43. Romy
43
romy
“ H ow in the hell did this happen?” I asked, shoving my feet into boots and throwing one of Jude’s hoodies over my head. His scent engulfed me, souring my stomach, but I took a steadying breath, shoving it down deep. I’d deal with all that bullshit later.
“Someone had to let them all out,” Lina panted.
“All twenty-eight horses?”
She shook her head, and I followed her out the double-wide into the dark. The night was still, except for the sounds of crickets. We ran, our boots pounding into the soil as we hustled toward the stables.
“Did Reed not hear anyone?” I asked.
The bunkhouse was literally right next door to the stables. If he heard something spook the horses, he would have been right there.
I thought Lina would reply with her typical fucking Reed comment, but instead, her face was pale in the moonlight.
“Something’s not right.” Lina huffed as we ran.
A horse ran past as we neared the stables. I could see the whites of her eyes as she cantered by.
“Fuck! They’re spooked. This is going to take forever to calm them down enough to round them back up,” I commented.
“Go to the stables, turn on all the lights, and have all the stalls open and ready. Dad, Reed, and I will start going after the older ones—they usually won’t go too far from their beds this late at night.”
I nodded, jogging toward the stables.
With the clopping of hooves, I turned to see the silhouettes of horses in the dark. Some managed to jump the fence into the paddock, while others were scattering down the dirt road or adjacent fields. Chuck, Reed, and a couple of other ranch hands stretched their hands wide trying to round them up, lassos ready at their belts.
Reaching the stables, I flicked on each switch, illuminating one end to the other. Every door hung open as if someone had run through, flipping the latch of each stall.
“What the fuck?” I whispered. Who would have done this … and why?
“Where is it, Romy?”
His tired slur came from behind me, and I spun around.
My father stepped out of the shadows.
“Shit! Dad! What the hell? Did you do this?”
I hadn’t seen Frank since the day he came stumbling drunk onto the ranch, yelling at me. He looked as though he’d been dragged through the mud. His hair was disheveled, and deep grooves lined his eyes. Of course he was drunk; I could smell the stench of cheap beer wafting off him.
“We need it.”
“What are you talking about? Did you fucking let all the horses out? Why would you do this? How did you do this?”
“Bronte trusts me,” he said simply.
“So you thought you could just come onto private property and do whatever the fuck you wanted?” I was pissed! Not only did I have to hear Jude’s ex answer his phone, but now I had hours of rounding up horses because of Frank’s drunk ass.
I could feel my blood boiling. “Chuck!” I yelled. We needed to call the police. He needed to be dropped in the drunk tank, at the very least.
Cold, hard metal pressed against my temple, followed by a loud click on my ear.
I sucked in a breath.
I knew before I even looked to my left who stood there, a gun held to my head.
“Yell again, and we’ll have a bigger problem,” Junior hissed.
“Not only are you trespassing, but you’re also ignoring the restraining order,” I blurted out, side-eyeing him. Junior’s hat was pulled low over his face, shadowing his eyes, but I could see the twitch of his lip, the slight hesitation.
“We’re not going to hurt you, Romy,” Frank said.
“Speak for yourself, old man,” quipped Junior as he spat on the ground by my boots.
Frank looked unsure, shuffling on his feet. Frank Miller was mean, a drunk, and narcissistic, but he would never raise a hand to Hazel or me.
“We just need something of Hazel’s,” Frank explained, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. “She told me it was in the stables. She just didn’t tell me where.”
Shit! Hazel told Frank, too. I groaned. If I could move without freaking Junior out, I would have palmed my face.
“Get the gun out of my face, Junior, and maybe I can help you.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands. Going to the cops. I told you not to talk.”
“I didn’t say shit. I just wanted you to stay away from me.”
Does this mean he was the one who sold the story?
“Were you the one who leaked the story with that YouTube channel?” I asked.
“I wish, but the story was already in the local news. It was only a matter of time before it all came out. Good timing, though, huh?”
I scoffed.
“No. I thought your dad would be of some help. He doesn’t believe his precious angel is capable of such evil, so he was willing to prove me wrong by bringing me here.”
“Dad, really?” I pinned him with my best glare.
“We better hurry before they rein in the horses.” Frank shuffled on his feet again, obviously uncomfortable and slightly off-balance.
The barrel of Junior’s gun pushed against my face. I sucked in a breath, my heart starting to kick up. Fear finally washed over me like hot wax.
“Where is it, Romy?” Junior’s voice burned against my ear.
I shuddered at his nearness.
“Bronte’s stall.”
I didn’t think Junior would use his gun, but I wasn’t about to test that theory. I just hoped someone walked in here before he decided to try it out on me.
“Slowly now,” Junior ordered, shoving me forward.
I stumbled but quickly found my footing, heading over to Bronte’s stall.
“It’s in the corner, there. Beneath a loose board.”
Junior jerked his chin, telling Frank to go for it, while he still pointed his gun at me. He knelt, brushing the dust and hay away from the corner until he could pry his fingers around the board. He huffed and heaved, but in his drunken stupor, he was mostly useless.
“I can get it, Dad,” I said as calmly as I could, but I gulped at the tremble in my voice. I didn’t want to be scared. Not in front of this asshole.
“Do it, then,” Junior said, pushing me forward again.
I knelt beside Frank. He shifted just enough to give me room, but his eyes were pleading with me. He might have set out to do this, but now doubt was settling in as the alcohol dissipated.
Prying up the board, I pulled out the shoebox Hazel had stowed away.
I peeked over at Frank one more time, his eyes drooping with worry and sadness, before I lifted the lid. All the cash was still there. And so was the note and cell phone.
I gave Frank a subtle nod, swiping the cell phone while he pocketed the note. He took the box from my hands and passed it over to Junior.
Shoving his gun into the back of his waistband, he ran his hand over the wads of cash.
“Is this everything?”
I shrugged. “That’s all there was when I found it.”
“Huh,” was all he said, still digging through the box as if more would appear. “This must be the money she stole from Jesse. He intended to send it to my family, but we never received it.”
“That’s what I told you must have happened to the money,” Frank said, heaving off the floor.
Junior pursed his lips, nodding. “I knew it was either her or the Larsens who were stiffing him.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I forced myself to hold still.
“All they’ve ever done is take from us. I knew it had been a mistake for Jesse to come work here. At least I’m finally getting his cut.”
Horse hooves neared, and I could hear Chuck calling commands.
“You better get going, Junior,” I advised.
He tucked the box beneath his arm. “It was nice doing business with you.” He saluted before heading out the back of the stable.
Chuck’s voice got closer, followed by Lina’s and what sounded like the clopping of three horses.
I helped Frank to his feet just as they came around the corner. Chuck and Lina’s eyes went wide, standing between the horses they had lassoed.
“What the hell is this?” Chuck’s voice was rigid.
“We need to call 9-1-1. Junior was just here,” I told them.
The whites of Lina’s eyes shone brightly like the horses’. “That fucking asshole did this? I’m going to fucking kill him.”
Chuck shot a look at his daughter before turning to my father. “Frank, please tell me you didn’t have something to do with this?”
Frank’s shoulders slumped. “I fucked up.”
I gripped his shoulder before saying to Chuck, “A drunken decision.”
Chuck’s jaw ticked, but he nodded before walking away with the horses in tow.
“Mocha, hazelnut latte with coconut milk, and an iced coffee for me,” Sage announced, doling out the coffee orders while we sat huddled beneath blankets in the living room of the double-wide.
It took all night to get the horses back in their stalls and settled. Chuck said he’d cancel the trail rides for today. The horses needed the rest as much as we did. Even when most of the horses were back in the stable, the cops were still asking questions. Last I heard, Junior still hadn’t been arrested. He was on the run with a gun and a shoebox of money. Frank turned himself in, but Chuck insisted he didn’t want to press charges.
“Twenty-four hours in the drunk tank should be enough for now,” Chuck said.
I didn’t realize I was shivering until Lina pulled me into a hug, gripping me as hard as her little body could squeeze. She insisted on coming back to our house.
I still hadn’t heard from Jude, and I wasn’t sure I really wanted to talk to him. Chuck and Lina also tried calling him, but their calls went straight to voicemail. I was officially spiraling, thinking his silence meant the worst—that he was doubting our love, finding it with Jessica instead, and trying to decide an easy way to break it to me. I tried to remind myself that this was the lack of sleep and the eventful night getting to me.
Lina immediately called in backup in the form of Sage and caffeine.
I wrapped my numb fingers around the warm, paper coffee cup, staring into the wafting steam.
“Has anyone heard from him?” Sage asked.
Lina and I both shook our heads. This didn’t sit right with her, either. But I wasn’t about to tell her he was with Jessica.
“We need to tell him so he knows what happened.” Lina rubbed my shoulder.
“No. We’re not telling him shit,” I grumbled, taking a tentative sip of coffee. The hot liquid was like a balm to my soul, and I almost hummed with pleasure if it wasn’t for my attempt to hold the tears at bay.
“He’s going to ask how the horses got out when he finds out.” Lina continued to rub my shoulder blade.
“You can tell him my drunk dad is a shitty asshole. That won’t be news to him. But we’re not telling him about Junior. He has to focus on this fight, and with all the bullshit the press is giving him, this is the last thing he needs to worry about. At least for now.”
He may have been breaking my heart at the moment, but I wasn’t about to distract him from the potential fight of his career.
Lina and Sage both gave defeated sighs.
“What the hell was Junior looking for? Did he find it?” Sage asked.
I had broken down the main points of what happened with Junior on the trail and with Jude and I going to the cops to submit a restraining order, but I hadn’t told them about the box.
“Hazel had a stash of cash with …” I didn’t know if I should tell them about the note that was now with Frank. “With a cell phone.” I shuffled my coffee to one hand to stuff my hand into my pajama pocket.
Sage’s eyes went wide. “Does it work?”
I pressed the power button on the side of the iPhone. “It’s dead.”
“Do you have a charger?” Lina asked, jumping from her seat beside me.
“Yeah, on the bedside table,” I called because Lina was already down the hall heading to the bedroom.
Without a word, Lina hustled back, finding the nearest outlet and plugging in the charger. I passed the phone to her, and she connected it.
We sat in silence, sipping our coffees, waiting for it to light back up. It seemed to take forever, but within minutes, the screen flashed on. We all huddled on the ground near the outlet, the blankets gathered around us, our coffees abandoned on the coffee table.
The passcode pad flashed on the screen.
“Shit.” I tried her birthday. Nothing. I tapped in my birthday and Frank’s. Still not correct. Last try. I punched in Mom’s birthdate. The lock screen disappeared, revealing the home screen.
“Look at the messages,” Lina suggested.
I opened the message app, but it was empty.
“Huh. She could have deleted them,” she said.
“What about the call history?” Sage queried.
There was one phone number in the call history, and it was only outgoing. There didn’t appear to be any incoming calls.
“Maybe call the number and see who it is?” Lina shrugged.
My fingers trembled too badly.
“Here.” Lina took the phone from me, hitting the number and putting it on speaker.
The quiet living room filled with the sound of ringing while we held our breaths.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Then an audible click and a woman’s voice came over the line. “Sanctuary Ranch and Rescue, this is Desiree. How can I help you?”
We all exchanged looks over the phone. Lina’s brow furrowed in confusion, but Sage’s jaw fell open in surprise.
“Hello?” Desiree asked again over the line.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Desiree, I think we got the wrong number,” I said quickly before hitting the end button.
“What the fuck is Sanctuary Ranch?” Lina probed.
Sage’s teeth clacked together when her mouth closed. She looked pale. “It’s a place for rescued horses and … battered women.”
Lina and I both stared at Sage. We didn’t know much about her past relationships, other than she didn’t “do cowboys.”
“Where is it located?” I asked her.
“Washington. Maybe your sister was planning on leaving and going there.” She picked at blue paint beneath her nails.
I leaned over the phone, gripping Sage’s hand in mine. Her palm had gone cold. It could have been from her iced coffee, but based on the look on her face, I didn’t think it had anything to do with the temperature of her drink.
Sage whispered, “Your sister was probably trying to leave, and he found out. He wasn’t going to let her go …”
Tears stung my nose and welled in my eyes. “Knowing my sister, she wasn’t about to let that stop her.”