Chapter 24
SETH
I’ve read my father’s text message three times now.
Meet me after the morning meeting out in front of the town hall. You don’t need to attend today since you got a bit heated yesterday, but we can go through the numbers together and talk through anything you found.
Heated. That’s one word for it. Another might be justified, furious, or ready to tear Holden’s throat out with my bare hands. But sure. Heated works.
I stand on the sidewalk outside the town hall, shoulders hunched against the morning chill, and pull up the email Joshua sent an hour ago.
The subject line is simple: Yesterday’s count.
I open the attachment on my phone and scroll, thumb moving fast over rows of handwritten totals turned into neat columns.
Tickets. Concessions. Merchandise. Every sale tracked in real time.
The numbers look right.
Not perfect, not polished, but right in that gut-level way you learn after years of running events.
They match what I saw yesterday, the packed stands, the constant lines, the vendors barely keeping up.
And much closer to the kind of revenue we’ve pulled in at past stops on the circuit when things are running clean.
Which is exactly why my jaw tightens.
Because Holden’s story about the first two days has been one of underperformance.
Lower totals. Smaller margins. A steady drip of disappointment that never quite turns into a crisis, just enough to keep everyone resigned and distracted.
If yesterday was this strong, then day one and day two should not have been as weak as Holden made them sound.
That missing chunk of money did not evaporate. It had to be redirected.
I keep scrolling, double-checking categories, scanning for any obvious mistake, any reason to doubt it. There isn’t one. The pattern is too consistent, too clean, and it lines up too well with my memory of the day.
Footsteps crunch behind me on the pavement. I look up and spot my father coming down the sidewalk, hands in the pockets of his pants, expression set in that hard, unreadable way he gets when he’s already bracing for bad news. He slows when he sees my face.
“Seth,” he says, stopping in front of me. “Thanks for waiting.”
“Do you have the numbers from Holden?”
He pulls a folded sheet from his pocket and passes it over.
I take it, scan it once, and the anger in me sharpens. Even without going line by line, it’s what I suspected. Underreported. Neat. Convenient.
I lift my phone. “Joshua tracked yesterday by hand. Proper count. Every ticket, every food sale, every piece of merch.”
My father’s eyes narrow. “Joshua who?”
“Local guy running the tickets at the rodeo,” I say. “He’s not on Holden’s payroll, and he has no reason to lie to me.”
My father takes the phone from my hand and scrolls, then looks down at Holden’s printout, and then back to my screen. He does it again, slower this time. His face doesn’t change much, but his jaw sets harder with each pass.
When he finally looks up, the air between us feels heavier.
“It’s short,” he says, voice flat.
“About a third,” I reply.
My father stares back toward the town hall, then back at me, and his jawline clenches. “That son of a bitch,” he says quietly. “He’s been skimming money from us.”
My father snatches the printout back, staring at it as if the numbers might rearrange themselves into something less damning. They don’t.
“Are you certain about this? Your contact is reliable?”
“Joshua has worked for the circuit for as long as we’ve been coming to this town.
He has no reason to inflate or change anything.
These are actual sales, Dad. Real transactions recorded as they happened.
So why don’t they match what Holden’s reporting?
Even if there was some margin for error, it shouldn’t be this wide. ”
“Hell.” My father’s voice stays low, but there’s steel in it. “That bastard has been playing us. I trusted him and the committee’s systems, their processes.”
“Holden has full access to the financials,” I say. “Joshua confirmed it. If he adjusts the totals after the fact and skims the difference, it looks clean on paper. Nobody questions it because nobody thinks to.”
My father’s jaw flexes. Then he starts walking again, faster, boots striking the sidewalk in sharp, angry steps. I fall in beside him.
“This isn’t pocket change,” he mutters. “That gap’s too damn consistent.
” He glances down at the sheet in his hand, then away, as if looking at it might make him angrier.
“If it’s running about a third short and it’s been happening since day one, you multiply that across the full run, and we’re talkin’…
” His mouth tightens. “A hell of a lot.”
“At least half a million,” I say.
He stops so abruptly that I nearly run into him. He turns to face me, anger in every line of him, cheeks flushed, fists clenched at his sides.
“All that money is ours,” he says, each word clipped. “I should’ve seen it. The excuses. The disappointing reports. The way he kept pushing that story about the town losing interest. He was setting expectations low so nobody went looking.”
“You couldn’t have known,” I tell him, because I mean it. Holden played it careful. He fed everyone just enough truth to make the lies believable.
My father shakes his head, sighing. He drags a hand across his mouth, breath harsh. “I got complacent. Trusted the wrong people. But not again,” he says quietly. “Not on my watch.”
We stand there for a moment, both of us processing. Then I nod toward a building up ahead. Sweetwater Creek Realty. June’s office.
“Come on. We need to bring the others up to speed.”
The morning light catches the windows of the real estate office as we approach. Through the glass, I spot movement inside. June, Carter, and Kai. My pack. My family.
Something warm spreads through my chest despite the anger still simmering beneath the surface.
We push through the door, and three heads turn toward us simultaneously.
June is perched on the edge of her desk, looking effortlessly beautiful in a short skirt and a loose blouse that keeps slipping off one shoulder.
Every time I see her, the pull gets stronger.
The bond humming beneath my skin, demanding more.
Carter is sprawled in the burgundy armchair, long legs stretched out in front of him, looking annoyingly comfortable for a man about to compete in front of thousands.
Kai is leaning against the wall near the window, arms crossed, radiating the kind of restless energy that usually precedes him doing something monumentally stupid.
“Morning, Mr. Benton,” Carter says, rising to shake my father’s hand. “Good to see you, this morning.”
“Carter. Kai.” My father has known these two for years now. Watched them grow from promising young riders into the stars of his circuit. Bailed them out of trouble more times than I care to count. “How are you boys holding up?”
“Ready to cause some trouble,” Kai says with a grin. “As always.”
“Try to keep it legal.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
My father almost smiles. Almost. “I don’t doubt you’ll find a way.”
His attention shifts to June, and his expression softens noticeably. The change is subtle but unmistakable. “June. I hope these three aren’t giving you too much grief.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” She smiles.
I move to stand beside her, my hand finding the small of her back automatically.
The contact settles something in my chest, even as the rest of me stays coiled tight.
“The numbers are in, and it’s worse than we thought,” I tell the pack.
Then I go through and explain what Dad and I were chatting about earlier.
“That piece of shit.” Kai pushes off the wall, his whole body going tense.
I spread Joshua’s printout and my phone on June’s desk, and everyone gathers around. “Look at the comparison. Actual sales versus what Holden reported to my father.”
Carter lets out a low whistle. “Jesus. And I bet the difference is disappearing into his pocket.”
“None of this would have come to light without June,” I say, addressing my father but keeping my eyes on her. “She’s the one who started pulling at the thread.”
June meets my gaze, and I give her a small nod.
“Go on,” my dad asks of her.
“I discovered something at first,” she explains. “From the night Seth got arrested. He wasn’t drunk.”
My father’s brow furrows. “I don’t understand.”
“Someone spiked his drink,” she says. “We found security footage from the bar showing a woman likely slipping something into Seth’s glass. An out-of-towner. A friend and I tracked her down and got a confession.”
“Who the hell is she? Why?” My father’s voice rises.
“Holden paid her,” I say. “He wanted me to look drunk and out of control. If everyone’s whispering about the Benton boy’s public meltdown, then maybe fewer people will attend and nobody will ask why the numbers don’t add up.”
The room goes quiet.
My father sinks into the chair behind June’s desk, and for the first time in my life, he looks… older. He drags a hand down his face and lets out a heavy breath through his nose, the kind that sounds too controlled to be anything but anger.
June leans forward with her palms on the desk, eyes sharp.
“He paid a woman to spike Seth’s drink,” she says, blunt as a hammer.
“My friend and I got her to admit it. She thought it was just a prank, that it would make him look reckless. She didn’t know Holden was using it to cover a financial mess he created. ”
My father’s head snaps up, and his gaze locks on her.
“I told you I didn’t get drunk that night,” I add. “I knew something was wrong. I just couldn’t prove it.”
My father’s jaw twitches. He stares in my direction, and there’s something raw in his gaze I’m not used to seeing. “I should have believed you,” he says. “I’m sorry, son.”
The apology is new. My father doesn’t apologize, not ever, so hearing it now, in front of everyone, tells me exactly how deep this cut goes.
My father turns to June. “June, I can’t thank you enough. You’ve saved this circuit more than you know.” His gaze shifts to me, then to Kai and Carter, and a faint smile tugs at his mouth. “And I can see exactly why my boys are so taken with you.”
June’s cheeks color, her lips curling upward at the corners. “They’re not the only ones with good taste,” she replies, dry and bold, and it’s enough to make Kai choke on a laugh behind me.
My father’s smile sharpens, pleased by the spine.
“Good,” he says simply. Then the warmth drains and the businessman returns.
“I’m contacting my lawyers immediately. Get Joshua to do another account, and if today’s numbers come back similar when compared to Holden’s, we move fast before he gets wind and tries to disappear. ”
“He’s not running,” June says, voice edged now. “He just agreed to buy my house and my business from my parents. He’s planting roots. He thinks he’s about to set himself up permanently with money he stole.”
My father’s expression turns dark. “Then we’ll make sure he doesn’t profit from any of it.” He stands, and the air shifts with him. “We’ll burn his whole plan to the ground.”
He claps my shoulder on his way out, grip firm. “Good work, Seth. All of you. I’ll be in touch.”
The door swings shut behind him. For a beat, none of us move.
Then Carter exhales and breaks the silence. “Well. That was fucking great progress.”
“Understatement of the century,” Kai says, pacing, restless energy spilling out of him. “So we’ve got initial proof he might be stealing and proof he tried to frame you. What now?”
“Now we go to the police to see what they need in order to start searching,” I state.
“We get official charges, see if we can lock down the records, and we force an audit of everything he’s touched.
” My mind is already shifting into problem-solving mode, anger turning into action.
“I’ll speak to the sheriff this morning.
We get it on record before Holden realizes we’re onto him and he has time to spin a story. ”
“I’ll come with you,” June says, already moving.
“No.” I step in front of her. I cup her face in my hands.
“You go to the rodeo with Carter and Kai. Carter’s up soon, and I won’t be long.
” I press a kiss to her forehead and breathe her in.
I pull back, then steal a real kiss. Short, no nonsense, enough to put the taste of her on my tongue and remind her she is ours.
Carter stands and stretches, all long limbs and confidence. “Come on, beautiful. You can watch me be incredible on horseback. It’ll change your life.”
June snorts.
Kai slips an arm around June’s shoulders and steers her toward the door. “Let’s go before Carter starts turning into a greeting card. I want to check on the Brutus setup anyway. Make sure Crawford’s got everything ready for tomorrow.”
We all head out, June locking the door and then being flanked by Carter and Kai. She glances back over her shoulder at me. The smile she gives me is captivating, and all mine.