Chapter Three
WIND WHIPPED AGAINST Doc’s skin as he sped down the dark road on his motorcycle. He’d been riding full throttle for hours, trying to outrun the pain that had been clawing its way up from the dredges of his soul since he’d left the hospital. But for the second time in his life, wind therapy wasn’t doing a damn thing to take the edge off his shitty mood. According to his family, it had taken him months to get out from under his anger and pain after that fateful summer, but he knew the truth. It had taken a hell of a lot longer than that. He’d just learned to hide it better.
Why the fuck was Juliette back in Hope Valley?
He chewed on that as he drove toward the ranch. With any luck, his family would still be at the rally. He’d hauled ass away from the hospital before Birdie had a chance to spout off to everyone about what had gone down. He hated that his little sister had witnessed that shit. Not because she would tell everyone, although he knew she would, but because if anyone ever treated her that way, he’d fucking knock their teeth out.
As he turned into the ranch, the tightness in his chest didn’t ease like it usually did when he drove beneath the wooden beam with an iron RR on top—the first R, backward.
The ranch spanned a few hundred acres and had been in his family for decades. Doc had grown up there and had never wanted to work or live anywhere else. They’d saved too many horses to count and helped hundreds of people of all ages who were previously incarcerated, in recovery, or just having a rough time finding their footing, giving them support and a sense of family they so desperately needed. But after what happened with Juliette, every fucking inch of that property reminded Doc of her. It was that family—found and biological—and his passion for the ranch’s mission, that kept him there.
He drove past the rehabilitation and well-animal barns, the riding arenas and pastures, and the road that led to the therapeutic offices and turned off the main road, navigating the narrow lanes that led to his house. Doc liked his privacy and lived in a three-bedroom log home off the beaten path, away from the cabins that housed live-in clients and staff and out of sight from his family’s homes.
As he drove down his driveway, his brothers’ and father’s motorcycles came into view. He parked beside them, his muscles tensing as he climbed off his bike. His three dogs barreled off the porch—Pickles, a husky/shepherd mix, Mighty, a black Lab, and Sadie, an Irish setter—followed by his father, Cowboy, and Dare.
Seeley was not in the mood for an inquisition.
He pulled off his helmet and loved up his dogs, eyeing the others. “Did someone die?”
“You tell us,” his father said gruffly.
Doc gritted his teeth. His father was one of the toughest men he knew. Like each of his sons, if the situation called for it, he’d morph from the loyalest, fairest man in the room to the deadliest. He managed the family the same way he managed the ranch, with high expectations, strict rules, and enough rope to let them hang themselves. But he was always there to cut them down before it turned fatal, because beneath that gruff exterior was a warm, loving heart.
The dogs vied for more of his attention, their tails wagging, their noses pushing into Doc’s hands. Doc snapped his fingers, commanding, “ Enough .” Sadie plunked down her butt, while Mighty and Pickles bounded off to play.
“Birdie told us what went down with Juliette. Are you okay?” Dare asked. He was always trying to get them to talk shit out.
Fuck no . “I’m fine.” He turned on his father, who made it his business to know every single fucking thing that went on in and around their town that could possibly affect their family, the residents of Hope Valley, or the club. “Did you know she was in town?”
“Hal mentioned it a few weeks ago,” his father said. Hal Braden was one of his father’s oldest friends. He owned a ranch two towns away in Weston, Colorado.
Anger drew Doc’s shoulders back, his voice rising. “A few weeks ago, and you didn’t think you should tell me?” Sadie popped up on all fours, watching them.
“It’s not my job to manage your personal life. But what if I had told you?” His father stepped closer, his dark eyes challenging. “You’d’ve been a fucking mess, and it wouldn’t have changed a damn thing about today.”
“You don’t know that,” Doc fumed, his chest puffing out.
Cowboy stepped between them. “Whoa, Doc. He’s right. The mention of her name has always set you off.”
“There’s no shame in that, bro,” Dare added too damn supportively. “I don’t know all of what went down back then, but I know enough. The way her father treated you would piss anyone off.”
Doc clenched his teeth, his fingers curling tighter around his helmet.
His father put a hand on Cowboy’s shoulder. “Move aside, son.” Cowboy stepped out from between them, and his father said, “She inherited her grandmother Hazel’s estate. She’s living in Weston with her boy and working for Jade.” Jade Braden was one of Hal’s daughters-in-law.
She’s back for good? Hazel is dead? The world spun, conflicting emotions pummeling him. He was furious that Juliette was back, but he was also gutted for her. She had been closer to her grandmother, who had bred horses for a living, than she was to her own mother. He hadn’t seen Hazel since that long-ago summer, but they’d spent so much time with her, she’d left a mark on his heart, too.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Dare asked.
“I’ve got nothing to say.” Doc plowed past them, heading for the porch.
Cowboy grabbed his arm. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
Locked in a stare down with Cowboy, he yanked his arm free. “If you stick around, I’ll be giving our old man a different answer to his initial question.”
“A’right, boys, clear outta here,” his father ordered.
“I don’t think we should leave,” Dare said.
“Then stop thinking and get your ass on that bike,” his father said, climbing onto his own motorcycle.
Cowboy gritted out a curse, but he and Dare reluctantly got on their bikes. As they drove away, Doc headed up the porch steps with Sadie in tow.
“ Seeley John ,” his father said sharply.
Doc’s gut roiled. He steeled himself, readying to be chewed out, which he probably deserved for being a prick. He turned, lifting his chin. “Yeah?”
His father’s eyes narrowed, studying him the way he’d done Doc’s whole life. Like he could see right through the bullshit, through the fucking lead walls Doc had erected around himself, to the very root of his pain.
Doc swallowed hard, knowing his father was one of only two people who actually could read him that accurately.
His father took a deep breath, blowing it out as he nodded, as if he understood every damn thing going on inside Doc’s head and heart. But how could he, when Doc didn’t even get it?
“You do what you have to tonight, son, but you do it knowing we love you, and we’re here for you. The whole damn brotherhood is here for you. I had to put my foot down to keep Ezra, Rebel, Hyde, and Taz from showing up here.” His cousin Rebel and their ranch hands Hyde and Taz were all Dark Knights. “But if that burden gets too heavy, you make a call. Ya hear?”
Doc gave a curt nod, his throat thickening.
As he and Sadie headed inside, his father’s engine roared to life, fading as he drove away. Doc put his helmet and keys on the table by the door and went directly to his bar. Sadie stuck to him like glue as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey, opening it on his way out the back door.
He took a swig as he sank into a chair on the deck overlooking the creek, relishing the burn as it slid down his throat.
Mighty and Pickles bounded onto the deck.
Doc petted them absently, taking another long pull of whiskey. He looked up at the sky. “What the fuck are you doing?” He wasn’t a religious man, and he didn’t know if he was talking to the universe or to himself. But it didn’t matter. Nobody answered him.
Tipping the bottle again, he welcomed the warmth spreading through his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he drank himself stupid, but tonight he was determined to speed through stupid and crash into numbness. He swallowed another mouthful and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, gripping the neck of the bottle.
He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sounds of the creek and crickets and the rustling of leaves, rather than the ghosts of his past rattling the chains he’d used to keep them at bay and hissing in his ears. But his futile attempts were squashed as memories slammed into him.
He was back at college in Fort Collins, unable to concentrate on anything other than seeing Juliette and convincing her father he was making a horrible mistake. It had been two weeks of unanswered calls and texts, and fighting with everyone. He’d begged his father to get the club involved, to shove the governor’s threats down his fucking throat. But the governor was a powerful man with a history of ruining anyone who stood in his way, and Tiny wasn’t willing to risk everyone’s future or the future of the ranch. Most importantly, Tiny had said he wasn’t willing to risk Seeley’s reputation. That it wouldn’t matter if the governor was lying or not. Those were the types of accusations that followed a man like a shadow.
But Seeley hadn’t been raised to back down, and he’d had enough. He’d climbed onto his motorcycle and driven to the governor’s home in Boulder, mentally rehearsing what he’d say the whole way there.
He drove past the massive brick Colonial twice, noting the same two burly bodyguards flanking the front door that had shown up the day her father had taken her away from the ranch. They were dressed in dark suits, but there was no mistaking their military-type stances. They were ready for battle. So was he. He parked around the corner, his heart thundering as he climbed off his bike, and with his head held high, he went to speak his mind and get the girl he loved with everything he had.
As he approached the front door, the larger of the two bodyguards, a bald man with cold eyes, stepped off the porch, blocking his way.
Seeley stood his ground. “I’m here to speak with Governor Adkin.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Whiskey. You’re not welcome here.”
“I’m not leaving until I speak to the governor.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“My ass it’s not.” Seeley tried to walk around him, but the man moved with him, and the other bodyguard descended the steps. Fuck this. Seeley looked up at the house and shouted, “Hey, Governor! You want to threaten my family? Get out here and face me like a man!”
The bodyguards grabbed his arms, trying to drag him off the property, but he fought back, shouting, hoping causing a scene would be enough to bring the governor outside. “Come on, you coward! Fight your own battles! I love your daughter, and I will make her mine!”
The front door opened, and Governor Adkin stepped outside. “Let him go.”
Seeley tore his arms free and barreled up the walkway, but before he could get a word out, the governor’s voice cut through the air.
“I actually feel bad for you, Seeley. You think you’re something special to Juliette.” With a sinister grin, he shook his head. “My daughter is an expert manipulator. The tears you saw, the proclamations of her love? They were all for show. She could never be serious with a boy like you.”
“You’re lying,” Seeley bit out. “She doesn’t have a manipulative bone in her body.” He stepped toward the prick, but the bodyguards moved between them.
“She really did a job on you,” the governor said. “That’s a shame. You seem like a fairly smart kid. Open your eyes, Seeley. You were her summer fling. Her last hurrah. She’s already back together with Josh, so do yourself a favor and find a girl who’s more your kind, and don’t ever come around here again. This was your one free pass. Next time your family will pay the price.”
Seeley saw red. “Juliette is my fucking kind, you lying bastard! Get her out here!” He plowed forward, but the bodyguards grabbed him again. “Let go, you motherfuckers! Juliette! Juliette, come out!”
“Get him out of here,” the governor directed over Seeley’s shouts and curses. “And make sure he understands my message.”
Seeley struggled as the men dragged him around to the back of the house and fought for all he was worth as they carried out the governor’s demands.
Doc sat back, taking another swig of whiskey. They’d dropped him, bloody and bruised, in the grass by his bike. He’d been too full of rage to feel the physical blows, but despite not believing what the governor had said, the emotional strikes were torture. Right there and then, lying in the grass, Doc had vowed to save Juliette from that monster’s wrath.
He’d never told a soul what went down that day. He didn’t want to see the disappointment in his parents’ eyes. He’d gone back to school and had told his buddies he’d gotten into a scuffle. He tried to keep his vow to Juliette but made a point of staying away from the governor’s house, afraid of his parents having to deal with the repercussions of his actions. For weeks he’d gone by Juliette’s private school and all of her favorite hangouts, but he’d never once seen her coming or going.
Two months later Cowboy had sent him a link to Juliette’s engagement announcement to Josh Fucking Chambers, putting the nail in that coffin.