there's somethin' more happenin'. I was hopin' you could shed some light. Drugs? She in some kind of trouble? She take up gamblin'? Why's she doin' this? When she came here she didn't even fuckin' tell me!” He grunts, getting louder. “She went right to you.” He looks at me. “What do you know?”

Those are the most words I think Bo Hart's ever said to me. I watch him, he's gripping a beer can mighty tight and I'm not certain I've ever seen this look of worry that's written across his face. Sure, he worries daily about his wife and kid, but nothing like this.  

“I don't know much more than you, Bo.” I sigh. “She's busy with work. Very busy and very stressed. I can promise you it's not drugs or gambling.” At least I'm not lying yet. “I agree something's not right, but she's too far removed from us to confide in any of us.” I shrug, trying to play it off. She was convinced Bo hated her, but it seems to be just the opposite. He loves his sister and the anger and frustration comes out of worry. “I'm sure it's just work stress.” I pat his back. “She'll come around, right? Has Kinlee ever been wrong before?” I try smiling to lighten the mood but there's a rock in my gut that's made a permanent frown on my face this week.  

He sighs and stands. “If you hear anythin', let me know please. I'm worried. I love that girl, as stupid as she's been. She's my only sister and all we really had was each other growin' up. She's independent, but not...like this. There's nothin' I've done to make her hate me like this,” he mutters but before I can say anything, he walks away, going right for his wife's comfort.

She doesn't hate him. This whole thing's one big fuckin' shit show of stubborn, bull-headed adults out to prove something.  

I yank my phone out of my pocket, tired of these games. I'll give her a month. One month to get it together. Then I'm taking over this rodeo. I don't think about the ramifications if her husband gets ahold of the message before I hit send.  

Tommy Barns: I'm done playing this game. I'll give you a month to figure out what the hell you're going to do with your life. Thirty days. That's it, then I’m coming for you. I'm not waiting around to find your obituary in the paper.

I tap send then exit out of our messages. I'm not sure if it'll even go through to her, but that's her problem. I'm over this fucking show. She's in danger, and I think giving her a month is me being generous.  

The next week at work is hell. I've dragged all damn day at the ranch and fought all night just to stay awake at the tattoo shop. Brandt's getting annoyed with it. Chase is getting annoyed with it. Hell, I'm fuckin' annoyed with it but I can't help it.  

I'm madly in love with a girl who's being brainwashed. That's what it comes down to. She's been in this situation for so long with no way out and she's been convinced by that fuck-wad that there's no way out.  

“You've been lookin' at that horse's ass for thirty minutes now,” Brandt says, tossing his gloves on the workbench and walking over to me, running his hand down Control's mane. He shows the horse more attention than I probably have all day.

“Just workin,” I mutter, my mind flicking to scenes of this Corey guy beating Affton. Made up scenes that all end with her dead by his hands. I feel sick. I've felt sick since she went back to him.

“Control doing okay?”

Something's gotta give. I can't keep up both these jobs when all I see when I close my eyes is the girl I love bloodied and bruised. I knew I still loved her, but seeing her again made that feeling really punch me in the gut. Then seeing her in distress made the need to protect her, hold her close for life, so strong that it’s killing me she’s gone.

“Fine,” I say, standing and tossing the brush into the bucket. Even though I had every intention of brushing him down, I can’t concentrate. “I'm heading out.” I'm finding it hard to care about anything but her anymore. I need to get ahold of her. I need her to respond, just to know she's alive.  

I get home to a dark house and head straight for the backyard. Ginnie comes running up to me and greets me like I hung the damn sun. I didn't. I just let a girl that I'm madly in love with go back to her abusive fucking husband and I promised not to tell anyone.  

Three more weeks. Twenty one days. That's how long I'm waiting. If I don't hear anything by then I give up. I'll break my promise, I don't care. I understand that could be too long in her case, but I have a very hard time believing she'd let it get that bad. Who am I to say though? I barely know the girl anymore. But yet I still fucking love her and would die for her in an instant if that's what it came down to. All I've ever wanted is for her to be happy.  

Another week passes and I'm no better of a man. If anything it's worse and Chase is finally picking up on it. I've slammed more drawers in this place tonight than he ever has, and he's the one with the temper between the two of us. I'm usually more laid back than this!  

“The fuck's been your deal, man?” he asks when his final client walks out for the night.

I'm cleaning up my station, pissed that I worked back to back and didn't even feel a twinge of relief. Usually working here helps me release stress. Usually I come in, ink a few customers, maybe pierce one or two and by the end of the night I feel okay. Tonight just fuckin' sucked all around. I almost fucked up someone's tattoo, which probably would have gotten me kicked out of here, and the nose ring I put in for this teenager bled way too much.  

“Nothing.” I slam a drawer closed so hard it pops back open and mocks me for being such an idiot.  

“I'm not a Kenshaw, fucker. You can talk to me. I'm not a Hart, either,” he says and my heart aches at the mention of her last name. I must make a face because he starts to laugh. “That's what I thought.” He walks over to me and takes the bottle of disinfectant spray from my hand like it's a loaded gun. “Let's have a beer.” He nods toward the stairs and I roll my eyes.  

“I'm fine,” I grumble, trying to push past him but he blocks my way, crossing his arms in front of him.

“Upstairs or next door, Tommy? I've got alcohol both places, but there’s a lot of ears in this town that like to listen, and you will be telling me what the fuck's been wrong with you lately.”

“Ain’t Kaydence expecting you home?”

Fuck, everyone in this fucking town's found themselves the perfect fucking companion. I did too and yet here I sit. Alone and so pissed it makes my skin burn when I think about it. She left me to go back to him. The guy that leaves her so bloodied and bruised she can't even hug someone without being in pain. She'd rather be with him than safe here with me.

“She's out with the girls tonight. Let's go, man.” He starts his way up the steps to what used to be his old apartment. Over the past year he's turned it into a hangout spot for those of us that work the shop. Spent a shit ton of money updating it but it's what this place needed.

I begrudgingly follow him, my feet feeling like they're filled with lead as I trudge my way up the steps. By the time I make it he's already in the kitchen popping the top on a beer for me before pouring himself a drink.  

“Welcome to therapy time with Chase. Sit down and spill your guts. I charge extra for criers. Fuckin' pansies.” He chuckles and smiles at me. “No? Not in the mood for joking?” He sits on the recliner and relaxes back.  

“She left, Chase,” I bitch, falling to the couch.  

“No shit. Like three weeks ago, right? That what this is all about? You didn't get enough pussy while she was here?”  

“Fuck!” I bark. “We didn't fuck!” I sigh and take a swig of beer while Chase nods at me silently.  

“So then you're mad you didn’t fuck? There's plenty of girls around this town to take care of that, Tommy.”  

I give him a look that shuts him up and he takes a long drink.  

“You know that's not it, idiot,” I grumble. “Don't write her off as just another girl.”  

“So why did she leave then?” He raises his eyebrows in question. “And why didn't you fuck?”  

“She's...” I swallow the knot in my throat and try to cool my veins as rage courses through them. “She's married,” I growl and he whistles.  

“Holy shit,” he murmurs. “Who else knows?”  

“No one. And you can't tell anyone, Chase. I promised her I wouldn't tell, but it's eating at me somethin' fierce.”

“So she's married and you're depressed?” He nods. “I mean, I get it. It sucks, but you can't blame the girl. You never told her how you felt. And now she's happily in love with some guy that's probably more into fashion than she is. Give it time. He'll come out of the closet soon enough and she'll come running back.” He crosses his arms in front of him, watching me.  

“That's not it. She's not happily married. That's what's so bad about this whole thing.” I shake my head and he cocks his at me.  

“Not happily married? And she told you this why? You're bein' awfully fuckin' vague, Tommy. You know I ain’t gonna spread shit. I'm the fuckin' king of keepin' things to myself. You know how much shit I hear about everyone in this town workin' on those clients day in and day out? Too much. But I lock it up and I don't let it taint my view of them. Sometimes people just gotta get shit off their chest, so spill.”  

He’s right, but I really wish I took this to Grant first. He’s been so busy with work though, that I’ve only seen him in passing at my place a few nights a week. I live closer to the shop so he’s taken over a room in my house. Chase is second best, and he’s here right now, so I let it go.

“Shit,” I huff. “He's abusing her.” It feels like acid on my tongue just saying those words out loud.  

“What the fuck does that mean?” he blurts, leaning forward in his chair. “Like verbal shit? And she's takin' it?”

“Physically.” I groan and rub my hand over the back of my neck.  

“He beats her!?” Chase snaps, shooting out of his chair. “And she went back to him?!”

“Yeah...” I nod, staring at the floor. “She had so many bruises,” I whisper, a knot in my throat. “Something that looked like a stab wound on her shoulder but there were no stitches so I'm sure she didn't get proper treatment. Scrapes and scabs and bruises all over.” It hurts just to talk about it. “He sent her a message and I saw it. A pi—” I choke out, shaking my head and cursing. I fuckin' told myself when she left I wouldn't cry, but here it is. Motherfucking tears. Tears of rage and anger. “He sent her a picture as some sort of threat or reminder. It was taken right after he beat the hell out of her. She was passed out. Her face was bloody and swollen. There was blood all over the sheets around her,” I whimper. “And she fuckin' went back to him, Chase.” I glance up at him but he's not where he was standing. He's pacing the place, gripping his phone in his hand.

Chase was always the one kid throughout school that hung out with pretty much anyone. After he graduated he started hanging out with Affton, me, Grant, and Felder a lot more, but he was always in with the Kenshaw crowd. It's pretty fuckin' insane how we're all intertwined now that we've gotten older. That means there’s just that many more people he can tell this to and then she’ll hate me. But, I don’t think he’d do anything unless I give him the go ahead.  

“What's the asshole's name? We're killing him. No one messes with any of our girls.”  

“She ain’t my girl. She made sure to tell me that when she was here.” I can still hear her tone when those words fell from her lips like it was no big deal.  

“Fuck that! I'm getting Bo on the fucking phone. This man's as good as dead.” He starts to pull up Hart's number and I panic.

“No,” I blurt, standing and trying to fight the phone out of his hands. “I promised her I wouldn't tell. You told me you wouldn't repeat this shit!”

“You're just going to let her get beat?! And not do shit about it?!” I've seen plenty of emotions come out of Chase Haring. This shouldn't intimidate me as much as it does, especially because I've got a couple inches on him and a few years, but it does. Because I think I know deep down that giving her this time she said she needs isn't helping her.

“Look.” I pull out my phone and pull up the last text I sent her, telling her she's got a month or else. I shove it into his hands and start to pace the room. “That was a couple weeks ago. In a few I'm driving out to Cali and kicking his ass, then dragging hers here.”

He glares at me, his jaw twitching. ”You’re a stupid man, Tommy, but I get your loyalty to her.”  

“Yeah,” I huff, letting out an annoyed chuckle. “It's fuckin' annoying. I gotta trust she'd get out before it got too bad though. I’m giving her time to get her life in order like she asked. She's smarter than I think she even gives herself credit for anymore. But a month is long enough.”  

“Bo's going to murder him. He may murder you too for keeping this from him.” Chase walks over to the sink and drops his glass in it. “But whatever you do, I'm here for you. You know that.”  

“Thanks.”  

I'd like to think that she'll show up at my door tomorrow morning, but it doesn't happen.  

Nor does it the next day. Or the week after that.  

At the month mark I'm ready. I've talked it over with myself in the fucking mirror like an idiot a hundred different times exactly how I'm going to tell Bo Hart, bull riding champion and incredibly protective man, that I've known for a month that his sister's in an abusive marriage and I haven't done shit about it.  

Who the fuck am I kidding? This is going to be fucking horrible.  

I step up to the Hart’s front door, praying Kinlee and the boy aren't here. This isn't something that they need to witness, because I'm sure when I tell Bo the truth about everything he's bound to lose his shit. I knock on the door and take a step back, shoving my hands in my pockets.  

It takes him a minute but as he approaches the open door, he pauses and rubs his jaw.

“Tommy, I like you, man, but you showin' up to my house on a Sunday uninvited don't mean nothin' good.” Reaching out, he shoves the screen door open and turns around before I even walk into the house. He walks into the kitchen and when I enter, he's got two beers, holding one out to me.

“Thanks,” I mutter, my heart beating out of my chest. Nerves never did sit well with me. “Hey, so,” I say, taking a seat. “Have you talked to your sister lately?”  

“Fuck,” he breathes and drops his head. “Tell me. Just tell me.”

“You sure you don't want to finish that beer first?” I wince at the look he gives me. “Right. So... She's married. For five years. And in one of the most abusive relationships I've ever seen. And she's not responded to me in a month.”  

In a twist I don't expect with his back being as it is, he launches the full beer bottle across the kitchen and I watch as glass and liquid splatter. I don't have time to react when he has me by the throat before I can even look at him. When I dart my eyes to his, he quickly lets me go before I retaliate and he backs up.

“You fuckin' knew and you didn't tell me?” His tone's quiet, but far from calm.

“I promised her I'd give her time to figure it out. She came...” I grunt, trying not to get emotional but just remembering her like she was when she showed up last month makes my blood boil. “She was pretty bad when she showed up for the funeral. That's why she didn't stay here. Took over an hour of applying her makeup just to cover it. And from the looks of it, this wasn't the first time. She knows how to hide the bruises and cuts, Bo.” I curse, starting to pace the kitchen. He's watching me, his fists tight. “I feel like an ass, but I thought she left to go get her life in order and she'd call when she did. She's...her husband isn't right in the head. God knows what he'd do to her if he found out she were here for a funeral. She told him she was on a business trip.”  

“Tommy,” he grunts. “Tommy...” His piercing eyes hit mine like a bullet. “If my sister's dead right now...you know what this means, right?” he asks quietly, his tone sounding like rage is about to tip over.

“I do,” I whisper. “I know exactly what it means. The only thing making me think she's still alive is this.” I hold the phone out to him, showing her online post from two weeks ago. He holds it in his grip then starts to scroll her feed. “Bo, I've loved your sister for over fifteen years. I always assumed she'd come home to me. To us.” My hands shake when he gives the phone back, the rage still burning hot in his gaze. “She can't, though. She's terrified of that man. Watching her on the phone with him? It hurt. Knowing she willingly went back to him?” Fuck. “Scared the fuck out of me when I realized she was really gone.”

“Five years,” he mutters to himself, the gears turning before he shakes his head. “That don't make sense. She's been distant for about seven.” He looks at me like I have answers. “When'd she meet the dead-man?”

I let my lips start to lift into a small smirk now that the fear of him murdering me is gone and solely focused on her husband. It falls immediately when I'm brought back to the moment.

“Don't know. She had a miscarriage when I was about twenty-eight. I think they had been together a while before that so probably about seven years.” I walk to the stool next to their island and take a seat. “We gotta find her, Bo.”  

“What do you mean find her? You don't know where she is? I'm ready to get into my truck and go now. Where the fuck is she?” The panicked anger is coming back and he starts to move around the kitchen.

“She doesn't talk to me that much.”

“Y'all were awfully fucking close at my mom's funeral! So y'all don't talk but you'll fuck her when she shows up for a funeral?” That angry glare's back on me.

“I didn't fuck her!” I belt out. “Fuck, Hart. She needed someone to lean on and you sure as fuck weren't offering a shoulder! If anyone's to blame for her leavin' again maybe it's you. You ever think about that? You pretty much let it be known to everyone around you didn't want your sister to be a part of your fuckin' life!”  

His tense jaw loosens and he starts to speak calmly, slowly. “Had I known my sister was fearin' for her life, I wouldn't have assumed she's got grudges against me and my family.” Storming toward me, his fist slams to the island. “I would have been there for her had I known! You fucking knew!”

“I know! Fuck!” I stand and run my hands through my hair. “She looked so fucking bad, Bo,” I whisper, shaking my head. “She made me promise I wouldn't tell you. She's my best friend...was. She was my best friend. I've never broken a promise to her before!” My heart's beating wildly and he's looking at me like he wants to kill me for not telling him. Well I fuckin' feel the exact same right about now. “Looking back I should have fucking told you the minute she left without saying anything. I know I'm in the wrong, okay? Can we move past it and find her before he does even more damage?”

“Call her. Now. Text her.” He's pointing at my phone. “Get her on the fucking phone!”

“She ain’t gonna answer,” I mutter, dialing the number I've memorized over the years. It goes straight to voicemail and I end the call without leaving a message. “I don't trust leaving her a message in case Corey hears it.” Goddamn, just saying his name out loud makes me want to vomit. “From the looks of what I saw the one night she was in my house, he doesn't trust her an ounce. Wouldn't surprise me if he monitors all her social media accounts and everything.”  

“Corey? Corey what?” He has his phone in his grip but I notice it keeps slipping and his right hand is having a hard time. “Corey what?” he screams. “Pull it up on your motherfucking phone, Barns! Corey fucking what?”

“Bower. Corey Bower.” I roll my eyes and pull up the man's media page. “That's him.”  I slide my phone across the counter to him, clenching my jaw. 

After inspecting it for a minute, his brows furrow. “He's CEO of the company she works for. He's...her fucking boss?” He looks at me and I nod.  

“She feels like there's no way out of it. She's worked her ass off to get where she is. He's threatened her career if she leaves him. He's threatened her life if she walks away,” I growl. “We need her back here, and we need this fucker six feet under, Bo.”  

“Find where he fucking lives right now. Los Angeles is a big fuckin' city, Tommy, and just because that company's located there, don't mean she's livin' there. I want a fucking address. I have to figure out what to do.” He looks around. “We both can't leave the ranch, but I'm not stepping down from this. I would have been there a goddamn month ago had you told me,” he snarls. “We need an address.”

When he walks away I finally take a drink of the beer he handed me and get to work on trying to find her. He's right. We can't leave the ranch...but we have to.  

The kitchen door opens a half hour after Bo walks out of the room and Kinlee and Bobby happily enter. He runs full speed toward the stairs but she stops in her tracks and looks at me, then glances at the glass and beer mess on the wall and floor.  

“What the hell did you do to my kitchen?” She gestures to the wall. “Tommy, seriously? How the hell old are we? Wh... Where's Bo?” She walks to the bottom of the stairs. “Bo! Get down here!” She storms back over to me and crosses her arms in front of her. “Why are you in my house?”  

“I came to talk to Bo. That ain’t my mess,” I say, nodding to the wall and taking a drink of my beer. “See. My bottle's still fully intact .” I smirk at her and go back to work on my phone.  

“I made the mess,” Bo says and I glance over to see him struggling to hold his kid. Seems like when he's under stress, that nerve issue he's got is worse. “It was the beer or Tommy's head.”

“Tommy's head.” Bobby reaches for my hair. I laugh at the kid and let him mess it up.

“Well then. I'm glad it wasn't his head,” Kinlee mumbles, walking over to get a wet rag. “Blood's a bitch to get off the walls.” She throws the rag to Bo and he barely catches it. “Clean it up. And while you're cleaning, one of you two's gonna tell me what the hell had my husband throwing beer bottles at the wall.”  

I glance at Bo and he looks at me, his jaw tight.  

“I came over to talk about Affton,” I blurt.

Kinlee's eyebrows dip. “What happened?”

Bo hands her Bobby then gets to work on the beer, not answering, so I guess he wants me to tell the story and suffer Kinlee's wrath now. I take a deep breath and shake my head.  

“Long story short, she came home for the funeral beaten and battered. She wasn't even gonna tell me but I caught her getting out of the shower and—”

Bo barks out a noise and holds his hand up. ”Bobby,” he says calmly but the look on his face is expressing everything else he's feeling. “Go get daddy your favorite moo.” He waits for Kinlee to put the boy down and when Bobby goes running toward the living room, Bo charges me, but Kinlee grabs him right as I tumble off the stool and take a few steps back. “You said you didn't fuck my sister,” he growls and Kinlee's literally holding him back right now. “You saw her in the shower? What the fuck's goin' on, Tommy?”

“It’s not like that! I fuckin' promise!”  

“Your sister's allowed to be with whoever she wants, Bo,” Kinlee says calmly.  

“She's married,” he barks back.

I shake my head. “I... I couldn't do that to her. Not with everything else she's going through.”  

“I'm sorry, she's what now?” She lets go of Bo and he stands up straight, glaring at me.  

“Married. And her husband's the one doing it to her.” I fall into a chair at the table and shake my head. “I’ve known about this for a month. I knew she went back to him. I figured she was getting her life in order to leave him. But she's not responded to me in a month. And I'm starting to get worried.”  

Kinlee's eyes are huge as she tries to process the garbage that spilled from my mouth.  

“Be glad it was the beer, darlin'.” Bo kisses her head then goes back to cleaning.

“Why... Where is she now? Is she okay? Doesn't she know she can just come home? We'll keep her safe!”  

“It's not that easy. The guy's her boss. And he's threatened her life on multiple occasions from what I gathered. She's scared shitless of him.” I shake my head. “Don't matter though. We're finding her and we're bringing her back here. Whether she likes it or not. Then I’m putting a fuckin' bullet in the guy's brain.”  

Kinlee's brows scrunch together. “Wait, she's married.” She points to me. “But you two...” She cocks her head and smirks. “Usually I wouldn't condone that, but from what you're telling me, her husband isn't much of a man. I can be okay with what I saw.” She shrugs and heads to the sink, rolling her sleeves up. My gaze darts to Bo because he’s glaring at me, probably wondering what she saw. And she didn’t see much at the funeral, just our close proximity. “So when're you going to get her?” She's talking about this like it's no big fucking deal. We're just going to go swoop in and bring the girl home. Simple as that, but I know it won't be. She's going to put up a fight for sure. We're going to need more people than just me and Bo.  

“Now hang on,” Bo speaks up. “What’d you see?”

“Oh nothin’.” She waves her hand at him and rolls her eyes. “Get to cleanin’, cowboy.”

“I didn't have sex with her,” I mumble, picking at the label on my beer. “I just...” I curse and stand up. “I need to get home.”  

“Tommy,” Bo blurts and I wait. “This can't be put off anymore. We'll find her.”

“I know.” I nod. “We will.” I'm not sure how, but it has to happen. I've let it go on way too long.

The next morning I lie in bed from a night full of tossing and turning. I stared at that computer screen for hours last night, praying to find something but there's a reason I didn't go into investigative work. Past social media, I'm not sure how the fuck to find someone on the internet.  

It dawns on me as I'm in the shower that I do know how to get ahold of her and I'm not sure why I didn't think about it before. Her fucking job. I’ll call the office. They have to forward the call to her! I rush to finish up and don't bother with pants as I run to my phone, scouring the web for her company's phone number.  

It's not like the places here in town where you call a number and a human answers. I go through three rounds of automated assholes before I even hear a real voice.  

“Affton Hart please,” I blurt the minute they start talking.  

“I’m sorry, sir, I can't patch you in to Mrs. Hart.” The guy on the line sounds like I'm asking for a million fucking dollars. I'm so goddamned close my hands are shaking.  

“Then her assistant.” I grin because I remember her assistant from when she responded to me online. I can work with that.  

“Please hold,” the man says, then I sit with hold music for too long. I have work that needs to be done, but this trumps everything on my list today and Brandt will understand why I'm late the minute he finds out the reason.  

“Affton Hart-Bower's office, can I help you?”  

My stomach drops at the name change. It wasn't like that a few weeks ago. I know for a fucking fact it wasn't like that before her trip home, which makes me even more worried this past month has been bad for her. If the man is the same type of boss as he is husband her work life is probably just as much hell as home life is. The thought makes my fist clench around the phone.  

“Hi, is this Diamond?” I only remember her name because she’s named after a rock. I’m really tryin' to put on the southern charm over this phone and I pray it's working.  

The line goes silent for a few minutes and I worry she's hung up. “It is,” she responds with intrigue. “And who's this?” Why does this girl sound like she knows who I am already?

“My name's Tommy Barns—” before I can continue her squeal of delight comes through the speaker.

“Oh, honey, where have you been the past few years? Damn, boy. Woo.” She's making all these breathy noises. “I know who you are. We've chatted online briefly, and then I looked into you a lil bit.” It seems she wasn't disappointed at least.

“Yeah, so...” I chuckle. “I'm prayin' you can help me with somethin' pretty top secret, ma'am.”  

“Oh, honey,” she whispers. “I can't put you through to Affton. She wouldn't take the call anyway.”

“Why not?” I blurt, clenching my fist again. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah...” Now she's confused. “Why wouldn't she be okay?”

“Can I ask how well you know Affton, Diamond?” I don't want to go blurting to her assistant how big of a fuck-wad her husband is. Especially since her husband is also that assistant's boss.  

“I've known her for the past five years. We're close.”

“So then you know my girl pretty well. And all I want to do is check in on her. I'd like to send her flowers, but her phone must be dead and she isn't responding to my messages.” I bite my lip and wince at that last part. It sounded way too desperate.  

“Mm-mm,” she says with doubt. “That's probably not a good idea, honey. She's a married woman and—” She abruptly stops talking. “Yes, sir, we have the textiles.” I roll my eyes, not having time for this. “Tommy?” she whispers.

“I just need an address, Diamond. And I'd owe you my life.”  

“I can't do that, honey. I could be fired. I don't know who you are and I get you and Affton had a pact...which...what was that pact?” The grin's back in her tone.

“That's awfully private, don't you think?” I can't help but smirk. She's not as stupid as I assumed she would be with that name. “Okay, so not an address. I understand and partially respect that. But you see, I'm here with her brother who's very worried about his sister. And without going into detail, I think you know why. So no address, I get it. But what about neighborhood. Or a picture of her house. Or maybe just have her call me,” I growl out the last, feeling like I'm getting nowhere with this lady and she's just keeping me on the phone to listen to me talk.

“Tell me the pact and I'll see what I can do. Private info for private info,” she offers and I sigh.  

“Fine,” I blurt. “I made a pact when she was twenty that if when she turned thirty-five and neither of us were married, she'd come home to me. To marry me.” I groan. “Diamond, I've been sitting in hell since the last time she came home and she won't reply to me. I just need to know she's okay. I gotta see her.” I gotta steal her and bring her back here with me, which will probably fuck with your job but I'm not going to tell you that.  

“That's probably because she's married, honey. West and twenty-third,” she blurts.

“Thank you. Fuck me, thank you so much.” The call ends abruptly and I scribble down the street intersection. Fuck yes! I hop on my bike and speed toward the ranch, praying Bo's there too because we have to get on the fucking road.  

I slide into the driveway almost sideways, dust billowing behind me. Barely having time to kick the stand down, I'm bolting out to the barn.  

“Brandt!” I bellow. “Bo! Garrison!” I search the barn but there's no one here so I head out to the field. “Bo!” I yell, seeing him at one of the old barns at the back of the field.  

“What the hell's all the ruckus? Where you been?” Brandt walks out of the barn and I almost jump out of my boots.  

“Fuck!” I screech. “I found her!”  

“Found who?” He wipes his hands on a rag and shoves it in his pocket.

Bo's making his way across the field and I feel like I could run the mile in a fucking minute I’m running on so much adrenaline.  

“I found her!” I scream out to him.  

“Who?” Brandt blurts again, hands on his hips as he watches Bo approach.  

“You found her?” Bo asks cautiously. “Alive?”

“Alive. Well, I think. Maybe not, but definitely at work so she's alive!” I jump in my place. “Come on, let's fucking go. Brandt, get in the fuckin' truck, we're gonna need you.” I look around. “We need more muscle.” My eyes go wide. “We need more guys, what if he's there? You got any guns? Shit, I should have brought my gun.”  

“What the fuck are we talking about?” Brandt yells over me.  

“Affton's in an abusive relationship.” Fuck that's the first time it's come out so easily. Brandt's eyes go wide. “Yeah. He's a dead fucking man. She came home for that funeral bloodied and bruised and the picture I saw on her phone was ten times worse. She's in deep, Brandt.”

“And you found her?”  

“I did,” I say. “I'm in love with a girl who's getting beat by her husband,” I growl. “We gotta get her out of that house but she's blocking us out and not answering. So I called and sweet-talked her assistant. Who, I think, has a thing for cowboys and is named Diamond.” I'm actually fucking smiling, even though I shouldn't be but I fucking found her!

“Brandt, I'm sorry, brother, but I have to go get my sister and bring her home,” Bo tells him.

Brandt scratches his head and glances toward his house. “I’m going too. I'm not letting you two assholes walk into this alone. You can fill me in on the details on the drive. What're we thinking, two, three hours? She's close, right?”  

“Eighteen hour drive there.” I blink and his eyes go wide as he nods.  

“Y’all are gonna drive eighteen hours there, and eighteen hours back? Wh...” He curses. “I'll go break it to Jo and let my dad know. When're we leaving?”  

“Now?” I blurt, glancing at Bo.  

“Where are we going?” Grant says, walking up behind us and fixing his ball cap. “Hey, fields about ready for me?” His eyes flash between the three of us. “What's going on, guys?”  

I groan, throwing my hands behind my neck. I never told him the story because retelling it is more painful each time. He’s gonna be upset, but he’ll get over it.

“Affton's in danger. We're driving to save her. Tonight. Right? Tonight?” I look at Bo again who's glaring at the grass.

“I'd prefer right this minute.” He looks from Brandt to me.

“I'll go break it to Jo,” Brandt blurts, jogging off toward the house.  

“Chase will be here soon,” I say, checking my phone.  

“Fuck yeah! Road trip! I got my gun. Do I need my gun?” Grant's expression is too much excitement for this and Bo groans.  

“Matthews, listen, it's my sister. His love interest.” He points to me. “Kenshaw's ex-crush. And Chase...I don't know what role he plays, but there are only five seats. We ain't fillin' them with five men and nowhere to put my sister.”

“She could sit on my lap.” Grant grins and I slap him as hard as I can on his head.  

“Fucker,” I blurt. “You ain’t comin'. Stay here and man the shop for Chase.”  

He rubs his head. “You guys suck.” He pouts and storms off toward the barn like a scorned child.  

“Let's roll!” Brandt yells, running out his back door just as Chase speeds into the drive.  

Bo storms to the truck on his phone, probably with Kinlee, but we're all ready. We pile in and the cab of this Denali feels ten times smaller with the four of us. The silence is thick until Brandt finally speaks up.  

“You're in love with her?” he asks me and Bo groans.

All I can do is nod and stare at the road. I'm not sure what it'll be like once we get there. I know she's going to fight us, but I'm sure she'll understand we're all here to keep her safe. She better.  

“Since kids,” I finally mutter.

“Seriously?” Brandt chuckles. “So when I fingered her in the barn—” Bo hits the brakes so hard it sends Brandt's face into the back of the driver’s seat.  

“Fuck, Hart!” He laughs.  

“I'll gut you, Brandt. I'll fucking gut you.” He reaches back and is wielding a knife. Chase is rolling with laughter while Brandt lunges against the door. “Don't talk about my sister, and don't talk about fingerin' a woman other than your wife.”

“Oh! The tables have fuckin' turned!” Chase laughs.  

“Everyone fucked Fi, Chase, get over it,” Brandt blurts. Bo takes off, stomping on the gas. “Okay, except for Bo.”  

“I didn't fuck her,” I say, glancing at my phone.  

I mean she probably set the record for most dudes fucked in this town,” Brandt mumbles, relaxing back in his seat. “Y’all are the only two she wouldn't go near!” He laughs and Chase slugs him in the arm. “Ow! Fuck, Haring, it's a joke, not a dick. Don't take it so hard!”  

The truck whips over and Bo's slamming on the brakes again. Throwing the truck in park, he jumps out and stomps around to Brandt's door. He yanks it open then rips him out. Slamming the door he then gets in the front seat, taking off again. I turn and watch Brandt standing in the road looking after us and eventually Bo stops the truck. Brandt runs up, grabbing the handle but Bo takes off again. We do this three more times before he gets the door open and Bo takes off, but he jumps in at the same time.

“Kenshaw, play the quiet game,” Bo says.

“Hell, you're uptight,” Brandt mutters. “Don't worry about your sister, Bo. We'll get her back and we'll kick this guy's ass that's doin’ this to her.” He reaches over and pats his friend's shoulder before sitting back. “This is gonna be a long fuckin' drive if we can't joke around, guys. I’m just sayin’.”  

That it is. We drive in silence for two full hours. I think Chase passed out and Brandt's been playing a game on his phone like a damn kid for the last hour.  

“Tommy, I know the track to California, but I'm gonna need an address in the GPS eventually.” Bo sighs like I'm dense. The guy really is wound up too tight.

“You know I'm two years older than you, right?” I glance at him. “Don't talk to me like I'm your kid. I’m not stupid, Bo… But I don't have an address.” I stare out the window to ignore the death glare he's probably giving me right now. “Eyes on the road, Bo.”  

The truck accelerates and I know that's his response instead of ripping me a new one for not completely having my shit together. I did say I found her, and I did...the generalized area.

“Wait, you don't know where she is? I thought you did know where she is? How the hell do you guys not know where she is? Isn't she mega famous or some hot shit? Shouldn't her address be all over Google?” Brandt rambles.

I roll my eyes. “You're really sounding like a dumb cowboy right about now, Brandt. People's addresses aren't just plastered online.”  

“Burger King's is,” he mumbles, making a whiny noise like he's mocking me.  

“That's a restaurant!” I bark.  

“Burger King is not a restaurant,” Chase counters. I fuckin' thought he was asleep! “Fast food is not a restaurant. Go to Vegas, boys. Get cultured.” I feel him shift in his seat behind me and his knees hit the back of my seat.  

“Who put the mammoth in the backseat?” I mutter, shaking my head and Bo finally starts laughing.  

“Chase, Vegas is the most American city in America! What the hell are you talking about culture! Y'all are dumb fucks! I've been to strip clubs in Colorado with more culture than Vegas!” Bo claims.

“Don't talk about other women like that, Bo. Respect your wife,” Brandt says in a tone that I think is supposed to mock Bo's comment from earlier.  

“I do respect my wife. And yours.” He winks back at Brandt. “Tommy, you know I used to date Jo?” Bo starts to laugh again.

“I guess there wasn't enough pussy to go around this place. When she got here? Y’all fought over her?”  

Brandt barks out a laugh then stops immediately. “Don't fuckin' talk about my wife like that.”  

Chase growls, sitting up. “You guys fuckin' suck. Can't a man sleep!” He shakes his head and flips his hat backwards. “I closed the fuckin' shop for this. Let me fuckin' sleep.”  

“Hey, Haring.” Bo keep glancing from the road to his phone. “Me and Kinlee stumbled upon this the other night. Tell me that doesn't look like Kaydence.” He hands Chase the phone and a second later the sounds of a woman getting plowed blasts through the speakers.

“Fuck.” Chase barks out a laugh. “Ain’t my girl. Her ass is way fuckin' better than that.” He cocks his head, watching the video. “Kay's way better in the sack.”  

“That's my fuckin' cousin!” Brandt punches his arm.  

“I'd make the sister joke, but I feel like that one's a little old.” Chase deadpans and the entire cab of the truck goes silent other than the noise of the girl's moans from the video.  

Well this is awkward.  

“You ever fucked your sister, Chase?” Brandt asks, dead fuckin' serious.  

“Gross! No! What? Fuck!” Chase ends the video and shoves the phone back at Bo. “Fuck, Kenshaw, you're a freak.”  

Brandt falls silent, shrugging at Chase, and types away on his phone. The truck goes silent again and Bo finally turns on music. I wanted to do that earlier, but this truck's too nice for me. I have no goddamned clue what half the buttons on the dash do.  

“Yes!” Brandt screams out, scaring the shit out of all of us when he hits Bo's seat in victory.  

“The hell's wrong with you?” Bo grumbles, glancing back at him.

“I told you everything's on the internet!” He shoves the phone to the front seat and I snatch it from his hands.  

“Holy shit, dude.” I show Bo the screen. “He found it!”  

“So you can thank me now.” Brandt smiles smugly, arms crossed in front of him.  

“You're more than just good looks. How about that?” Chase pats him on the head. “Good boy.”  

“You two want a moment?” Bo dryly asks. “Can someone put the fuckin' address in GPS?”

I type the address in immediately and the Australian man comes over the speakers, updating our trip status.  

“Dude,” Chase says, eyebrows high. “Your GPS is set to the sexy male voice?”  

“Bo, is there something you gotta tell us?” Brandt's eyes are wide and there's a stupid ass grin on his face.  

“I'm okay with dudes who like dudes. I'll throw that out there,” I say, shrugging.  

Bo cocks his eyebrow as he looks over at me. “Care to elaborate? Or you just got gay pride? 'Cause you said it like that's more your thing.”

“Oh no. I like women. Particularly thick women. I like my girls with a little more meat on their bones and curve to their ass.” I forget momentarily who I'm sitting by and the back seat falls silent.  

“Dude, you got any popcorn for this?” Chase whispers to Brandt.  

“Barns, you've already dug the first three feet of your grave. You digging the last three? 'Cause I'll bury you in one of these cornfields and make them help.” Bo thumbs back toward Brandt and Chase.

“Sorry,” I mumble, feeling again like a scorned child. How the hell does he do that?  

“You know, Bo. You and your sister looked awfully alike back in the day. Like twins.” Brandt's eyes flick from me to Bo and he grins.  

“That's why you fingered her, huh? Thinkin' ‘bout that best friend that wouldn't give it up to ya?” Chase blurts, cackling.  

“Bo would have me! Wouldn't you, Bo?” Brandt laughs.

“Goddammit,” he growls and everything starts to quiet down. “You're the first person I'd go to if I turned gay, Kenshaw.”

Brandt reaches up to the front seat and rests his hand on Bo's shoulder. “Same here, brother.” He winks at me and leans back in his seat. “I'm hungry. And I have to piss.”  

“We've only been driving for three hours, Kenshaw. Hold it. I'll stop in fifteen.” He glances back. “Hours.”

“I got a cup if you need to piss,” Chase says, handing over a large Styrofoam cup.  

“Awe, thanks!” Brandt takes it and opens the window, tossing it out. “I know it's just a ploy for you to stare at my dick. I’m not sure how much Jo would appreciate that.”  

“I see where I stand. Always the third wheel.” He shakes his head, grinning. “Bo, you want me to drive so Kenshaw can piss? Apparently he's okay with you looking at his dick.”  

Bo turns the music up and cracks his window to drown them out even more.

When you're on a mission the drive always feels like it takes forever to get where you want to be. The country has been gone for a couple hours and all that's been around us is one city after another and a fuck ton of cars slowing us down. We eventually stop for food and gas and when the four of us walk into the convenience store the entire place seems to fall silent.  

“Mornin'“ I say, winking at the cashier.  

“Howdy!” Brandt says, like he's had about twelve Red Bulls. “Bathroom?” He points toward the walls of the store and the clerk blinks a few times before handing over a key on a long stick.  

“Out back,” she murmurs.

Brandt's eyebrows push together and he takes it between two fingers. ”I should have fuckin' pissed in the cup,” he mumbles, walking out the door and heading around back.  

Chase heads for the energy drinks, I grab an arm full of food, and Bo's getting a cup of coffee.  

“You want me to drive this stretch so you can sleep?” I ask Bo, tossing our shit on the counter. The clerk's still watching us with wide eyes and I smile at her again. What the hell's her problem?  

“I'll sleep once my sister's safe. Put one twenty on pump six, sweetheart.”

She giggles and her cheeks turn pink.

Walking over to Chase who's filling his arms with energy drinks, I grab a few and nod toward the counter. “Girl's staring at you.”  

“Four hot cowboys just walked in the front door. This is probably the most action she's gotten in a few months.” He walks over to her and sets the drinks down. “Put it on his tab, would ya?” He nods to Bo.

“Sure,” she says, smiling and tucking her hair behind her ear.  

Bo glares over at Chase a minute then looks at the girl behind the counter. “Might as well wait for Kenshaw,” he grumbles.

“Guys, I think my boots got herpes in there,” he bitches, bursting through the door. “New York wasn't even that bad!” He walks over to the counter. “There ya go, sweetheart.” He winks at her and his eyes go wide when he walks past us and goes straight for the hand sanitizer.  

He scrubs his arms and hands then tosses the bottle on the counter before heading back for food. Silently we watch him as he fills a basket with chips, a jar of peanut butter, and cookies. He sets it on the counter and smiles at her.  

“Add this to this guy's bill. Thanks.”  

“Um...” She looks at Bo in question.

He nods and sighs. “What's the damage?”

“One hundred ninety three forty seven,” she says, eyes wide.  

“Wait!” Chase blurts, grabbing a fucking fidget spinner and tossing it on the counter. “Y’all want one?”  

I blink a few times. Grown fucking men, buying themselves toys. This shit's not important right now! This is all just wasting time!

“Yes!” Brandt reaches down and grabs two. “Tommy?”  

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”  

“Bo?” Brandt's smiling and Bo looks like he's about to explode when he gives his head a tight shake.  

“So two hundred dollars and three cents.” The clerk clears her throat and Bo slides his card to pay.  

She bags everything for us and can't wipe the giddy smile off her face when we thank her and head out to the truck.  

“You've got so many cup holders in this fuckin' truck!” Brandt blurts. “Jo wants a mom van for all the cup holders.”  

“Fuck no she doesn't. Really?” Chase laughs.  

“Naw. But I'm trying to make her believe she does. It'd be way easier carting all our kids around.”  

“Ain’t Annie almost old enough to start driving herself?” Chase asks, taking a bite of some questionable taco thing he bought.  

“Fuck no. She's still got a few years.” Brandt cracks open an energy drink and chugs it.  

“Alright, fellas,” Bo says, getting in after pumping for almost ten minutes. “Who's goin' in for the change? Filled up at one twelve. I'd go in, but she kept lookin' at my dick.”

“I don't want to be raped,” Chase mumbles.  

Brandt touches his nose. “Not it!”

“The three of us are happily married. Tommy maybe you can take her to that bathroom.” Chase wiggles his eyebrows.

Brandt groans. “Fuck. That' fuckin' room was so gross.”

“I’m not goin' in! She saw I didn't have one of y’alls fancy rings on! She licked her lips I don’t know how many times when I caught her lookin' at me!”  

Bo floors it out of the lot. “She can keep the change. This dick's my last hope of getting my sister home.” He thumbs toward me. “He ain't fuckin' some gas station girl in the nasty bathroom.”

“So I'm allowed to fuck your sister then?” I wiggle my eyebrows and realize it's still too soon to joke with him when he punches me in the chest. “Got it,” I rasp. “I deserved that. Hell, Hart, why you have to put everything you had in that?” I rub my chest and wince. “I'm tellin' Affton you beat me up.”  

The truck falls silent the minute the words come from my lips. Bo's hands are tight on the steering wheel and the only thing you can hear is the crunching of potato chips from the back seat. I shouldn't have joked like that. We shouldn't even be having fun on this drive. Not when the reason for this drive is something that makes our blood boil.  

“Hey, so when we get there, let me go to the door first, okay?” I say and Bo cocks his eyebrow, looking over at me, but he doesn't respond. “Last time she saw you she was convinced you hated her and never wanted to see her again.” I tell him. “And Chase, no offense but you're the least qualified one to win her back. Brandt... Just...stay away from her.” I glance back at him and he's on his second energy drink already. “And your heart's going to explode.”  

“Don’t worry about mine and my sister's relationship, Barns,” Bo grumbles. “You can go to the door, but the second I see the dead-man, I'm delivering that title.”

He's going to be sorely mistaken, but I'll let him think he's running this show. All I know is her husband doesn't stand a chance against the four of us.  

By the time we make it, after a few more stops for gas and Brandt's child-sized bladder, it's eight in the morning and I haven't slept a wink. Our GPS brought us right to her street and my heart tightens in my chest when I see her car parked out front.  

“She's here,” I whisper, unsure if I'm going to be able to make it to her front door on my own two legs.  

Bo parks the truck without a word and kills the engine.  

“We're not letting you walk up there alone,” Chase finally says, staring at her house. A huge fucking house. With a car out front that costs more than my house.

I let out a puff of air and look over at Bo. ”You bring your gun?”  

He lifts his t-shirt, showing the nine-millimeter on his hip.

“Good,” I clip, popping the door open the same time the other three do. “Let's do this.”  

Every step to her front door makes my feet feel like lead. I'm not sure what I’m going to do when she opens that door. And I really hope it's her that opens it, because if Corey opens it he's a dead man immediately and I'd rather get my girl first.  

I raise my fist to grab hold of the gold knocker on her blue front door and slam it against the metal plate four times. As soon as I let go, Brandt reaches around me and pushes the white doorbell ringer five or six times.  

“Kenshaw, you smell like ass,” I grumble, shoving him away.

Chase snickers but stops immediately at the look I give him.  

It takes forever for that front door to open, but when it does my heart soars. She's here. She's got a face full of makeup, but from what I learned that means nothing when it comes to how he's been treating her. Her hair's back in a tiny ponytail and the oversized sweater she's wearing is pushed up to her elbows...

“Shit,” I whisper once my eyes hit the bruising up her arms.  

“Jesus Christ,” she murmurs.