58. Kaitlyn
FIFTY-EIGHT
Kaitlyn
MY MOTHER STEPS OUT ONTO THE PORCH WHEN SHE hears the rumble of Went’s truck engine. “I’ll be right back,” I tell him, giving his hand a quick squeeze before I jump out of the truck and make my way to the house.
“Are you leaving?” she asks, hands fidgeting with her apron. “I made dinner. I’d hoped?—”
“Dad doesn’t want me here,” I remind her gently. “But no, we’re not leaving yet. There are still some things I need to figure out before we can go home.”
“I understand…” Lips pursed, my mother nods her head while coming down the stairs. “I went up to Northpoint this morning and got it ready for visitors,” she tells me quietly. “You and Went can stay up there as long as you need.”
“Thank you, Mom,” I say, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “In that case, we’ll head into town and grab a few things from the grocery store for breakfast in the morning.” I don’t tell her we were headed to town anyway or why. “Do you need anything?”
Lifting her hand, she pats me on the cheek with a bittersweet smile. “Just to see your face in the morning.” Dropping her hand, she steps back onto the porch. Turning, she aims a smile at Went’s truck. “I like him, Kaity.”
“Me too.” Voice rusty for some reason, I smile back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mom.”
Climbing back into the truck, I watch my mother shrink in the rearview while she watches us drive away.
ON THE WAY TO TOWN, I EXPLAIN TO WENT WHERE we’re going and why. What sort of threat Brock levied against my sister to force her into marrying him.
“That motherfucker,” Went mutters under his breath, huge hands strangling the steering wheel. “Is that why your father fired Damien? Because?—”
“No.” Looking away from him, I watch Barrett Valley come into view through my window. It’s heading toward dinner time, The only businesses that are still open are the diner, the bar that’s attached to it, and the grocery store across the street. “That was Abbey’s doing. She told my father that he gave me away at our wed—” Unable to say the last word out loud, I shake my head. “She was desperate to get him away from Brock’s accusations and Damien refused to leave. She did what she had to do to get him out of Barrett.”
“I get it.” Went looks over at me before maneuvering his truck into a spot in front of the grocery store. “I wouldn’t have left you behind either.”
You didn’t.
You didn’t leave me behind.
You took me with you.
Throat suddenly tight, I nod my head. “I made a mess when I left and now I have to?—”
“We.” Reaching across the center console, Went wraps a large, tattooed hand around the back of my neck to pull me closer. “ We made a mess, Sunshine.” Leaning into me, he presses his mouth against mine. “One we’re gonna fix—together.” Letting me go with a reassuring smile, Went casts his gaze out the windshield at the small storefront in front of us. “Is that what we’re doing here?”
“Aside from getting a few staples to carry us through tomorrow—yes.” Giving him a nod, I take off my seatbelt. “I figure Brock can’t tell people that Damien killed me and threw my body in the lake if I’m seen walking around town with my giant, tattooed husband.” Lifting my hand, I flash my ring at him before I turn around to look at Mook in the back seat. “Be a good boy and I’ll buy you a steak, okay?”
Mook gives me a quiet chuff and flops down across the seat while Went adjusts the windows, cracking them to let in the cool evening air before he climbs out of his seat. Rounding the front of the truck, Went opens my door and helps me out of it. Across the street, the Saddle’s front door is propped open with a bar stool. Loud country music pours into the street, mingling with the hard clack of pool balls and raucous laughter. Even on a Tuesday, the town’s only bar does a brisk business. Ranch hands unwinding after a long day in the saddle. Town kids and ranch kids alike, playing pool and sneaking beers while singing along to the jukebox because it’s summertime and none of them have school in the morning.
Last time I was here, Abbey was one of those kids.
Now she’s Brock Morris’s wife.
The mother of his child.
I’m to blame for that and it’s something I need to fix.
I wait for Went to lock the truck doors and set the alarm before he joins me on the sidewalk. “Peggy—her husband owns the grocery store and she works the register—is going to stare,” I warn him quietly while I slip my hand into his. “She’s also going to call everyone in this town with a working phone number to tell them that Kait Barrett waltzed into her store out of nowhere with a giant with neck tattoos to buy coffee and paper towels.”
“Should I show her my nipple rings?” He asks me with a devilish grin.
I laugh. I can’t help it because he’s doing it again. Somehow making what feels like an impossible situation manageable. Like I’m strong enough to handle whatever my father and Brock decide to throw at me.
“I love you.” It tumbles out of my mouth before I have a chance to reel it in but rather than feel embarrassed or panicked about saying it out loud, I feel good. One more bucket item list crossed off. “Come on,” I say, smiling up at his slightly dumbstruck expression before he has a chance to answer me back. “Let’s go start some rumors.”