Chapter 48
CHAPTER 48
CASSIDY
I was never so happy to replace a line of fencing. Repairing fences sucked. It was hard work and always left my shoulders sore. Usually, my hands got cut up from fighting with the barbed wire. It was just a shit job in general. But today, I was happy to do it. I was enjoying the manual labor. Getting to dig a hole and then slam a post in the ground was better than a workout.
I drove the fence post into the dirt with a strength I didn’t know I had. Each slam of the post pounder brought out a satisfying thud as it lowered into the soft earth. There was so much going on in my head, all I could do was pound.
Rage twisted inside me. Ever since I’d left Karen’s room, everything I touched felt like it would shatter. I kept thinking about her face, how she’d looked at me, eyes brimming with hurt when I couldn’t find the words.
My own hurt was tearing through me like a wildfire in a dry forest. Everyone in my world knew about what I supposed could only be called a mistake. But as much as I knew knocking up a woman was a mistake, something to be avoided, there was the strangest feeling inside me. I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was like reading something in a foreign language. It refused to make sense.
I start digging the next hole, pushing my frustration into each motion. I stomped on the head of the shovel, driving it into the ground. With every forceful action, I was trying to dull the knot of regret and anger that constricted my heart.
I was used to roughing it. I was used to working my ass so hard I fell into bed at night and didn’t move until the sun was cracking over the horizon to start it all over again. I didn’t have time to care about anyone, let alone a baby.
What kind of man was I? Certainly not father material. I didn’t know the first thing about taking care of kids. I wasn’t a role model. I had zero to offer. My own parents realized they were failures and dumped me as soon as I took my first breath.
I tossed the shovel aside and stood still for a moment, letting the cool wind brush over my sweaty skin. My chest heaved up and down. I gazed out at the vast landscapes of the ranch. I didn’t have a pot to piss in. What did I have to offer a child? Not good genes. Not wisdom and love. Not even a fucking home.
I walked over to my water bottle, flipped the lid, and took a long drink. It was probably forty degrees, but with the way I had been working, it felt like a hundred. I was a sweaty mess.
My neck was stiff. My shoulders felt like they were going to snap, and my hands were raw and burning from the day’s work. But worse than the physical discomfort was the gnawing emptiness. I had broken Karen’s heart and it was killing me.
The anger, hurt, and desperation in her eyes haunted me.
My mind wandered back to that conversation. Our words had been swords. I didn’t think she truly meant to hurt me, but she did. My own words were clumsy, brutal, and sharp edged, cutting deeper than intended. But what had hurt more was what went unsaid. I didn’t know how to say what I was feeling. My default was running. Get the fuck away from the problem.
I gulped down more water and tossed the bottle on the ground. It was time to get back to the fence. I picked up the shovel and started digging. My mind was a war zone, filled with more questions than answers. Questions about things I’d never considered until now. Was I scared? Yes, scared as hell. Was I ready for this? Hell no. Would anyone in their right mind think I was fit to be a father? That was a joke. The thought that I could screw up another life like my own was unbearable.
I felt real fear at the idea of bringing a kid into the world. The kind of fear that made me reassess every decision I had ever made. I didn’t want to do to a kid what my parents did to me. Even if I did get my mother’s vast estate, that didn’t magically make me a good father. But I could at least provide financial security for the child.
I heard a car engine coming down the road. Not a truck—a car, which was rare out here, especially during the early spring. The potholes were big enough to swallow anything smaller than a sedan. I tipped my hat up and looked to see who was dumb enough to make the trip out here.
“Shit.”
Earl Hoyt.
His fancy silver car pulled up. The slick car was a sign of money well spent, or wasted, depending on how you looked at it. I went back to what I was doing. I wasn’t going to deal with him. Not today. The last thing I needed was an encounter with that viper.
He stepped out of his car, brandishing a smile that made my stomach turn. He was dressed immaculately in a navy blue suit, looking entirely out of place out here. He always did. I was absolutely certain he was half-lizard. Or maybe half-snake.
“Well, well,” he called out, slamming his car door shut. “Don still has you doing grunt work, huh?”
“Work is work.” I kept my eyes on the fence post, my jaw tightening.
Earl strutted over like he owned the place. “I always knew you’d amount to shit, Cassidy. But seeing you now? You turned out even worse than I figured. You’ll be doing this kind of work until the day you die. You’ll die with nothing but that ugly fucking hat on your head.”
I picked up a post and slammed it into the hole instead of his face.
Earl laughed, a nasty, mocking sound. “Oh, come on now,” he said. “Take it easy. I’m just fucking with you.”
I looked up then, letting my glare meet his. “Fuck off, Earl. I’m not in the mood for your particular brand of bull shit.”
But he stayed where he was, giving me that same smug look. I could practically feel the sneer radiating off him.
“No, I’m actually here to talk about my boy.” His icy tone carried a hint of a threat. “Carson.”
That caught my attention. “What about him?” I asked. I was going to try to play it cool, but I had a feeling I knew where this was going. He knew about my call to CPS.
He stepped close enough for me to catch a whiff of his pungent cologne. “Stay the hell away from Carson,” he said, his voice low and laced with venom. “He’s my boy, and if he ever sets foot on this ranch again, he’s going to get a lesson I gave you three dozen times over when you were a pipsqueak like him.”
He held up his knuckles, his large ring catching the sunlight as he brandished it like a weapon, flashing a sadistic grin. “I’ve never laid a hand on him. Not yet, but he’s turning into a smart mouth like his mother, and I won’t stand for that. So if I hear you’ve whispered anything in his ear, mark my words, Cassidy—I’ll level you.”
My blood boiled. The years of contempt, anger, and resentment I’d felt for this man bubbled up, threatening to spill over. But instead, I smiled. A slow, hard smile. “You’re a bad father, Earl, and an even worse person. Weak men like you will always have a need to hurt others to make up for your own shortcomings. And if you threaten me again, I’ll show you what it’s like to fight a man—not a boy.”
That did it. Earl lunged forward, fists swinging. I was ready for him. He had made my childhood a living hell. I was a scrawny kid back then but not anymore. I blocked his first punch, then threw one of my own. My fist connected with his jaw, sending vibrations up my arm. He staggered back, eyes dazed for a moment. Then they blazed with a mixture of anger and, to my satisfaction, a flicker of fear. He wasn’t used to his victims fighting back.
Earl cursed as he got his balance. “You’ve done it now,” he spat.
“Not yet I haven’t,” I taunted, flexing my fingers. “Come at me again and I will. Give me a fucking reason to end you.”
He charged toward me, letting out an incoherent yell. He got a few good licks in before I grabbed him and sent him crashing into the barbed wire fence behind me. Earl howled as the barbs ripped at his hands and arms. Growling, he pushed himself up and turned around slowly, seeming to realize for the first time that he was outmatched.
“I’ll kill you,” he hissed under his breath and hurled himself again at me with all the pent-up rage of a wounded animal. But there was no finesse or skill in his assault, just blind fury. He wasn’t the only one that had some pent-up fury.
I was done with his smug comments, his threats, and the way he treated everyone around him, Carson included. Earl was the perfect outlet for every ounce of anger, frustration, and confusion inside me.
I sidestepped his clumsy jab and punched him in the ribs. He held his side and limped away from me, out of range.
“Where you going, Earl?” I taunted, circling him. “You can’t kill me from over there. Come closer and take your fucking medicine.”
He growled and came at me again, throwing another punch that I absorbed with my arm. Then I slammed my fist into his gut with a satisfying thud. He doubled over, gasping for air. But he didn’t stop trying to come for me. Earl was nothing if not stubborn, even when he was clearly losing.
He managed to stand up and throw a few more punches, landing one on my kidney that was probably going to have me pissing blood for a few days.
I shoved him off me. He stumbled back and, to my surprise, he picked up the shovel. I felt a spike of adrenaline. A dangerous look was in his eyes. He seemed to have misplaced his sanity or had allowed himself to be swallowed by hatred.
“Careful, Earl, or I’ll use that shovel to bury you where you stand,” I said. “No one will mourn you or care.”
He lunged at me, wielding the tool like a makeshift spear. I easily grabbed just above the shovel head and jerked hard, taking it out of his hand. As tempting as it was to crack his skull with it, I tossed it to the side. He wasn’t worth the hassle.
I grabbed him by the collar of his expensive suit and pulled him in close. “You don’t scare me, you limp-dick asshole,” I said, my voice low and controlled. “Not anymore. And you don’t scare Carson either. He’s not the kid you think he is.”
He looked up at me, and for the first time, I saw a hint of something else in his eyes. Real, genuine fear. Good.
With a shove, I sent him sprawling in the mud, messing up his fancy clothes. Earl looked up at me, his face pale, his bravado gone. He was at my mercy. Lucky for him, I was a better man than he was.
I leaned down and poked my finger into his chest. “Get off this ranch, Earl. And don’t come back. You’re not welcome here. Next time, I’ll consider it trespassing, and you know what happens to trespassers out here.”
Earl glared at me, his lips pulled back in a snarl, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he scrambled to his feet, tail between his legs, and stalked back to his car. Getting in, he slammed the door with a force that shook the frame. He revved the engine, then spat blood out the window at me before speeding off, his tires kicking up gravel.
I watched him go, my fists still clenched, my pulse still racing. That had been close.
I ran a hand through my hair, glancing back at the fence post I’d been working on, now leaning to the side in the middle of the field from where Earl had hit it. I looked at my hands. My knuckles were bruised. My palms were filled with splinters.
Totally worth it.