Chapter 7
SEVEN
G RANT
I’m in a disgruntled mood today. I’d gotten less sleep than I wanted because of the event we had last night, and I’d woken up way too early and stared at the ceiling wondering what the fuck I was doing with Dakota. I glare at my phone, wondering if I should just tell her to forget everything.
I put her off last night. Told her I needed sleep because of how late it was and how long the day had been. It wasn’t a lie, but I also wanted some time to reconsider my decision. It had been a rash one prompted by her tears. I couldn’t stand to see her cry like that, knowing she works as hard as she does and that the new bar we opened is probably contributing to her problems just like she said. Everyone likes the pretty new thing. Some of her regulars will drift back after the shine wears off, but it may not be in time for her to right the ship.
She also wasn’t wrong about this fucking wedding costing a small fortune. I had a veritable army descending on the hotel in a few weeks to put on what I have to assume is the biggest event Purgatory Falls has ever seen. Everyone in our extended family and Hazel’s, at least a dozen of his teammates, and a handful each of friends, acquaintances, and business associates were all going to make their way to see the two of them get hitched again. Their first wedding had been modest, and Ramsey’s insisting on making this one perfect for her with all the bells, whistles, and pre-wedding events.
So I can’t blame Dakota for being overwhelmed. There’s probably an avalanche of to-dos and expenses that she’s struggling to shoulder while she plays maid of honor to Hazel’s unhinged bride of the year. But the way she’d been trying to solve it was dangerous. The same way she tries to solve every problem she has—by herself with very little forethought to what happens if things go tits up. Or what she’ll do if her gangster landlord finds out and leverages it as blackmail against the debts she owes him.
I feel a whisper of guilt trickle down my spine. I rarely feel anything. It’s all business to me. But with her, I feel something less cold—call it obligation to her brother, a tinge of humanity in my blackened heart. As much as I’m desperate to teach her a lesson and make her learn it the hard way, there’s a hint of reluctance on my part. Probably because when I stopped seething with rage, I started wondering if she could manage talking to me the same breathy way she did to those men, and I was curious if she’d be brave enough to send pictures if I forced her hand.
“You look deep in thought.” Levi enters my office with the same stalking silence he always does and sits down across from me.
“I’ve got a big fucking problem on my hands. ”
“Dakota?” He smirks. We know each other too well after all these years working together.
I nod.
“The site’s deleted, and I assume you reamed her ass out thoroughly over it. So what else is there to solve?” His brow furrows in question, and he pulls his glasses off to clean them with the edge of his shirt.
“She needs the money. The money I seized from her and then some.”
“Ah. And you’re thinking of loaning it to her because you always have a weak spot where your former ward is concerned?”
“I don’t have a weak spot. I have an obligation to Jesse.” I give Levi an unamused look. They weren’t as close as we were, but Levi treated him like a brother too.
“I think you fulfilled that obligation a long time ago. What she does now isn’t your problem.”
“Well. In all the fucking mess that was yesterday, I made it my problem.”
“How so?”
I take my pen and turn it over on the desk. I don’t even know how to explain it. I already know the face he’ll make when I tell him. He clears his throat and raises his brow in expectation.
“I told her there were other ways besides money she could pay me back.”
Levi curses under his breath and shakes his head as he looks out the window. “I could have seen this one coming from a mile away.”
“There’s nothing to see,” I snap, and his eyes return to me.
“You said yourself it’s a problem.”
“It’s a problem because if I back out of it, she won’t take it seriously. She’ll go back to doing all this risky shit. Putting her life in danger. Talking to strangers like that online. Selling photos for their entertainment. No. Jesse would hate it. Not to mention, the wrong guy gets too attached to her? She’ll end up some sick fuck’s plaything.”
“As opposed to what you’re planning to do with her,” he mutters sardonically.
“It’s just to teach her a lesson. Make her send a couple of pictures. Force her into a corner or two. She’ll break easily, and I’ll let her off with the warning.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
I laugh at the thought of it. “She could barely speak after I suggested it. I don’t think it’s a question of if; it’s just a question of how fast. She hates me, and it’s torture to her that I’m sitting on all the leverage.”
“I think it’s a bad fucking idea. With everything going on right now? It’s a huge distraction. At some point, she needs to make her own mistakes.”
“I don’t get distracted.”
He gives me a silent skeptical look in response.
“You have another solution that doesn’t make me look like I can’t handle holding a line with her once I draw it?”
He sighs and shakes his head. “No. You’ve well and truly fucked yourself on this one.”
He wasn’t wrong there. It had been a tactical error, one I’d let a rare surge of emotions drive me into. That wouldn’t be happening again.
“This stays between us.”
“You think she’ll keep quiet that she has the head of the Horsemen wrapped around her finger?” he muses, his eyes dancing with the thought.
“Funny.” I level him with a stern look. “She wants to keep her business private, and I’m keen to let her do that. ”
He nods and then reluctantly eases back out of his chair. “You ready to go find out what our little brother needs?”
“One more discussion of wedding details, and I’m going to take off on a month-long vacation and come back when it’s all over,” I grumble as we make our way to the door.
A half hour later, we’re at the bar with Ramsey, sipping our drinks, when he springs some surprise news on us. I’m not a fan of surprises on a good day, but this one I couldn’t have imagined in a million years.
“Went in to finish out all the paperwork to wrap up my parole, and I overheard some of them talking about the newly appointed sheriff.” Ramsey swirls the whisky around the stones.
“They finally find someone to replace old man Sheppard? I still can’t fucking believe he went out that way.” I raise my brow as I think back to the scandal that rocked the police department last year when he was indicted on drug and weapons charges.
“You’re not gonna believe the name that floated down the hall from their conversation.” Ramsey’s eyes lift over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip.
“Fuck. Longmeyer didn’t get promoted, did he? I don’t need his brand of squeaky-clean bullshit,” I grouch. He was one of the lieutenants who was always giving me shit, implying that someday he’d have my head for all the crimes I committed. Despite the fact he couldn’t prove a damn thing.
“Jay Stockton.” Ramsey drops it like the rock it is.
“Our Jay Stockton?” Levi’s face drops as fast as my stomach.
“The very one. ”
“How the fuck is that possible?” Levi’s brow furrows as he sits straighter in his chair.
“It’s a political appointment until the next election. He could get it if he was kissing the right ass. Which is apparently what he’s been doing since he left,” I answer him absently. My mind is already rushing ahead to a list of possibilities, each one more dire than the next.
Jay had been part of the mess we found ourselves in last year—not immediately speaking—the double homicide and the arson and the whole rest of the ugly summer the three of us shared was ours alone. But the impetus behind it—the robbery gone wrong and the fact that we’d ended up with something someone very clearly wanted on the black market—that had been a gambit my uncle and my father had been running together. It was one they’d largely kept Levi and me out of the loop on. When I’d asked questions in the wake of my parents’ deaths nearly six years ago, Uncle Jay had told me it was need-to-know only, and apparently, even as the new head of the Horsemen, I didn’t need to know. He’d said it would needlessly complicate my life, and he could handle it on his own.
I hadn’t trusted him then, and I certainly don’t trust him now. On his way back to Purgatory Falls without a single word to his family? On the side of the law, no less. Something had me wary in every new layer of this information, and I needed to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.
“When? Did they say when?” Levi immediately starts asking about the facts. He’s usually more in a rush to unravel a problem than I am.
“Nah. No details. I just caught the tail end of a conversation. They didn’t seem happy about it. Seemed to think he wasn’t the right one for the job,” Ramsey explains.
“Wonder why?” Levi rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
Corruption runs rampant on both sides of the law around here, but it’s more than a little odd for someone from our family to start swimming on the right side of it.
“Has he reached out to you yet?” Ramsey looks at me.
“No. Nothing. Still silence.” It leaves an unsettled feeling in my gut. I turn my glass as I think through how to handle it. “We’ll see if he decides to check in when he gets here. Until then, you’d better start keeping an eye on it.” I look at Levi.
“Do I want to know what that means?” Ramsey looks between us. Ramsey’s the youngest of all of us, and since he went from college straight to playing pro ball right around the time our parents died, he missed out on the family business. Last year dragged him all the way back in, and he’s still trying to adjust to that circumstance. It doesn’t help that his wife, for good reason after last year, wants him clear of it all.
“Probably not,” Levi responds casually, watching as our server walks by. “I’ll look into it though. Could make it work for us.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” I shake my head. “He might not cause trouble for us, but given his silence, I don’t think he’ll be inclined to help.”
“Won’t want to bring too much attention to the family name.” Levi surmises.
“Let’s at least give him a chance to reach out before we decide what he wants. I thought he and Dad were close?” Ramsey’s the optimistic one. That’s the thing when you don’t have to be neck-deep in the family business—you can pretend that people aren’t their worst selves.
“They were close out of necessity for the business. There wasn’t any sort of real love lost between them. Especially when Uncle Creighton left everything to Dad and us. It set him off,” I explain.
There’d been times when Jay played the uncle to us kids. We went fishing and camping a few times. He always came over to play cards with dad and there was the occasional summer barbecue. But the older we got, the less we saw of him.
“Any chance he’s feeling remorse for the way he handled that now that he’s on his own? Maybe he’s hoping he can come crawling back to the family?” Ramsey asks.
“After all the silence, you mean?” Levi shakes his head. “I don’t care if he shares our last name. I’ll treat him like every new sheriff we’ve gotten. If anything, we should be more wary, given that he knows too much about our business model. With everything he’s seen over the years…” Levi’s eyes lift to mine as he trails off, concern etched across them.
“He won’t. There’s no way he wouldn’t go down as collateral damage. And if there’s one thing that man values, it’s his own interests,” I counter.
“Don’t we all.” Levi’s practical nature comes through. “I’ll look into it. See what I can find.”
“Good. We’ll monitor it. If anything comes of it, we can discuss what the next steps should be.” I down the rest of my drink and slide the glass to the edge of the table.
“Well, if that’s settled, I’ve got the second thing I’ve gotta drop on you.” Ramsey looks between us and swallows another sip of his drink before he motions to the server for a water.
“Which is?” Levi looks at him expectantly.
“If this is another special request for the wedding…” I narrow my eyes at my younger brother. I’d do just about anything for him, especially now that he’s back in town, at least part-time when he’s not playing, but the attention to detail for this wedding has reached official state-event levels.
“Not exactly a special request, but Hazel’s decided she wants to do something special at the ranch in lieu of a wedding shower. Wants to do a couple of days and an overnight. Her family, mine, and the folks on the ranch if they want to come too.”
“What exactly are we doing?” Levi looks as suspicious as I feel.
“Just sitting out by the fire, some games, good food… that kinda thing.” Ramsey sits back in an awkward way that makes me feel like he’s not telling the whole truth.
“What kind of games?” I press the issue.
He smirks and looks into the distance like he’s thinking about her now. I have to suppress my own smile in return. It’s been so fucking good to see my kid brother smile again, and his happiness is almost contagious. Almost.
“If I tell you, you won’t come, and she’ll have my ass for ruining it.” He looks at me, his brow worried.
“Now you have to tell us,” Levi chimes in.
“All right. But you’re coming. If I have to drag you there kicking and fucking screaming. She’s the happiest she’s been in… well, forever, it feels like, and I’m not letting anyone ruin it.”
“Fine.” I nod and motion for him to continue explaining our fate.
“She wants to do what she’s calling wedding party games. She wants to pair everyone off, do some games around the ranch—riding, roping, shooting—and have it be a competition.”
“What’s the prize?” Levi asks.
“She hasn’t decided yet. She was mulling an island vacation or something like that.”
“She thinks this is fun?” Levi’s rarely amused, too serious for his own good, even by my standards.
“She thinks she’s playing matchmaker.” He grins.
“It’s a losing bet if she thinks she can do that with us.” I shake my head .
“Nah. She considers you two lost causes—confirmed bachelors—she put it. But she’s determined now that she’s happy again; she wants her brothers to be too.”
“Poor bastards,” I mutter.
“As long as she keeps us out of it.” Levi shrugs.
“She will, but you’re the decoys. They’ll be on to her if she’s too obvious. Which is why I have to make sure your asses are there. I told her it was going to be a near impossible sell, and she told me if I enjoy being in her bed every night, I’ll make it happen.”
“You’re whipped as fuck.” Levi laughs.
“And enjoying every fucking second of it.” Ramsey grins.
It sounds like fucking torture. But I don’t want to let him down—not when he’s so happy and last year was such a nightmare.
“We’ll be there,” I say, and Levi side-eyes me briefly but doesn’t say a word to the contrary.
“Thank you.” Ramsey gives me a surprised look.
“Another round?” I raise my nearly empty glass.
“I should get home,” Ramsey answers. “Don’t want to keep her waiting.”
“And I’ve got research to start on our dear uncle.” Levi presses his lips together.
“All right. I’ve got emails to check and business to attend to.” I look down at my phone and see there’s a message from Dakota. I open it without thinking and nearly choke on my own tongue. Levi and Ramsey’s heads both snap up.
“That serious?” Ramsey starts to lean over my shoulder, and I quickly press the lock screen while I try to catch my breath.
“No, just neck-deep in things I need to take care of,” I manage to say, but his brow slants like he doesn’t quite believe me. “I’ve got the check. You two go on. ”
“You sure?” Ramsey taps his wallet.
“Positive. Have a good one. Tell the once and future wife I say hello.”
“She’ll be charmed.”
“I aim to please.”
He nods and says his goodbyes, and Levi follows suit. I sit still for a few minutes, staring into the abyss. Dakota has decided to deliver early today—and I wasn’t lying when I said I was neck-deep because before I can stop myself, I open the photos to look again.
One of them is of her in lingerie, her legs spread as she sits on a table with the bottle of Scotch—my bottle of Scotch, to be precise. It’s the one small consolation she’s finally given me in the last few months, so I have something to drink when I visit the bar. It was a small concession from her to me after I brought back one of the bottles of champagne she likes on Valentine’s Day, so it feels like a subtle peace offering on her part.
The next photo is more artistic, the side of her jaw and neck framed by a shadow that falls across her chest to where the bra she has on is starting to slip off. The straps are hanging limply off her shoulders, and her breasts are threatening to tumble over the edge of the lace. I note that she doesn’t put her face in the photo, just like with the ones she posted on the site. I’ll give her credit for that much.
I flip back to the first photo. No face there either, and her upper body is blurred because of the focus on the bottle and her legs. My eyes trace the silk ribbon that travels over her thigh and connects to the garter she has on. I can only see parts of it. The bottle blocks most of the view I want. Or would want. If it was a different woman. One I’m allowed to fantasize about.
But I’m already imagining running my hands up the insides of her thighs. Telling her to spread wider for me. Trying to decide which is the shot and which is the chaser .
Fuck.
I press the button to darken the screen and lay the phone flat on the table, closing my eyes to try to find my fucking reason. Clearly, I’ve lost it. I can see Jesse standing in front of me, threatening to gut me from stem to stern. He would drag me back to hell for even thinking it.
If I’m going to keep doing this with her, I’m going to have to face that reality every day. I’ll have to look at myself in the mirror knowing full well I’m a bastard for even fantasizing about the idea even if I never act on it. Which I won’t. Ever .
My phone buzzes quietly on the table, and I pick it up again like it’s a fucking snake. Her name is emblazoned across the screen, and I swipe it open.
HARTFIELD:
You have to tell me what you like besides Scotch and money if you want me to make good on the debt.
The devil on my shoulder and my dick are already working in concert, making a list of the things they want next. I rub my temples and drink the last of my whisky just as the server appears to pick up the empty glass.
“Rough day?” He gives me a sympathetic look.
“You could say that.”
“Another?”
“Nah. I’m good. Thanks.” I nod, and he takes off back to the bar.
I pick my phone up again and open the contact screen for Hartfield. I delete her name and replace it with “HELLFIRE.” Apparently, I was going to need a constant reminder. My eyes drift back to her message when I close out the pop-up.
We need to lay some ground rules.