Chapter 3
THREE
MADDOX
I walk into my sister’s room with one hand over my eyes.
For years and years, our parents raised their sons and daughters exactly the same. Then Bailey hit puberty and suddenly, no man in the house could walk anywhere without stepping on one kind of minefield or another.
Whether it was seeing your little sister’s lacy panties in the laundry by mistake, a shared bathroom trashcan with the tampons of three women whose cycles had synced, or a wardrobe malfunction during creek swimming, the men in this family had learned about women through trial by fire.
The lesson I’d soldered into my brain at this point when it came to my sisters?
Covering my eyes to avoid seeing shit I’d never be able to unsee.
“Bails,” I try to whisper, but the woman sleeps like the dead. I’d tapped my knuckle against the door before I came in, but unless I wanted to wake the whole house up, I had to enter Bailey’s lair and hope she didn’t mistake me for an intruder and tase me.
Her cattle dog, Rainy, jumps off her bed and runs over to me, the clicks of her nails against the floor my only warning before she starts bouncing around to be pet. I pull my hand from my eyes so I can avoid stepping on her.
“Bails, wake up. Jesus Christ!”
Despite my best efforts, I trip over the dog, not even hurting her but she yelps anyway and jumps back up on the bed. Bailey shoots up, clutching the blanket to her chest and breathing heavily as she tries to piece together what happened.
“Maddie, what the fuck?”
I assume it’s probably terrifying for her to wake up to a man in her pitch-black bedroom, but considering I’ve been whisper-yelling her name for a minute now and I was already in a shitty mood, I didn’t appreciate the attitude.
“Your fucking twin ended up in the slammer for brawling at the bar. Since you’re the only one he’ll listen to besides Mama, and I don’t want her finding out about this, I need you to come with me to get him out.
” I tell her, turning my back to her in case she throws something at me.
She’s got a wicked aim and doesn’t appreciate being woken up.
She groans and falls back onto her bed. I wait for the rustle of her sheets or the sound of Rainy’s nails against the floor again, but the room stays quiet. “Bailey?”
“I’m coming!” she growls.
It really doesn’t sound like she’s moving at all, but another thing I’ve learned about the women in this family is not to argue with them when they’re already pissed off.
Instead, I head down to the kitchen and grab one of the two million colorful metal cups in the cabinet, filling it with ice water as a peace offering.
Bailey emerges five minutes later wearing sweatpants and a men’s hoodie with a beanie mostly covering her brown hair. She heads to the front door to shove her bare feet into a pair of boots and I’m trying to decide if it’s worth getting bitched out to remind her how cold it is outside.
I really just need her in the cab of my pickup in the next two minutes so Theo’s dad doesn’t decide to officially book Colt and Travis, so I just grab someone’s Carhartt off the hook and hold the front door open for her.
Deputy Walker had agreed not to as a favor, but the longer we took to get there, the longer the two of them had to run their mouths and change the cop’s mind.
“Don’t know why I even had to come,” Bailey grumbles as she takes her cup of water from me, sucking it down greedily without thanking me.
“I told you already,” I explain, trying to keep my tone as steady as possible as I open the truck’s passenger door for her.
I can’t stand repeating myself, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sorta terrified of Bailey.
“Colt hates me. If I go in there alone, he’s gonna let himself get booked just to prove a point, and Mama doesn’t need that.
You’re my best shot at getting him home before sunrise. You can cuss the whole time.”
I toss the extra jacket in her lap and by the time I’ve walked around the hood of the pickup, Bailey has slumped down in the seat and put her boot-covered feet up on the dash, arms crossed.
Her head is pillowed on the jacket against the door and her eyes are closed like she thinks she’s gonna catch some extra sleep on the ten-minute trip to the jail.
Normally, I’d harp at her to put her feet on the floorboard for safety’s sake, but it’s a short trip and it’s late enough that there most likely won’t be anyone else out driving.
The ding of the seatbelt warning echoes repeatedly in the cab and annoys the shit out of me, but I swear I can hear Bailey’s unspoken dare to say something, so I just grip the wheel harder until it times out right as I reach the open gate.
I turn onto the main road as gently as I can, but Bailey still huffs as though I’ve slung her across the cab with the motion.
I’d hoped the old family motto would make Bailey at least crack a grin, but no such luck apparently.
When we were younger, our father used to offer to let us cuss to get through something we didn’t want to do.
Usually, that was putting peroxide on a skinned knee or going to visit our Aunt Meredith, who loved to pinch our cheeks.
It became something we’d barter. Didn’t want to eat the green beans on our plate?
Tough luck, we had to eat them anyway, but it was always, “Can I cuss the whole time, Dad?” Mama hated it, but Dad got a kick out of it.
Even though skinned knees were rarely a concern anymore and Aunt Meredith had died several years back, we still liked to pull it out on occasion.
When we get to the sheriff’s office, she’s out of the truck before I can even put it in park, stomping toward the door like attitudes are welcome here. I catch up just in time to open the door for her to storm through, but run slap into her back when I try to follow her because she’s stopped short.
Should I have told Bailey that her ex was also a part of the brawl and would be here as well?
Probably.
Should I have noticed it was Cartwright’s old hoodie she’d thrown on and assumed it would be the last thing she’d want him to see her wearing, considering she goes out of her way to avoid him?
No.
Because why the fuck would I notice that?
Won’t stop her from chewing my ass out for it later, though.
In my defense, I thought they’d be in the holding cells in the back and that the deputy would only release Travis and Colt to us, meaning Bailey wouldn’t even know Chase was involved until later.
Unfortunately, Colt and Chase are sitting in chairs on opposite sides of the lobby with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Travis is nowhere to be found.
The sight of her ex throws Bailey off for a few seconds, but when she gets her ass in gear and rounds on Colt, we’re all wincing at the earful he gets.
“Colton Dean, you are twenty-six years old! Why the fuck am I being dragged out of bed at one in the morning to come get your ass from jail?”
Deputy Walker clears his throat. “I’m gonna give you all some privacy. He can’t leave till he’s signed out, so just holler when you’re ready to go and I’ll unlock his cuffs. Only had one cell available and couldn’t put ‘em all together.”
“Need to sign Travis out too,” I remind him as he ambles down the hall.
“Nah, he’s not going anywhere for a while. He’s got coke in his system. He’ll be booked and I’ll call to let you know the bail when the judge sets it,” he calls back, disappearing through one of the doors as though our cousin being high on cocaine wasn’t a surprise.
But it was. Coke had been a growing issue in Cedar Creek for years, but I didn’t know Travis was doing the shit. Bailey isn’t as concerned about our cousin as she is about her twin, the deputy’s words barely even reaching her.
“I’m waiting,” she seethes through gritted teeth, hands on her hips as she looks down at Colt.
He ducks his head, slumping down in his chair like a little boy. “Bails, c’mon, cut it out,” he mumbles, eyes darting over to where Chase sits. I don’t know why he’s embarrassed. It’s not like Chase hasn’t been on the receiving end of Bailey’s ire before.
“Colton, just take the whoopin’ so we can get home,” I tell him with a sigh, leaning back against the wall and crossing my ankles and arms. Bailey wasn’t gonna let us leave till she tore into Colt properly.
As much as she hated being in the same room as Chase again, I think we both know lecturing him in front of an audience is the best way to make sure he won’t risk doing something like this again.
Colt sits up in the chair pretty quickly for a man with his hands cuffed behind his back, looking over at me with all the malice Bailey’s attitude deserves, but he won’t give her.
“I don’t even know why you’re here. You wanted me to get my ass chewed out, fine, but Bailey has a truck of her own.
She could’ve driven herself here and signed me out without you. ”
Bailey huffs. “Can you guys stop?” she asks, voice softer with exhaustion. “I’m sick of you two being at each other’s throats and I’d like to get back home and get a few more hours of sleep before I’ve gotta be up for school.”
Shit. I’d forgotten that Bailey had to wake up early for school tomorrow. It was always a struggle for me to get used to her schedule at first and by the time I did, she’d be done for the year. I felt like shit for dragging her out of bed now, but I couldn’t think of another way to get Colt home.
“You’re back in school, BJ?” Chase asks from the chair across the room. He’d been quiet until now, something that was in his best interest, but clearly he no longer cared about that. I cut my eyes over to him, finding a proud smile on his face, despite her ignoring his question.
Bailey had been back in school for a few years now, but I guess Chase had no way of knowing that. She was only able to take classes during the ranch’s off season, so it was taking her awhile to get her degree.
“He was saying shit about you and I let him get under my skin,” Colt finally admits.
Bailey softens. “I don’t care if he called me the worst names known to man, Colt. Your goddamn belt buckle’s worth more than he is, and he damn sure isn’t worth you risking your sponsorships this close to going back on the road.”
“Hey!” Chase interrupts halfway through. He’s ignored again.
“We’re ready to head out!” I call down the hall, hoping to get Colt and Bailey out of here before Chase decides to really start running his mouth.
The deputy takes his time, wiping crumbs from his mustache as he walks back to the desk.
He clicks around on the computer so slowly Bailey looks half-tempted to go behind the desk and do it for him, but eventually the printer spits out a form and he lays it on the corner of the desk with a pen for her.
He spins his finger at Colt, who turns his back to the deputy to get his cuffs unlocked.
“What about me?” Chase asks with a wry grin that probably charms a lot of women, but if it ever worked on my sister, it doesn’t anymore.
“What about you, Chase?” she asks with a sigh, setting the pen back down on the desk and sliding the form back over to Deputy Walker.
“Don’t you wanna give me a talking-to and take me home with you?” he jokes, waggling his brows at her.
The look Bailey gives him isn’t one any man would want from a woman he’s in love with, especially when he hasn’t seen her in years. Even Colt makes a sympathetic face as he turns toward the door to give them as much privacy as he can without stepping out into the cold.
Deputy Walker didn’t have a problem listening in this time, but the details of what happened between Bailey and Chase were one of Cedar Creek’s only mysteries, so it made sense he’d want to stick around.
“I’d have to be disappointed in you to want to give you a talking-to Chase, and honestly, I’m so past disappointed in you that I’ve stopped giving a fuck entirely. The best I can do is call your mama for you if you want.”
Her tone sounds more defeated than I’ve ever heard it before, and I hate myself for putting her through having to face him.
She and Chase were complicated. They got together in middle school—as much as two middle schoolers could get together—and stayed a couple despite having to go long-distance while he was in college. He fucked it up in his senior year.
It had broken my sister. Between Dad dying, Chase cheating, and the road trip we’d gone on that no one else knew about, Bailey’s strength had been tested. She hasn’t been the same since.
She threw herself into wearing as many hats as she could on the ranch—social media manager, accountant, payroll, HR. During the off season, things slowed down, so she spent her winters working towards a degree in finance. She couldn’t stand not having something to do.
Chase’s jaw clenches and the smile drops from his face. “Nah, don’t do me any favors, BJ. Get your pansy-ass little brother home safe and tell him to leave me alone next time I’m trying to get my dick wet.”
Colt jerks toward Chase again, but Bailey pushes him toward the door and outside. I linger.
“For what it’s worth, I think if you can get your head on straight, stop fucking around with any girl that walks your way, maybe grovel a bit, you could get her back,” I tell him.
I can’t help it. I pity the man a bit. I shouldn’t, not after what he did, but I think he might be the only person who could bring Bailey back into herself, all things considered.
The boy who loves my sister is still inside the man that sits in front of me.
I saw it in his smile when he beamed with pride at hearing she was going back to school.
“You rooting for me, Whittaker?” Chase asks with a put-on grin.
“Nah,” I say, heading to the door. “Rooting for her.”
Chase sobers. “Get her home safe,” he tells me, and his audacity sends fire through my veins for a second, but I nod anyway and head out the door.
Bailey’s clearly angry with me, Colt’s grinning a little too wide for someone who almost spent the night in jail, and I’ve got about two and a half hours to sleep before I gotta be up for chores in the morning. Might as well just stay up instead.