Chapter 4 #2
"But consulting arrangements can become complicated," Bo continued, savoring each word. "Sometimes it's better, healthier even, for everyone involved if those arrangements are simplified."
Jesse watched his father weave his web of implied threats and veiled offers, saw the exact moment when understanding dawned in Raven's eyes.
Her face went pale, but her expression remained steady.
If anything, she straightened, lifting her chin in a gesture of defiance that made Jesse want to shake her for being reckless and na?ve, and commend her for being brave.
"What kind of consulting?" She didn't wait for her uncle to answer, didn't defer to the adults in the conversation.
"The kind that keeps people safe," Bo replied, his smile never wavering. "But safety's expensive, and arrangements like ours require an ongoing investment. Selling the ranch would provide that investment. It’s clean, simple, and profitable for everyone."
"And if we refuse to sell?"
The question hung in the air like smoke from a house fire. Jesse felt his father's satisfaction radiating across the porch, saw the cold calculation in his eyes as he prepared to deliver the killing blow.
"Well, that would be unfortunate." Bo set down his coffee cup with deliberate care. "Consulting arrangements that don't work out tend to create problems. For the consultant and his family."
Bishop's hand tightened on the banister, knuckles going white with strain. But it was Raven who spoke, her voice cutting through the threat with razor precision.
"Are you threatening us, Mr. Hollister?"
"I'm offering you an opportunity." Bo's mask of friendliness was slipping, revealing the snake underneath. "But opportunities have expiration dates. This one expires at the end of the week."
Jesse saw the exact moment when his father's patience ran out, saw the shift from veiled threat to open intimidation. Bo stood slowly, his considerable bulk casting a shadow across the porch, and took a menacing step toward Raven.
"You know, you remind me of another young lady. Pretty little thing, full of questions and opinions. Shame what happened…" He paused, letting the implication settle. "Such a tragedy."
Jesse moved before conscious thought, muscle memory and two years of waiting converging in a single moment. This was it. This was his line, his Rubicon. Bo would see it as temporary defiance or a strategic tactical retreat. He wouldn't see it for what it really was: a declaration of war.
Jesse stepped between his father and Raven with fluid precision. "I think we've made our position clear."
Bo's eyes narrowed, sensing the challenge in his son's stance. Jesse met his father's gaze without flinching, calculating how far he could push this before things turned violent. Not here, not in daylight with witnesses. Bo wouldn't risk the facade of legitimate business, not yet.
"Indeed we have." Bo's voice carried the kind of quiet fury that had made grown men disappear.
But after a moment, Bo stepped back, his businessman's mask sliding back into place.
"Bishop, you've got until Sunday to accept our offer. After that… well, we’ll cross that bridge if and when we have to. "
Jesse caught the look Bishop shot him—not gratitude exactly, more like grim recognition. The older man knew Jesse's intervention was a temporary détente at best. Behind Bishop, Raven watched Jesse with sharp curiosity, trying to figure out his angle.
Bo tromped down the steps and stalked toward the truck, leaving Jesse standing on the porch. Jesse knew he should follow, should play his role as the dutiful son and enforcer. Instead, he found himself looking into Raven's eyes, evaluating the intelligence and determination he saw there.
"You should take the offer," he said quietly, his voice pitched for her ears alone. "Trust me on this."
"Why?" Her question was barely a whisper, but it hit him like a shout. "Why should I trust you?"
Jesse thought of all the things he couldn't say: Because I'm trying to save your life. Because my father will destroy everything you love if you don't give him what he wants. Because I've seen what happens to families who think they can stand against him, and I won’t watch it happen to you.
Instead, he said, "Because some fights aren't worth winning."
"Even when they're the only fights that matter?"
The question caught him off guard with its quiet fierceness. She wasn't spouting platitudes or trying to sound brave. She was asking a real question, one that Jesse knew well from his time in Afghanistan fighting a war that seemingly had no end.
"Jesse!" Bo's voice cracked across the yard like a whip. "Time to go."
Jesse stepped back, breaking the spell that held them both frozen.
But as he walked toward the truck, he could feel Raven watching him, tracking his movements the way a deer tracks something dangerous in the woods.
She was wary, on guard, but she wasn't afraid, and that should have worried him more than it did.
As they drove away, Bo was silent until they'd cleared the Bishop property line. Then he spoke without taking his eyes off the road.
"You want to explain what the hell that was about?"
Jesse kept his tone measured but let his own edge creep in.
"Seemed like things were escalating rapidly beyond what we’d planned for this visit.
I thought it might be better to let them think about the offer, and the potential consequences, rather than push them into a corner during the first conversation. "
"Since when do you make tactical decisions around here?"
"Since you asked me to come along and help handle the situation.
" Jesse kept his eyes on the road ahead, not giving his father the satisfaction of looking at him.
"Did you want me to threaten a teenage girl in front of her uncle?
Teach him a lesson in the broad light of day with witnesses to deal with? "
Bo was quiet for a long moment, and Jesse wondered which way this would go. He was fully prepared for violence—it tended to be his father’s default response. Instead, a low, satisfied laugh rumbled from the old man’s chest, reminding Jesse of a predator savoring the hunt.
"You know what? You're right. Let them think they've got options.
It'll be much more satisfying when they realize they don't." Bo's smile was sharp enough to cut steel.
"Besides, the girl's got spirit. Be a shame to break that too quickly.
Better to let her watch everything she loves burn to the ground. Anticipation is half the fun."
Jesse let his father laugh, let him think he'd made the right play. But his mind was already moving through scenarios. Bo wanted the Blue Fork Ranch. Bishop wouldn't sell and go quietly. He’d die protecting it, protecting her.
That gave Jesse maybe a week, two at most, to set the trap. He stared out the window at the passing landscape, his jaw tight as his mind worked through what needed to be done. In the distance, smoke rose from what looked like a controlled burn, someone clearing dead brush to prevent wildfires.
His phone buzzed. Text from an unknown number:
If you really want to help, meet me at Miller's Pond tomorrow at sunset. Come alone.
Jesse stared at the message until the screen went dark.
It had to be Raven texting him, but how had she gotten his number?
She was inviting him to meet alone. Brave or foolish, he couldn't tell which but it didn't matter.
She'd just put herself on the board and he would use any advantage he could get. Whether she knew it or not, she’d just given him exactly what he needed: private access to Blue Fork.
Jesse slid the phone back into his pocket. Tomorrow. Sunset. Miller's Pond. One conversation to figure out if Raven Bishop could help him tear down his father's empire, or if she was just another innocent about to get crushed in the machinery.
The truck carried them back toward The Devil's Acre while the Bishop ranch disappeared behind them. His father thought he'd won today. Let him think it.
Jesse had learned patience in the military. He could wait a little longer for the time to be right. Soon enough his father’s reign of terror would end.