Chapter 40
Forty
LONG AS I'M brEATHING, YOU DON'T TALK ABOUT HER THAT WAY.
WYATT
Martinez doesn't waste time.
Brittney disappeared into the bathroom thirty seconds ago, and her daddy's already moving in like a coyote. "Son," he says, dropping his hand on my shoulder like he owns me. "You and I need to discuss your future."
I knock his hand off my shoulder hard enough to send a message. "There’s nothing to discuss. Brittney’s made this whole thing up." Even as I deny it, the question remains—what happened the night I can't remember?
Martinez doesn't back off. Instead, he steps closer, invading my space in a way that's meant to make me feel cornered. "The baby's real enough. I've seen the blood test."
I grit my teeth and hold my ground. "It's not mine." The seed of doubt wiggles in my mind. What if she's telling the truth about being there that night? The thought makes me sick.
Every instinct I have screams that Brittney's lying. But Martinez is betting I can't be sure—and he’s right.
"I'm taking her word over yours," he says, reaching up to adjust my collar.
His fingers brush against my throat before dropping to grip my shoulder again.
I hate his hands on me. It feels like a vice and I want to beat him to the ground.
"For whatever reason, she's set her heart on you, and I think she should have what she wants. Don't you?"
I step back, breaking contact, and his smile widens. He knows he's getting under my skin.
"No, sir, I do not."
His smile finally slips. "That's a darn shame.
" He glances around, taking in the crowd of ranchers and rodeo champions Kinsley worked so hard to gather.
"You know… I know exactly why I'm here tonight.
I know what that little woman wants from me, what your family wants from me, and I can save your family's ranch with a single phone call. "
His fingers dig in slightly, just enough to remind me that he's willing to cause me pain.
My hands curl into fists at my sides. This is a game of chicken, and he's waiting to see who breaks first. All I’m seeing is red, but I hear him out.
"I don't think you want to upset me right now, do you?" The threat hangs between us.
I take a breath, trying to find steady ground in a conversation that's tilting toward disaster.
This man's not just any bully—he's got the kind of power that can destroy everything my family's built.
But if I back down now, he'll own me. "Sir, I can understand that you want good things for your family—but this isn't the answer.
She'd be miserable with me in the long run. "
"Son," he says, and I hate the word. I hate hearing him say it and I hate the way he’s trying to make me feel small. "No woman is happy in the long run."
“Maybe not your woman,” I spit before I can think better of it.
He drops his hand from my shoulder and immediately grabs my upper arm, squeezing hard enough that I feel it through my jacket. His grip is iron—holding me in place, making it clear I don't walk away until he's done with me.
His laugh is cold, and he steps even closer—close enough that I can smell the whiskey on his breath.
He's done playing polite. "What do you think this is?
" He gestures broadly at the event, with his free hand.
"Kinsley's job is to play people, to manipulate circumstances and emotions.
I'm a Texan. I like rodeo and cowboyin' and the life it represents.
Kinsley knows this and she put together this whole shindig to make up my mind for me.
She's the biggest manipulator of them all—and she's good at it.
That's why she gets paid the big money."
His grip on my arm tightens, fingers digging in like he's proving he can make me submit without ever raising his voice. My jaw clenches. The red haze at the edges of my vision is getting harder to ignore.
"But under that ambition?" His voice drops. "She's nothing but a political prostitute."
Red explodes. I punch him before thought, before reason, before any part of me that knows better can stop it. My fist connects with his face and his head snaps back.
People around us gasp. So far, our conversation has gone unnoticed, but everyone noticed my punch.
"Keep her name out of your mouth," I growl, flexing my knuckles where they connected with his jaw.
Blood rushes in my ears and my chest heaves.
I just assaulted a United States Senator at a fundraiser meant to save my family's ranch.
But I'd do it again. "Long as I'm breathing, you don't talk about her that way. "
Martinez touches his split lip, examining the blood on his fingers with the detached interest of a man who's been hit before.
A slow smile spreads across his face—satisfied, like I just played right into his hands.
He nods to the people staring. "I'm okay folks.
Just playin' up the cowboy theme tonight. "
They turn back to their own conversations with one ear still tuned on us, but I can feel the damage spreading like ripples in water.
He steps closer to me and talks low, and now there's something darker in his eyes.
"Here's how this works. I solve all your problems and make this environmental mess disappear.
Your family keeps their ranch. Kinsley looks like the hero.
Everybody wins. All you have to do is give my baby girl the wedding she wants. Simple as that."
His voice drops to a whisper. "Or I can make sure every federal agency with jurisdiction over ranch land decides to take a very close look at Halloway operations. Kinsley fails and is blacklisted as a lobbyist. And your family is reduced to a feed store while someone else farms their land.”
I stare at him but don't answer.
"You don't want me for an enemy, Wyatt. I promise you that. Now, put on a smile for these ladies and let's all make nice."
I glance over to see Kinsley and Brook coming our way and my heart drops. Kinsley's got a careful look about her, like she's barely holding it together. It's wrong that a woman like her should seem so vulnerable.
And it's my fault. I just destroyed any chance she had of saving this night—of saving the ranch she worked so hard to help.
Martinez smooths his jacket and steps back just as they reach us, but the damage is already done.