Chapter 11
I wait until she’s inside before I march into the stable after Dalton. He looks fearful when he sees me coming, and I grab him by the front of his shirt and shove him against the stall door.
“Who saddled her up and let her leave?” I’ve been holding back my temper the whole ride home, and now it’s about to get unleashed.
“That would be me, sir,” he looks down at the ground ashamed of himself, and so he fucking should be. Anything could have happened out there. She wasn't armed, and even if she was, she wouldn’t have had the first clue on how to fire the damn thing.
That’s something I’m gonna have to rectify.
“It was cleared with your father, sir, and I rode her all the way to the Long Camp. Never let her outta my sight,”
Dalton can be trusted, he has no reason to lie to me, but this doesn’t explain how she ended up half naked in the river with Finn.
“From now on, when it comes to the girl, the only person you take orders from is me. You understand that?”
He nods back at me slowly, and I give him one final shove before I head back out and re-mount my horse.
I can sense her watching me from her bedroom window, but I don’t look back, instead I set off on the ride back to grid four, so I can figure out who’s ass I’m gonna have to kick for sending her into the woods alone.
* * *
Usually I enjoy spending a night under the stars, there's nothing quite like hearing a fire crack and listening to the bullshit stories wranglers make up to impress each other.
Yet tonight, all I can think about is her.
The way her top and those panties stuck to her body is a sight I won't be getting out of my head for a real long time, and I’m pissed about the fact I have to share that image with Finn.
When I found out who was to blame for sending Maisie into the woods alone, I decided to make an example of him. I dragged Seth off his horse and kicked his ass, and now he’s tied to a tree down by the river with open wounds, hoping that any bears and wolves roaming ain’t hungry tonight.
I wait for Finn to come back from being on patrol with Tate.
He’ll have heard about what happened when I returned to camp, and I’ll bet he’s waiting for his own punishment to be served.
I stand up off the cabin porch and dust off the back of my jeans, gesturing my head for him to step inside.
I figure he knows what’s coming because he sure looks worried.
I follow him in, and he starts to grovel before I’ve even closed the door.
“Look, I know you've spoken to the others about how she ended up in the woods alone, and I want you to know that it had nothing to do with me. She was already riding through when she saw me. She just stopped to talk…”
“And ended up in her underwear,” I finish his little story for him, folding my arms across my chest and waiting on an explanation,
“Well,” he shrugs his shoulders, and the smirk on his face is far too cocky for my liking.
“That was the girl’s choice. It’s been a hot day, and she was looking to have some fun,” he’s grinning at me like I’m his fucking friend now, and when he notices the cold stare I’m coming back at him with, he quickly loses his confidence.
“I… I didn’t realize she was off limits, sir, and anything that happened between us, you saw for yourself,” I shut him up with a fist to the jaw, and it doesn’t surprise me when he takes it like a man.
Finn’s good stock, he ain’t afraid to get his hands dirty, and although he’s only been here a short time, he’s naturally become one of the wranglers we rely on.
It’s one of the reasons he ain’t tied to the tree next to Seth.
“She. Is. Off. Fucking. Limits,” I make my point abundantly clear for him. “You, or any of the others, so much as look at her with an intention, and I swear to whatever you believe in, I’ll send you to it’s hell.”
“Gotcha, boss,” he nods, wiping the blood from under his nose.
“Now, we’re gonna talk about that tattoo you got on your back.
” I was too busy being mad down at the river to react, but I saw his Dirty Soul tattoo.
My uncle formed that club over thirty years ago when he abandoned his father and brother and left this ranch, and I can’t help being curious as to how one of their members has ended up here.
“My father was a branded man, he left to join the Souls with your grandfather's blessing. I was raised among them, but that’s all in the past now. I’m where I belong,” he assures me.
“Yeah, well, pasts like that tend to come back at ya. And if my father saw that tattoo, you’d be off this ranch faster than a bull out the chute,”
My uncle hasn’t given a shit about this ranch since he walked away from it.
It’s highly unlikely he’d be giving a shit now.
Finn came here on Mitch’s recommendation, and I know he stays in contact with Uncle Jimmer.
There's no coincidence in this situation, but I trust Mitch with my life. I just don’t appreciate him keeping this from me.
“I won’t ask you about it unless you give me reason to suspect your intentions.”
“I ain’t got no intentions, sir,” Finn assures me. Up to now he’s given me no reason to doubt him, so I’ll offer him my trust. He’ll be the one to suffer if he makes me regret it.
Most would class our world as a million miles away from the lifestyle of the bikers… but those who live it, and have to defend it, know differently. The purest of man can become an outlaw if he finds something worth fighting for.
I dismiss Finn to join the others and take a seat in the corner of the room, helping myself to the stash of whiskey that’s tucked away in the cupboard beside it.
Mitch tells me my grandfather built this cabin and that Pops was lying when he told us it was built for night watches, like this one.
No one ever fucked with the Carsons because the consequences were too great, and I’ll bet a lot of those consequences happened here.
It all started going wrong when Jimmer left town, my grandfather held on as long as he could, and I always wondered if losing that respect was the reason he took his own life.
Then came my old man, who decided he wanted to do things differently.
He wanted to be legit, and I’ve spent too many years watching him fail.
If this ranch stands any chance of still being here in ten years time, changes have to be made now, and I figured out quite a while ago that I was gonna have to be the one to make them.
I sit alone and stare at the floor, and for the first time in a long time I focus on something other than trying to fix it. I think about how it might have been if I were the one throwing Maisie around in the river earlier today, instead of Finn.
I wonder how it would feel to make her laugh like she ain’t got a care in the world, the way Dalton always seems to. And I torture myself imagining what it might have been like to touch her under those wet clothes.
I failed today when I gave into my own temptation, but seeing her like that made me desperate for contact.
I made Finn take her horse, just so I could have her close to me.
So her body would touch against mine, and I don’t know if she noticed it, but I smelt her hair all the way back to the yard.
It takes me a while to figure it all out, and when I do I feel the crush of devastation.
It turns out all this anger I got constantly brewing inside me when I’m with her, or even just thinking about her, ain’t anger at all.
It’s envy.
The girl’s got her whole life ahead of her, and as much as I’d like to sit here and fantasize over how it could be. I owe it to her to make damn sure it never becomes a reality.
It’s the only way I can keep her safe.