Chapter Four #2
And your involvement is the only thing keeping me safe. That’s ridiculous. I am totally and completely capable of handling
shit. Okay?”
He thought of the way that she had rallied all those people. And he had asked himself what actually made him mad about it.
Well. The lack of control. That was the issue. Because he really didn’t like that. But also . . . maybe it was just something
he didn’t understand. Because he sure as hell didn’t command that level of loyalty from anybody he wasn’t related to.
He knew that people would look at him, at the situation in Four Corners, and they wouldn’t believe that. They would think
that all the Four Corners people were joined at the hip. But they all had each other’s backs all the time. And while they
practically did look out for each other, the Kings were separate, and they always had been. It wasn’t because Arizona had
gotten prickly after her accident.
It wasn’t because Landry and Fia had splintered apart.
It wasn’t because the only person Justice had ever really been loyal to was Rue.
It wasn’t because Daughtry had work off the ranch.
It was because the way their father had spun his web of abuse was a particular kind of insidious. A particular kind of danger.
And it had done damage to them all in specific and terrible ways.
And it made it difficult for them to figure out how to relate to anybody. Made it feel dangerous.
At least, that was how he looked at it.
He couldn’t trust anyone else, and he couldn’t trust himself. That was the lesson he learned from his dad.
Because the truly terrifying thing about his dad was that Denver would never really know if his dad believed the stories that
he spun. A narcissist who cast himself as the hero, he manipulated everyone around him.
He’d driven his wife away, had been openly cruel to his only daughter.
And he’d appealed to the weaknesses in all of his sons, and had used those weaknesses against them. Had he believed that he
was doing what was best? Or had he just done it without conscience? He had taken Denver’s desire to protect, to care for the
ranch, to care for his siblings, and he’d corrupted it. The same as he had taken Daughtry’s sense of authority, and turned
it into something twisted up and dangerous.
They knew exactly what it was like to have those pieces of themselves corrupted.
And it was scary.
And he really believed that only a foolish man would be outright convinced that he would never fall for something like that
again. It wasn’t so much that he was worried about being tricked by somebody else. He was worried about his own ability to
lie to himself.
“Come with me,” he said.
“All right,” she said. “How do I know you’re not just looking to bury me in a back field somewhere?”
“Remember,” he said. “The red poker chip is hardly a legally binding agreement. I wouldn’t need to do anything half so dramatic as that to be rid of you. We don’t have an agreement yet. So you need to not piss me off.”
“I thought you owed me.”
“And I didn’t think you wanted to own me.”
“This is my dream,” she said.
“Yes. Your dream that you’re planning on leaving for greener pastures as and when you can. So why do you assume that you’re
going to be completely in charge of it? This is my land.”
He gestured for her to get in the truck, and she took her sweet-ass time doing it like putting a little bit of space between
his gesture and her action would mean that she hadn’t actually done what he’d said.
She got inside, and he started to drive them both out toward the gaming hall.
In some ways, King’s Crest itself had been a little bit like a town.
His grandpa had made money through illegal enterprises, and there had been no real law enforcement out there to oversee it.
He had never really considered that an asset, until now. And he supposed that he had Sheena to thank for that indirectly.
“I really thought you were going to teach me about teamwork,” she said.
“Here’s your first lesson,” he said shortly. “You let your partner in on all the different plans that you have.”
“You too. You never said anything about this.”
“My siblings brought it up last night.”
“Well, we talked last night. And you didn’t say anything about this.”
“I had no idea what you were actually doing dragging me out of the bar last night. You didn’t make yourself clear.”
She looked angry about that. “Well, some of it was about controlling the conversation in front of the patrons. Obviously.”
“Not obvious to me.”
“Well, it isn’t really my problem. But I put in my notice, so this needs to work. Because my boss was mad.”
“It’ll work,” he said, his tone short.
When they pulled up front of the old building, she whistled. “Lord. Why didn’t you say you had a damned palace out here?”
“Because it’s a palace of sin. And I didn’t really consider it something to be proud of. You of all people should understand
that.”
She nodded. “I do. But this is damned cool no matter what it was originally intended for.”
“Yeah. I guess so.” He killed the engine, and they both got out, and he looked critically at the place. It used to be white,
but the paint had faded with time and age. Two floors, the roof hanging flat out over the front to create a porch. It looked
like an old saloon. It looked, basically, like what it was.
It was something that faded into the mountains to him. Something he didn’t pay all that much attention to.
A part of life here. As sure as breathing. Seeing it at the same time she did, he saw possibility.
“All right. I like this. And it isn’t too far from the main road.”
“No,” he agreed. “What I’d really like is to get it completely renovated in time for Christmas. We’re having a big Christmas
party out at the ranch. I think this could be a great addition.”
“Look who’s taking the idea and running with it. Don’t you think that we could use Manny’s help if you’re planning on getting
it open that quickly?”
“Maybe,” he conceded.
“Wow. That must have almost hurt you.”
“Hush. Let’s go in.”
They pushed the door open, and his footprints in the dust were still there from this morning. She stepped inside one of them,
her own foot much smaller than his print. She wasn’t a tiny woman; she was tall, but he was much taller.
“This is very cool. We could put the throwing lanes over there.”
“Yeah. I looked at that. I was thinking you could have four over here, three over here. Probably we won’t need any more than
that, not in a place this size. But I bet it could stay pretty busy. The bar can be at the center. Away from all the throwing
action.”
“Yeah. You definitely don’t want to get hit with a stray axe.”
“Why exactly made you take up axe throwing?”
“Oh, I throw all kinds of things,” she said. “Knives. Hatchets. Dinner plates. Sometimes a motherfucker needs to get hit in
the head.”
She was funny, but there was trauma in that humor. He was familiar. He couldn’t imagine what it had been like being a girl
growing up in the environment they had been in. That was something else that made him angry about his father. Well. It was
maybe the wrong thing to say. He was glad his sister Arizona had been protected from the kinds of unsavory characters his
dad had associated with. But it just . . . It felt strange. They had been spared that immersion into the dark world their
father had cultivated in Pyrite Falls. The drug running, the gambling, the debts. It was held for the people that had been
treated so badly by his dad, and hell for the children of the ones who had worked with his father.
That was why even years after his father had left town, when he had found out that Penny Case’s dad had gone to prison, he
had gone to pick her up. Because what else could he do? That her dad was on that path was squarely down to his own father.
He couldn’t deny that.
“You ever stuck anyone with something?”
“Close,” she said, smiling wide and pretty.
“Anyway, how do you think I break up all those bar fights? It can be tough, being a woman who tends bar in places like this. Men can get the wrong idea. That they could take advantage of you, or that they can run the joint because hell, you’re just a lady.
I run my bar tighter than that. And I’ll run this bar tighter than that. ”
“And you’ll train up a manager for when you leave?”
She nodded. “I don’t see it being right away. But I’m patient. It’s been thirteen years since my father died. Thirteen years
since I became responsible for raising my siblings when I was eighteen.”
“I relate. Though, none of my siblings were kids. They were all a little older. It was tough, though. So I get it. You have
to try to be an example when you have no idea what that actually looks like. At least, that was my experience.”
She chuckled. “Yeah. I get that. It’s not like we had a functioning family even before he died.”
“I hope I was a help,” said Denver.
He really did.
She didn’t soften. But she did look just a tiny bit . . . friendlier, maybe.
“Why do you think we stayed? The help that you gave every month, that got me through.”
“I’m glad.”
“And I want to pay it back. Because you have to understand, it doesn’t sit right with me. Being in any man’s debt. I know
you don’t get it. I know you think it was your restitution. But you got us through. You got us through the damned worst, and
I wouldn’t say that I’m grateful like that. Because you know it’s more complicated than that. But I can certainly acknowledge
that without you we wouldn’t have gotten by like we did. And without you, my dad might still be alive. And, I don’t love the
way that might’ve gone. So.”
“Yeah. All right.”
She was grateful, but she didn’t want to be.
That was fair, because he didn’t really want her to be.
He didn’t do it for thanks. He had wanted to know that it mattered.
But that was all for him, and maybe that was part of the problem with it.
He was looking for a way to feel . . . redeemed, maybe, and it was possible that wasn’t fair.