Chapter Thirty #3
I mean, Peyton knew the night we broke into the cabin, and I’m not going to lie, I was a little nervous to see her the following day.
I thought she’d consider this a betrayal of our friendship or be totally fired up about destroying the Graysons.
She was to some extent. She was hurt that I hid my feelings about Arsen from her, and then she was mad about him being such an asshole to me.
And said that if he hurt me in any way, she’d cut his balls off.
But I calmed her down and told her that I had it under control.
She didn’t like it, but she trusted my judgment.
Also, as it turned out, she had other things on her mind.
Namely, Raddison.
“He saved us,” she said, looking out the kitchen window as if in a trance.
“Yup.”
“I’m, like, beholden to him.”
“I’ve never heard you use that word before,” I pointed out.
“I’m in his debt,” she kept going. “And he’s a Grayson.”
“Well, technically he’s a King. Radisson King. He’s their cousin but I see what you mean.”
She turned to me suddenly then. “Do you think it would make me a bad sister if I said I wanted to thank him?” Before I could answer, she continued, “I mean, I don’t care about my father but my brother…
” She bit her lip in thought. “I don’t know.
He’s just so much like my father or that’s what it seemed when we lived together.
But sometimes I think maybe… he’s not? I don’t know.
I just know that I can’t trust Breck. So do you think if I thanked Radisson for, you know, saving me, it would be like a huge betrayal?
Well, more than the whole going along with the Grayson revenge plan? ”
“First, you’re not betraying anyone. You should be wary of your brother because all men in our lives have failed us,” I said, excluding Arsen from my list. “You need to look out for yourself.” Plus, I’m going to stop Arsen from exacting his revenge anyway, I added silently before continuing, “And second, how are you going to thank him?”
She turned back to the window. “I don’t know yet. But maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe I can get him to talk.”
“Talk?”
“Yeah. He doesn’t talk. It’s not healthy. He should be able to air his grievances, right?”
I frowned at her. “Are you planning on being his therapist?”
She frowned back at me. “No, I’m going to be his friend.”
And that was that. I don’t think she’s been very successful at it.
Because every time she comes around in a room, Radisson leaves it.
At the bonfire two days ago, he kept avoiding her like the plague, and she seemed really frustrated about it.
I feel bad for her because I think for the first time ever, Peyton genuinely likes a guy.
She may even like him as much as I like Arsen, and if that’s the case, then God help her.
All of this to say, people on the ranch know about Arsen and me. That’s not the point. The point is that sometimes I catch them looking at me with pity.
Especially Haven.
Who I think knows that I’ve fallen in love with my forced-fake husband.
And like I thought the first day I came here, she probably also knows everything about Arsen’s past with Annie.
About who she was, how they met, how long they were together before everything happened.
How he was with her, the woman he loved.
Did he laugh around her a lot? Did he share all his secrets with her, his dreams?
They had all these plans for the future, didn’t they?
Buying land, setting up his own ranch and business.
So maybe he did laugh and share things with her.
Sometimes I think I should just give in and ask Haven. Instead of torturing myself with curiosity. Because it’s not as if he’s open about his history with her.
Every time I broach the topic during one of our dinner conversations, he shuts down.
He tells me he doesn’t want to talk about it and that I shouldn’t worry about it, either, because it’s none of my concern.
But it is my concern. The man I love is still in love with his ex-girlfriend.
He spent eight years in prison for her. He’s going to destroy his life, along with whatever peace he’s managed to find now that he’s back with his family, working on the ranch, and trying to get back his passion for breaking horses, all in the pursuit of vengeance for her—and I don’t even know what she looks like.
Forget the past; he won’t talk to me about his future, what he plans to do once all of this is over.
We even had a big fight about it where he kept going on about all the wonderful things I’ll do once I leave in one week and get far away from Black Rock and everything that’s tainted in this town including him.
But when I asked him about his plans, he shut me down.
Fed me the same crap about it not being my business.
That freedom is for me but not for him.
I don’t get it. How long is he going to punish himself for her death? What will be enough if eight years in prison and even revenge don’t seem to be?
He even had the audacity to tell me I shouldn’t feel guilty about my mother’s death.
But I do, even though rationally, I believe him—that I was just a child and I couldn’t have done anything.
He told me if I hadn’t saved myself, we wouldn’t be doing what we were doing right then.
And then he proceeded to show me what that was: putting me on my tummy, arching my hips up, and sliding into my ass.
All the while he fucked me, he made me say things; and if I refused, he’d smack my ass and make me say it anyway:
“My husband is right.”
“My husband is so happy I’m alive.”
“My husband is fucking ecstatic that he gets to fuck my juicy little asshole whenever he wants. And if I keep whining about things like that, he’ll fuck my ass twice every single day until I get it through my head that I’m precious. And I should be protected at all costs.”
God, he’s so infuriating and sweet, and I just want to shake him. Anyway, the only reason I haven’t yet gone to Haven is because I don’t want to betray his trust.
Which is why a few days later, I do what I do.
I realize this is a breach of his trust as well. But it’s been almost two weeks since we came to the ranch. Time’s running out, and I’m no closer to finding a way to stop all this. I don’t even know if what I’m doing is going to help me in that regard, but if I don’t do it, I know I will regret it.
“You know my brothers will kill me for this, yeah?” Axton grumbles, entering numbers on the safe keypad.
“You’ll be fine,” I tell him, looking toward the door of Marsden’s office.
“Arsen’s makin’ me muck stalls every day of the week just ’cause I stared at you too long.”
“So maybe don’t stare at me then.”
His eyes, almost as dark as those of his two brothers, fall to my chest for a second. “Hard to do with you lookin’ like that.”
“Hey.” I smack his arm. “I’m your sister-in-law.”
He looks up before smirking. “Yeah, you wish.”
“Why are you such a cocky asshole?”
“I’m a cowboy, baby,” he drawls, tipping his hat and finally getting the safe open. “It’s my job to be a cocky asshole.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“There,” he goes. “Have at it. Just know you’re enterin’ sacred territory.”
“You stole money from your sacred territory.”
“Cash is different. Ain’t never touched nothin’ else in there except that.”
I woke up with a mission this morning. Somehow I was going to do something toward my goal, and since I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this safe I saw Axton break into days ago, I hunted him down and blackmailed him into helping me.
I told him if he didn’t help me break into the safe, I’d tell everyone about the money he stole.
Of course, Axton was less than graceful. So then I told him the truth. Everything. Including that I loved his brother and I wanted him to be safe.
It was a big risk, but I knew he’d cave.
He may be an asshole, but Axton, like the rest of this family, loves Arsen.
They all want him to be happy. They all want him to move on.
So here we are, sneaking into Marsden’s office when everyone else, including Peyton and Haven, are busy elsewhere.
I root around the safe in desperation while Axton stands beside me.
He asks me what it is I’m hoping to find in there, and I tell him I don’t know yet.
All I know is that I have to try. But so far it’s all a bunch of useless crap.
Until I find a thick manila folder.
I’m expecting it to be more useless crap, but my heart stops the moment I see the letters written in bold with a photograph of a stunning brunette: Annie Cassidy.