25. Didn’t Sign Up for This – Rick
Chapter 25
Didn’t Sign Up for This
PLAYLIST: “WAY DOWN WE GO” BY KALEO
RICK
The sharp crash of crates hitting the ground snapped me out of my half-doze, followed by the sound of Roman’s frantic shouting. The noise cut through the quiet of the bunkhouse like a blade, slicing into my chest.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled as I swung my legs over the side of the bunk, my feet hitting the cold floor. This wasn’t just the horses acting up. Not tonight.
My gut twisted into a cold knot of dread as I grabbed my boots and shoved them on. My hands shook harder than I liked to admit, but I pushed the feeling down. No time for that now. By the time I threw open the door and stepped outside, the crisp night air hit me like a slap to the face, sharp and biting against my skin.
The ranch, normally so quiet at this hour, was alive with chaos. Landon’s patrol SUV sat parked near the barn, its blue-and-red lights cutting across the yard in jolting flashes that made everything feel wrong. My heart rate spiked, my pulse shuddering and thrumming in time with the strobing blue and red lights. Roman’s truck sat idling nearby, its headlights spilling jagged beams across the gravel and barn walls, turning shadows into monsters.
And then I saw him.
Cody Jacobson, the lazy pretty boy among the wranglers at the ranch who got by mostly on his easygoing charm and good humor, was trying to slip away into the night. Something about his hunched-over, creeping posture set off all kinds of alarm bells in my head. The slippery bastard was hunched low, moving fast toward the trees like he thought he could disappear into the dark before anyone noticed. His movements were sharp, erratic, filled with the kind of desperation that stood out like a flare.
Why me? The frustrated thought rolled through my chest like a riptide. Why’d I have to be the one who walked out of the bunkhouse and saw him? Why couldn’t it be literally anyone else who stepped out into this surreal scenario and noticed him trying to get away? Problem is, I definitely noticed, and I can’t just let him slip away into the night.
“Damn it,” I hissed, already on the move. My boots crunched against the gravel as I broke into a sprint, aiming straight for him, my pulse hammering in my ears.
“Hey!” I barked, the word sharp and cutting.
Cody’s head jerked slightly as he glanced in my direction, but he didn’t stop.
Figures. Guys like Cody only stop when you make them.
He was quick, I’d give him that, but desperation made him sloppy.
Me, on the other hand? I wasn’t sloppy. I’d played sports all through school, and I was still athletic by nature. Plus, years of wrangling cattle, hauling hay bales, and every grueling task this ranch could throw at me had turned me into a damn workhorse. My chest burned as I pushed harder, my boots slipping slightly on the gravel, but I wasn’t going to lose him.
Cody darted toward the fence line, the uneven light making his movements jerky and hard to follow. He ducked under low-hanging branches, nearly tripping over an overturned barrel in his path. My heart skipped a beat when he jumped and cleared it easily.
I swore under my breath, shaking my head as I lost sight of him for a moment.
For a split second, I thought he might get away, but then I heard it—the sharp snap of twigs under his boots.
I swiveled toward the sound and spotted him, even closer than I’d expected.
Gotcha .
I lunged, my shoulder slamming into his side. The impact knocked the breath out of both of us as we hit the ground hard. It wasn’t clean—his elbow drove into my ribs with enough force to make me gasp, a sharp pain radiating through my chest—but I didn’t let him go.
“Get off me, man! I didn’t do nothin’!” Cody thrashed beneath me, his voice venomous and panicked, each word dripping with anger.
“Yeah, sure you didn’t,” I growled, my breath still coming in hard bursts. “That’s why you were sneaking off like a damn thief, huh?”
My grip on his shirt tightened as he bucked against me, trying to twist free.
“You’re gonna regret this,” he spat, his voice sharp and full of venom.
“I doubt that,” I muttered, adjusting my hold.
Cody bared his teeth, trying to wriggle away from me again. “Fuck you. You think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you? You ain’t shit, and I wish to fuck you’d never left Alabama.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. Blackwell!” I shouted, my own voice raw. “Get over here and cuff this idiot before he tries something even dumber than he already has!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Landon jogging toward us, his hand already on his belt where his cuffs hung. Cody twisted again, his curses growing louder and more frantic, but I kept my grip tight until Landon reached us.
“Good catch, Rick,” Landon said, clapping the cuffs on Cody’s wrists with practiced efficiency. His voice was calm, but there was tension in his jaw, a tightness in his eyes. He felt it too—something about tonight wasn’t right.
“You sure you’ve got him?” I asked, my voice harsher than I intended.
“I’ve got him,” Landon said firmly, hauling Cody to his feet with a practiced yank. “Go check on Roman and Zoe.”
That was all I needed to hear. I turned and sprinted for the barn, my boots pounding against the gravel. The chilly night air burned in my lungs with each step, but I ignored it. Roman’s shouting still echoed in my ears, raw and frantic in a way I’d never heard before. Roman wasn’t the panicking type, and that he sounded freaked out scared me more than anything else.
When I pushed open the barn door, the smell hit me first—thick and musty, a mix of hay, sweat, and the faint acrid tang of Roman’s idling truck outside. The flickering light overhead cast everything in harsh, uneven shadows, distorting the scene before me into something that didn’t look real.
Roman was on his knees on the floor, cradling Zoe like a lifeline. Her hair fanned out around her head, its usual chestnut brown darkened by the dim, flickering light to look almost black against the hay-strewn boards. Her face was pale, too pale, the color of the moonlight streaming through the gaps in the barn walls. She didn’t look like she belonged in this world anymore, and the sight of her stillness hit me like a punch to the gut.
“Zoe, wake up. Please.” Roman’s voice cracked on the last word, the sound breaking me in ways I didn’t think possible. His hand trembled as he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch heartbreakingly gentle.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breathe. My brain refused to process what I was seeing. This wasn’t just trouble—this was life-changing, soul-crushing chaos.
I didn’t sign up for this kind of shit when I took this job. Jesus H. Christ.
“Roman,” I finally managed, my voice rough and barely audible.
He didn’t look up. His fingers tightened their grip on Zoe, as if letting go might make her disappear.
“She won’t wake up, Rick,” he rasped, his voice broken. “I don’t?—”
His voice caught. My heart ached for him as he gathered himself and sucked in a shuddering breath, forcing himself to keep speaking.
“I don’t know what to do.”
I knelt beside him, shrugging off my jacket.
“She’s cold. We need to warm her up and get her some help. We should call an ambulance or something.” My words came out clipped and practical, but they felt hollow. Fear clawed at the edges of my control, threatening to break through.
Roman didn’t argue. He took my jacket with shaking hands, draping it over Zoe like it was the only thing tethering her to this world.
“How much help can we even get her out here?” he whispered, his voice raw. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, Rick. What if we don’t have forty-five minutes for an ambulance to get here? Look at her. What if—what if that’s too long?”
His words hung heavy in the air, a weight I couldn’t shake. Outside, the faint slam of Landon’s SUV door echoed, but inside, it was just us. Just the suffocating quiet. Just Zoe.
I didn’t have an answer. Couldn’t have one. My gaze dropped to her unmoving form, her unnatural stillness cutting through me like a knife. I’d seen tough moments before, but this—this was different. It was too quiet. Too still. And it left something sharp and heavy lodged in my chest.
The barn felt too small, the air too thick, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on me. Roman’s grip on Zoe tightened, his fingers pressing against the fabric of my jacket like he could will her back to life. The flickering barn light cast pale shadows across her face, making her look even more fragile.
And God help me, I didn’t know if she’d open her eyes again.