Redemption (Cowgirls Do It Better #1)

PROLOGUE

Jack

12 YEARS AGO

“I wish you’d never been born!”

Words every son wants to hear on their eighteenth birthday, I know, but that was how my family rolled, I guess.

It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that and it wouldn’t be the last either. The last time would be saved for a more special, even more perfect moment. The kind you never forget…but this time, well, those words kinda led to that moment.

“Same!” I shouted back, spit flying from my mouth in my drunken state. I stared at my mother, too young to know how to look after herself, let alone parent me. Her brown hair hung limp around her shoulders and her eyes were red-rimmed. Clearly she was as drunk as I was. My excuse though: I was celebrating.

Today I was eighteen. I’d been waiting for this day for the longest time. Ready to move out and abandon this rundown shack. For far too long I’d been dreaming of leaving this damn place, leaving behind the parents who raised me against their will and starting out on my own.

“Git the hell outta here, Jack ass . And don’t come back!” Dad shouted, stumbling up next to my mom. Ah Jackass, the wonderful nickname they’d given me, how I wouldn’t miss it.

Bitterness twisted in my gut at the way Dad wrapped his arm around Mom’s shoulders, the solidarity they occasionally showed each other but never me. When my only crime was being born.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I ducked past them and stumbled into my bedroom clumsily. It wasn’t just the alcohol sloshing in my veins that made me clumsy. I’d always felt too big in my body. I was a little slow on the growth spurt but when it happened, it happened quick and sometimes I felt like I was still new to my own body.

I tripped over the jeans I’d dumped on the floor and fell onto the bed, rubbing my hands over the comforter to find my phone. I grabbed it and held it up in front of my face, the bright light of the screen too harsh.

“Ssh,” I hissed at the screen, then laughed at myself. I tapped at it and brought up Scotty’s number.

“Yo, yo, birthday bro! How’s the day going?” Scotty answered. He wasn’t what I would call my ride-or-die, like so many people had. But we were pals, we liked some of the same things and we could let off steam together.

“Fucking shit, as usual. I need to leave, parents are parenting hard today and I need out, man. You free?”

“Yeah, sure thing. Only my dad’s borrowed my car since his crapped out so you gotta come get me.”

I sighed. “I can’t man, I’m buzzed.”

“Shit.” Scotty clucked his tongue like a mother hen. “How buzzed?”

“Pretty buzzed, I ain’t gonna lie.”

“It’s not far though, what like a ten-minute drive and most of it is the back road past the ranches. You could do it.”

I opened my mouth to tell him I couldn’t do it, but loud shouts and screaming from the living room erupted and I knew my parents were having one of their showstopping fights. I wanted to be anywhere else for that.

“I dunno, man.”

“Eat some coffee grounds, splash some water on your face and you’ll be fine. Besides it’s late and in the middle of nowhere, no one will be out this time of night.”

Scotty had a point. There was a loud smash and I turned my head towards the door. Despair hit me hard and had tears prickling the backs of my eyes. Oh shit no, we’re not doing this. I inhaled sharply and slapped my cheek.

“Okay, gimme five and I’ll leave.” I ended the call and pulled my boots on. Glancing in the cracked mirror, I gave my cheeks a pinch. Several deep breaths later and I was feeling a bit more alert.

I opened my door and sped into the kitchen, wanting to avoid the firing line, and splashed some water on my face from the faucet. I dug through the cabinets but there were no coffee grounds, nothing.

“Shit,” I groaned. I chugged some water and grabbed my black leather jacket from the table and went out the back, trying to avoid the Parents of the Year .

The keys jangled in my hand as I unlocked my pride and joy, a 1980s Ford truck. It had been ready for scrapping but I’d worked hard at my after-school job and saved up for it, hoping to restore it.

I jumped in, winding the window down to let the cool spring air inside the cab. I took a few more deep breaths and started the engine. The truck stalled and then roared to life. I revved the engine a few times to get her going, she was a slow starter in her old age.

The screen door on the porch banged open and in my rearview mirror, I saw my father come flying out, tripping over old plant pots on the porch, cussing and shouting.

“Jackass! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He stumbled again and came after me.

I wanted to ease into the drive, still not feeling one hundred percent sober but I had to get out of there before he got hold of me. He didn’t try to hit me anymore, now that I was bigger than him. When I was sixteen, he made that mistake once and never tried it again. And goddammit I still felt guilty about hitting him back and didn’t wanna have to do that again, even if he was a piece of shit.

I put the truck in gear, the clutch resisting but I forced her. “Come on girl, not tonight,” I groaned and then she was off. Something bounced off the bed of the truck and a glance in my mirror told me it was my dad’s shoe. He was screaming after me, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying, not that I even cared.

The scent of freshly cut grass and wildflowers came in through the window as I headed down my road and onto the main strip. I had to blink a few times, my eyes wouldn’t focus properly when streetlights glared but I’d be good once I was out in the rolling fields and ranches where the streetlights were few and far between.

The road changed to dirt and gravel. I released a breath, knowing I was away from the most populated areas. Not long, and I would be at Scotty’s and then I could sober up before the drive home. If I even decided to go back.

My phone rang in my jacket pocket, I pulled it out and saw Scotty was calling me. I fumbled to answer, my eyes flicking to the road then my phone slipped from my grip.

“Fuck!” I growled, lunging forward to grab it and knocking it under my seat.

“Jack?” I could hear Scotty’s voice coming from under the seat, all muffled and a little bit Darth Vadery, or was that the alcohol making him sound like that? I patted the floor, trying to keep my eyes on the road. My fingers brushed the edge of the phone but I just needed a bit more space.

I took my eyes off the road.

For one moment.

And that was all it took.

When I straightened, phone in hand, I had a split second before the flash of blonde hair appeared and then the most sickening sound I’ve ever heard in my life.

Screaming. So much screaming.

It was coming from me.