40. Is he a robot?
Is he a robot?
Elena
My stomach is rolling as we drive down the long lane.
I know they’re going to hate me. Just because it’s been a few months since I was caught doesn’t mean they’ll forget.
It shouldn’t matter to me. I got my sister back.
But now that I’m going to be a part of Wade’s life, I want to fit in with his friends.
I know they’re important to him. Weirdly, the only thing that really helps is knowing that Sophia seemed to think I’m okay, and the fact that Wade is the sheriff.
No one will try anything crazy with an officer right there, will they?
Fuck. Who knows?
But if they mess with Cynthia—
“Looks like Dad beat us here.” Wade pulls the truck past a huge log house to a row of barns where he parks next to Abe’s SUV.
Abe steps from the shadows of the barn with a towering man wearing a dark mustache and a frown who hovers near a petite woman who’s barely as high as his chest.Wade circles to open my door, narrowly avoiding Cynthia rushing out.
One eyebrow raises when I don’t move. “Elena?”
I catch a glimpse of Cynthia running to give Abe a hug and immediately strike up a conversation with the two people standing there.
“I’m not sure about this.” It happened so fast, I haven’t had a chance to prepare to cross this bridge yet. “I hurt their friends,” I whisper.
“They know the truth.” Wade stands patiently, his gaze unwavering as he waits for me. “They can see the reason.” He nods towards Cynthia. “I can guarantee that there isn’t a person here who wouldn’t do the same for someone they love if they had to make the choice.”
His palm rises. “Out. I’m here. You’ll always be safe with me.”
I do trust him.
Slipping my fingers into his hand, I let him tug me out of the truck.
He holds me tightly, leading me to the couple who are, amazingly, both smiling at my sister. Even the tall scary looking guy.
“Dixon. Char. This is Elena, my fiance,” he says proudly.
Neither of them look surprised by his announcement.
I wonder if there’s some sort of group chat?
Dixon tenses when Char extends her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” Her smile is wide as she steps closer and her voice drops. “I’ve heard good things, I promise.”
“Thank you.” Relief floods through me.
Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought?
“Dixon McCullough, owner of Black Gulch.” The only person I’ve seen that’s bigger than Wade stands motionless. “And I hope you’re cooperating fully to find the person behind the attacks?” His eyes pierce me like he’s slicing off pieces.
Well. One of them seems to like me.
“I am,” I manage to stammer.
Fuck, he’s intimidating.
“Shit, that reminds me.” Wade moves between us.
I love him more.
“I have a picture of a possible suspect. Does he look familiar?” He hands Dixon the sketch that Cynthia made.
Dixon’s mustache twitches in the corner, otherwise he’s completely stonefaced.
Is he a robot?
He finally clenches his jaw, shakes his head, then hands it to Char.
Her eyes widen. “It does kinda look like Matt?” She squints, turning the paper sideways. “Maybe his brother?”
Wade nods. “Max is on the list.”
Char’s lips thin as she hands it back to Wade. “Yea, but it isn’t exact. Like, Max doesn’t have scars.”
Wade lets out a sigh as he tucks it away. “That’s what I was thinking too. But when was the last time anyone saw him?”
She twists her mouth. “Gosh, at least four years? Last I had heard, some guy was chasing him about a girl. But I don’t know names or anything about that.
” She shrugs, then turns to watch Abe and Cynthia walking deeper into the barn along the stalls.
“It’s all part of a past I try to forget,” she says quietly.
Dixon puts his palm on her shoulder, tugging her into his side. “So let’s talk about horses instead.”
Her smile when she looks up at him melts my heart.
They turn to follow my sister and Abe, while I hang back to thread my fingers with Wade’s.
“How does she know Max?” I ask him in a hushed voice. I’m not familiar with all of the names and faces yet.
“She used to be married to Matt. They divorced a few years ago.” When he kisses my temple, I see the same heat in his gaze that Char showed to Dixon.
“Oh.” It’s starting to make sense. “Isn’t he dead?”
Wade nods, walking me slowly. “He wasn’t a very good man.”
“Sounds like neither was his brother.” I tug on his arm to pause in front of a stall that has a mare with a new solid black foal.
I can’t help it, I let out a whine. “It’s so cute!” I wonder if Cynthia already saw it?
The mom stares at me warily, her nostrils flaring in my direction.
“I wish I could pet it.”
He snorts. “If you hang out around here, I’m sure Char would let you.”
That tempers me. “Yea, it might be a while. She seems nice though.”
“Dixon’s a good man, too. He’s very protective over his wife.” As if to emphasize his point, Wade wraps my shoulders and pulls me closer. “I get it now,” he says, squeezing me.
The sound of hoofbeats outside grows louder, then a shadow fills the door.
“Wade? Is that your old man’s rig out there?” Ford dismounts at the entrance and flips his reins over a rail.
This place is busy.
Well, I did see a lot of houses along the way. They have almost a whole community here on the ranch.
Just like the old days, I guess.
“Yep. Horse shopping for Cynthia. I knew it wouldn’t take long.” Wade grins at his friend.
“Shit, I forgot about that. Congrats, daddy.” Ford’s gray eyes cruise over me as he shakes Wade’s hand.
“Elena. Good to see you again. Heard you’re due a congrats as well.” He nods, the brim of his black cowboy hat momentarily blocking his face.
“Thank you. How’s April?” I wouldn’t mind seeing more of her.
“Ready to not be pregnant now that she’s on her last month. Ironically she’s due around Halloween.” Ford’s jaw tics as he glances to Wade.
Wade takes a deep breath.
It’s like they’re saying more than they’re saying.
I guess it’s like that when people know each other their whole lives.
“Speaking of shitty history—” He digs in his pocket and hands Ford the sketch. “—that guy look familiar?”
Ford stares hard and his lips thin. “I’d gander that it’s Max Simmons. I haven’t seen him since his face healed up though, so I can’t be sure. If I do, you won’t have to worry about him.” His voice is hoarse.
Wade rocks on his heels. “Is he—”
Ford nods.
I notice the tattoos on his hand when he reaches up to scratch his neck.
“Do you know how he got cut up? Or do I want to know?” Wade asks quietly.
“Let’s just say—” Ford turns and spits into the dirt. “—I should have jabbed when I sliced, and he wouldn’t have gotten away.”
Ice encircles my spine.
He did that to that man’s face?
What the hell happened?
Why does Ford want to kill him?
And why does Wade seem okay with it?