Buckled in Barbwire

CHAPTER ONE

“I ’m leaving.”

Bianca’s soft voice cuts into the silence, interrupting my glaring contest with the spreadsheet crumpled in my fist. A glance at my sister makes the profits from our recent livestock auction seem trivial. The tears in her eyes are a punch to the gut. I clench my jaw to avoid the emotion trying to climb up my throat.

“Since when do you tell me about your plans? Go do whatever it is you do all day. I’ll be in this exact spot when you’re done.” My hand motions to the stacks of paperwork demanding my attention.

She fidgets before dropping the bomb. “Um, well… I’ve decided to take a trip.”

“A trip?”

Her head bobs quickly. “To Europe. Alone. Kinda crazy, but it feels right. Germany seems like a good place to start. Not sure where I’ll go from there. My flight leaves tomorrow. ”

I freeze halfway through her speech. Once she’s done, a dry chuckle scrapes free from my grimace. “No.”

Her watery eyes roll. “I wasn’t asking permission.”

“Doesn’t matter. There’s no chance in hell that you’re traveling to a different country by yourself. It’s way too dangerous. I forbid it.”

“You can’t stop me. I’m an adult.” She lifts her chin at a haughty angle, appearing thirteen rather than twenty-three.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You’re being reckless. Spend the weekend in Florida or something.”

“No, I need an adventure. Somewhere unknown and far away.”

“Too bad. We need you here,” I counter.

Flames spark in her narrowed gaze. “You don’t. As you just so eloquently stated, my contribution around here is meaningless.”

“That’s not what I said.”

Bianca huffs. “Doesn’t matter. I’m going.”

“You might want to reconsider.”

“Why would I do that?”

The ten years that separate us are mocking me. I don’t have the luxury of hopping on a plane to abandon the grief. My sister is a fucking princess and has the freedom to do whatever she wants. But it’s our fault for allowing this behavior to continue.

My molars are dangerously close to becoming dust at the rate I’m grinding them. “Think about your horses. You don’t expect me to just let them stand around and get fat off expensive hay. What’s to stop me from selling the spoiled lot at the next auction?”

Am I proud of threatening her? Not really. But these are tough times. She doesn’t get to skip town while I’m stuck in the trenches.

Fresh tears glisten in her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

“Mom would be pissed at you right now,” Bianca rants. “Losing her was painful enough. Don’t be such an asshole.”

Air expels from my pressed lips in a hiss. She’s right, of course. Mother wouldn’t condone my behavior. But she’s gone. It’s my responsibility to keep the rest of our family together. I clench my hand into a tight fist under the desk and resist the urge to punch the wall.

“You have to stay,” I command. “Think about Dad. You can’t just leave while he’s suffering.”

She sniffs and drops her gaze. “Don’t use him as an excuse.”

“Fine. How about me? Consider the position you’re putting me in. There’s already too much shit on my plate. Dealing with your pampered herd is the last thing I need.”

Tension coils tightly between my shoulders as I consider the mountain of demands that require my attention. Overseeing the productivity of our multiple businesses is a full-time job, but that’s just the tip of my obligations. Between reviewing weekly output reports and increasing profitability across the deficits, my patience is stretched thinner than foreskin. And that’s just the agenda for this afternoon. My head hangs for a very brief reprieve.

I didn’t realize how much my mother did for Benson Farmstead until she was gone. With my father out of commission and Bianca choosing to flee the scene, the weight of our empire falls heavily on my shoulders. It’s become my responsibility to ensure we remain afloat .

My sister smiles, although the edges wobble. “Lucky for you, I found someone to care for those precious babies in my absence.”

The restless energy brewing in my veins sparks as if preparing for battle. “Who?”

“My friend.”

“Oh, that narrows it down.”

“Paisley.”

My expression wipes into a blank slate. “Am I supposed to recognize that name?”

Bianca’s grin spreads ever so slightly. “You know who she is.”

“Can’t say that I do,” I drawl.

My sister crosses her arms, staring down at me like I’m a stubborn toddler. “She’s the bubbly bundle of sunshine usually at my side. You can’t miss her.”

And that’s the truth. Not that I’ll ever admit it. Paisley Keaton might as well be an infected pimple on my ass for how much she annoys me. The pure joy she emits grates on every nerve until I’m rubbed raw. I find it inconceivable that a person can be filled with sheer glee and compassion at every turn. She really outdid herself at the funeral. That reminder flexes my muscles as heat rushes through me.

“Not happening,” I grit. “She’s not a suitable candidate for the job.”

“Oh, puh-lease. Paisley has more cowgirl experience than me.”

But I’m not hearing it. “I’ll find someone else to handle the horses and barn chores.”

My sister scoffs. “Sucks for you, big brother. Paisley already accepted the position. She started yesterday, gainfully employed by Benson Farmstead.”

“Under whose authority? I didn’t approve of hiring her.” Especially not for the astronomical amount I’m certain Bianca offered to pay her friend.

“Talk to Teresa if you have an issue with her payroll process. My work here is done.” She begins backing away.

Family is a soft spot for me, one of my only weaknesses. Bianca is too aware of this and uses it to her advantage. She knows I won’t deny her. I’ll let her leave and pick up the slack, not that she’s expecting me to. Nope. My thoughtful sister hired Paisley to do the honors. Little does Bianca realize, I’d rather wrap my dick in barbwire than grant that woman easy access to my property.

I launch to my feet, crashing the chair into the wall. “Wait a damn minute.”

“For what? It’s clear you won’t wish me well on my journey.”

“Fuck.” I rake through my hair. “I’m not trying to be an asshole. This isn’t what I expected when you stepped into the office.”

Bianca nods. “It’s been a rough adjustment, which is why I can’t be here. Just… give me time. I’ll be back.”

“When?”

She shrugs. “I can’t say for sure. But I won’t be gone for good.”

My mind spins in too many directions. “Why doesn’t Paisley go to Europe with you? Then you won’t be alone.”

“Nope. I need to do this for myself. Soul searching,” she says.

This evasive maneuver shouldn’t come as a surprise. We’ve been coping in our own separate ways since my mother passed two months ago. Her death shattered our family at its core, testing our strength. Dad was the first to crumble. He’s a shell of his former self. If I went searching, I’d find him sitting alone with only a bottle of scotch for company.

I flatten a palm on my abandoned paperwork. “Did you tell Dad?”

“Tried. He’s in a sour mood.” Which is a polite term for his benders.

My exhale is choppy. “Well, make sure you say goodbye before you go.”

“You’re giving me permission?”

I almost laugh. “Thought you didn’t need it?”

She fidgets with the hem of her shirt. “I don’t, but I’d still like your approval.”

My boots scuff on the hardwood as I round the desk, resting my ass on the edge. “Promise to be careful?”

“Yes, I promise.” Bianca squeaks, dashing across the room to wrap me in a hug. “Thanks, big bro.”

I pat her back. “There’s one condition.”

My sister straightens, suspicion tightening her features. “What?”

“Colton is going with you.”

“Absolutely not.” Her arm slices through the air.

“Just to keep you safe,” I continue.

Bianca is shaking her head. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Think of him more as a bodyguard.”

“No.”

“Yes,” I spit. “This isn’t a negotiation. If you leave without anyone watching out for you, I’ll follow and drag you back home myself.”

She draws in a slow breath. “Fine, but you have to do me a favor in return.”

I grunt. “Not sure you’re in a position to ask for anything.”

“Don’t give Paisley too much crap, okay?”

“No guarantees.”

“I figured you’d say that,” she quips. “Good thing I offered her a hefty salary to make it worth her while. And if she’s forced to deal with your surly attitude, she gets a bonus!”

“You must be joking.”

“Not even a little bit. Just stay out of her way and you won’t bleed money.” My little sister winks and retreats to the door. “Good luck.”

Those parting words sit heavy on my chest. For whatever reason, I feel like I’ll need all the luck I can get.