54. Kaitlyn
FIFTY-FOUR
Kaitlyn
WHEN WE ARRIVE IN HELENA, THERE’S A brAND NEW, lifted King’s Ranch F-350, sitting on the tarmac, waiting for us, in agate black.
“That’s what you were doing this morning?” I say, gratefully allowing my amusement to take hold of the borderline panic I’ve been grappling with since we boarded Went’s plane and shove it in a corner. “Buying a monster truck?” I’m exaggerating. It’s the biggest truck I’ve ever seen but it’s not that big.
Standing behind me in the Lear’s open doorway, Went leans down to whisper in my ear. “I’ve got a big dick, Sunshine—it’s time the world knows it.”
“Pretty sure the world already knows,” I say, the last of it ending on a laughing gasp when Went reaches down to sling me over his shoulder to carry me down the stairs like a sack of potatoes. Mook—who shot down the stairs like a bullet the second the flight attendant opened the door—sits on the tarmac at the bottom of them, waiting for us to catch up, tail wagging a mile a minute. Went spent the majority of the flight feeding him bacon from the breakfast spread on the plane. Four and a half hours later, they’re best friends.
“Traitor,” I mutter at him while Went carries me past him and Mook gives me a happy bark as my reply. “I can walk you know,” I say, lifting my head as far as I can to grumble at his shoulder.
“Sorry, Sunshine.” The hand planted on my ass slips between my legs, the side of it pressing into the juncture of them, every step he takes bumping and rubbing against my pussy. “It’s been way too long since I’ve had your ass in my face.”
Squirming against the teasing pressure of it, I swallow a moan. “It’s only been a few hours.”
“Exactly,” he says on a laugh that rumbles through his chest. Stopping in front of the truck, he pulls the passenger side door open and maneuvers me onto the waiting seat, massive shoulders wedged into the space between my thighs. Pushing them wide across the plush leather seat, his face inches from my pussy, Went grins up at me. “I think I might love this truck.”
Reaching down, I push his thick, dark hair away from his forehead on a sigh. “I know what you’re doing.”
The corner of his mouth lifts in the kind of crooked smile that never fails to stop my heart. “Thinking about stripping you out of these jeans so you can come all over my face and these brand-new leather seats?”
“No…” I shake my head on a laugh. “Distracting me.”
Still grinning, Went ups the ante by sweeping a thumb along the inside of my thigh. “Is it working?”
“Yes.” Pressing my hand against the side of his jaw, I lean down to brush my mouth against his. “Thank you.”
“That reminds me…” Moving away from me with a reluctant sigh, Went opens the rear passenger door on the truck and motions a patiently waiting Mook into the back seat. Once he’s sitting on the seat behind me, Went shuts the door before digging into the front pocket of his jeans. “I brought these,” he says, pulling his hand free. Opening it, he shows me a pair of rings.
Our rings.
He kept them.
“I figured since your dad had Damien reach out to me to get you here, he must not know what happened after he contacted Astrid’s lawyer.” Pushing himself closer, Went snags my left hand from my lap and pushes the diamond eternity band he gave me the day we got married onto my ring finger. “Don’t worry, Sunshine,” he says, looking up at me with a sheepish grin. “We’re still taking it slow. I just thought?—”
“I don’t want to take it slow.” Taking his ring from him, I slide it on his finger, my eyes welling up with tears. “You said we’re not going to hide the way we feel. That we’re going to say what we want and I want you. Every day, for the rest of my life.”
“Thank fucking Christ,” he says with a relieved laugh. “Because I’m kinda obsessed. You’re never getting rid of me.”
“If I ever run, you better chase me,” I tell him, choking back a sob.
Cupping his hand against the side of my face, Went brushes his thumb across my cheek, catching an errant tear. “You won’t even make it out the front fuckin’ door,” he promises me with another soft, lingering kiss. Pulling back, he gives me a flat, almost apologetic smile. “You ready to do this?”
Am I ready to do this?
No.
I left my mother and little sister with only a note, telling them goodbye and I left my father with nothing at all. No matter the reason I’m here, I can’t imagine any of them will be too happy to see me.
“Not really,” I answer him honestly. Sitting back with a sigh, I pull my legs into the cab of the truck. “But we better get going anyway. It’s a long drive and I’m sure they’re expecting us.”
WENT AND I SPEND THE TWO AND A HALF HOUR DRIVE talking about nothing. I told him stories about the trouble Luke used to get into as a kid, like the time he somehow managed to put a pair of our mother’s underwear on the statue of Elias Barrett in the town square and the time he thought he was the Lone Ranger and jumped off the hay loft and tried to land on Two-tone’s back.
For every story I told about my brother, he countered with one about his little sister, Delilah. About how she stole a horse from the stable in Central Park and rode naked through Strawberry Fields or how she went Viral on twitter last year for a video of her dancing topless on her penthouse balcony in Spain.
Before I knew it, we were driving into the valley.
Passing Main street, I crane my neck to look out the window, noting that nothing has changed. It looks the same as it did six years ago. Same buildings. Same businesses. Same people
“Want me to pull over,” Went asks, shooting me a concerned look from his side of the truck. “Get your bearings before we?—”
“No.” Settling back in my seat, I give him a faint smile. “I’m okay.” Reaching for his hand across the console, I look out the window. “I want to get there before dark.”
Lifting my hand to his lips, Went kisses the back of it. “Okay.” Keeping ahold of my hand, he keeps driving down the long, winding dirt road that leads to the Barr TT. Passing under its arched sign, I see the house in the distance. The paddock and stables. The barn and outbuildings. How will my mother and Abbey run this place on their own, once my father’s gone? Even with Damien’s help, it seems like an insurmountable task.
Whatever comes next, Went promised you’d face it together. He’s never lied to you, not once. Trust him.
At the end of the drive, Went turns toward the house and I see my mother standing on the front porch. Abbey and my father aren’t with her. She’s waiting for us alone.
“Someone in town must’ve called ahead and told her about the enormous black truck headed for the ranch,” I say to myself more than to Went. Turning in my seat, I look at Mook over the back of it. “Best behavior, Mook,” I tell him in my stern, dog mom voice. “Got it?”
Mook turns to press his nose against his already hopelessly smudged window with a put-upon sigh.
Rolling the truck to a stop next to my father’s, Went shifts into park and kills the engine. “Ready?”
Nope.
Still not ready.
“As I’ll ever be.” Giving him a queasy smile, I reach for my car door.
“Get your hand off that door handle, Sunshine,” he tells me while popping his own door open. “Your mother’s watching.”
Dropping my hand with a laugh, I watch while he circles the front of the truck to open my door. When my mother gets a look at him, her eyes go wide, either because of the tattoos or the fact that Went is almost as big as the truck he just jumped out of. Still laughing, I turn toward the door as it’s pulled open.
“I think I scared your mom,” he stage whisper while he wraps his hands around my waist to lift me out of the truck.
“She hasn’t fainted yet,” I say while moving to open the door for Mook. “That’s a good sign.”
“I can always show her my nipple rings,” he says, still trying to distract me before slamming my door closed. “That should do the trick.”
Watching Mook, nose to ground, on his way to lift his leg on a nearby tree, I lean into Went. “Thank you.” Looking up at him, I smile. “For coming. I know last night I said?—”
“This is where I want to be, Sunshine,” he says, reaching up to brush my hair off my forehead so he can kiss it.
Giving him a grateful smile, I slip my hand into his before I turn to look at the woman wringing her hands on the front porch steps. “Hi, Mom.”
“Kaity…” She gives me a smile before she practically tumbles down the steps in her hurry to get to me. Letting go of Went’s hand, I meet her halfway. Let her throw her arms around me. Hold me tight while she sobs against my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper in her ear while I fight back tears for the second time in one day. “I’m so?—”
“Hush now.” Pulling away, my mother smiles up at me through her tears. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
She’s wrong. I do. I have plenty to be sorry for. Even though I never regretted leaving, not even when I was bunking down in a drafty tack room and shoveling shit for fifty dollars a day on a ranch in Wyoming, I never even thought of coming back here. But that doesn’t mean I don’t regret the hurt I caused. “Mom?—”
“I said hush, Kaity.” Still smiling, my mom reaches up to pat my cheek. “We’ll talk later. Right now, I want a proper introduction to your husband.”
Husband.
Tossing a guilty look at Went over my shoulder, I catch sight of him standing a few feet behind me, Mook sitting at his feet, stumpy tail swishing through the dirt. Arm still anchored around her waist, I incline my head. “Mom, this is Went,” I say, lifting a hand in his direction. “Went, this is my mom, Hillary.”
Moving into the space between us, Went offers her his hand and one of his knock you flat smiles. “It’s nice to finally meet you properly, Mrs. Barrett.”
When his hand practically swallows hers, my mother’s eyes go wide again as they travel up the length of his torso “It’s nice to finally meet you too, Went,” she says, taking in his tattooed arms and neck. “I’d forgotten how big and… colorful you are.”
Still smiling, Went lets go of her hand. “Is my brother around?” he asks before tossing look over his shoulder at the barn, like he’s looking for him. “I’d like to?—”
“Fired him.” Looking up, I see a silhouette in the open front doorway, watching us from behind the screen door. Pushing through it, my father steps onto the porch, letting it bang closed behind him. “About six years back,” he says. “Got no room for disloyalty on my ranch.”
“ Tom ,” my mother admonishes him softly while Went goes stiff beside me and Mook presses his head into the side of my knee, all of us looking up at the man glaring down at me. If no one had told me he was sick before coming home, I’d have known anyway, the moment I saw him. Sallow skin stretched over his gaunt face. Wasted, hallow frame, swaying like it’s made of straw, ready to blow away at the slightest breeze. Like I knew he was sick, I take one look at him and know that no matter the time and illness stretched between us, my father still hates me. Blames me for every loss and hardship he’s ever had to endure. He looks at me like not a day has passed between now and the last time he saw me. Like we’re unwelcome. Like he didn’t ask me to come home.
Reaching over, I wrap a hand around Went’s forearm. I haven’t got a chance in hell of stopping him if he decides to stop playing nice but I tighten my grip anyway. “Hello, dad,” I say, thankful that my voice isn’t shaking because I’m right back where I started, feeling small and barely tolerated. Unwanted and unloved.
He doesn’t answer me. Doesn’t acknowledge me beyond staring at me, throat working like he’s got a mouthful of something bad. Before I can try again, I hear another truck coming up the road. Turning away from my father’s baleful glare, I spot a truck I don’t recognize, speeding toward us, kicking up dust in a cloud, thick enough to choke you. Looking back at my mom, I watch the corners of her mouth pull down in a frown, the change in expression aging her considerably in the span of a second.
“Mom…” Something cold crawls across the back of my neck. “Who is that?”
“That’s my daughter—” my father says, answering my question before she has a chance. “and her husband.”