Epilogue
TWO MONTHS LATER
Cole
“What’s this about?” Cruz hops out of his Bronco, hitching up his pants and adjusting his utility belt as he takes a look around, scanning the area.
I jump down off the tailgate of my truck, tossing my empty beer can onto the ground.
“Boss wants your advice on something’,” I say casually over my shoulder as I lead the way into the overflow barn.
“Better be good,” Cruz mutters. “I’m missin’ the damn Astros game.”
The barn is dark inside, the dusk light filtering in from outside barely illuminates the space enough to see a few feet in front of you.
When I hear a scuffle, followed by a grunt and a low, pained groan, I turn, my eyes adjusting to see Cruz keeled over in pain, his arms held behind his back by Jagger while Austin disarms him, making quick work of disassembling his pistol and tossing the pieces onto the ground.
“What the fuck?” Cruz shouts, looking from me to Austin, to Webber standing by the lone chair in the center of the barn, the very same chair Butch’s traitor was killed in a few months back.
Jagger wrestles Cruz’s lofty frame across to the chair, kicking his feet out from under him and forcing him to sit down, and within a matter of seconds he’s bound by his own cuffs, chest heaving with hard breaths, eyes blazing as they stare up at me full of nothing but fear because of course he knows. It was only a matter of damn time.
If I’m honest, I think I knew. Or, at least had my doubts.
But I never had anything concrete. Now, with the added benefit of twenty-twenty hindsight, it all makes sense and goes back to the night at the motel, when Cruz told me it was nothing but some drunk trying to get into Clara’s room, where the kids were.
It wasn’t no drunk. It was Cain. I saw it myself with the shitty CCTV footage we were able to bribe off the night manager of the Sleepy Nites.
When Cruz was conveniently driving by, not long after Clara’s tire blew. I get chills every time I think just how badly that could’ve ended had the road not been unexpectedly busy with the traffic coming and going from the Rattlesnake turnout.
There were a few other uncanny coincidences, but I didn’t know if maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me—CTE-induced delusions finally catching up on my ass—but then the day at the slaughterhouse all but made up my mind.
When the asshole I was led to believe was Cain was saying somethin’.
A whispered word or two before Cruz put a bullet through his head.
Was he about to tell me the truth, that he wasn’t Cain, that Cain was still out there, and that this fuckin’ dirty-ass cop was the one helping him?
Austin warned me to be wary of Cruz, told me to be careful because if he was acceptin’ hush money from the ranch, then who’s to say who else he was acceptin’ bribes from.
And I fuckin’ hate that I didn’t take his warning seriously because there’s a big part of me that feels responsible for letting it get as bad as it did.
Hell, Tommy could’ve died. Clara could’ve died.
And Billie? Well, I’m sure that asshole was gonna kidnap her.
I’d have never fuckin’ forgiven myself. So, I spent the last couple months diggin’.
And thanks to Butch and his guys, I know exactly what this asshole did.
But there’s just one thing I don’t know. One thing I need to know.
Folding my arms across my chest, I move closer, looking down my nose at him long and hard. “Why?”
Cruz starts crying, blubbering as he looks around, eyes frantic, searching for some sort of lifeline I suppose, I don’t know. So, I stay strong, unwavering while I wait for him to tell me why he did what he did. But the longer I stand here, the more patience I’m losing.
“I don’t know what—” Cruz splutters. “I’m not—”
“You came across that asshole outside the motel that night,” I begin for him, since he can’t seem to find the words. “And you thought… what? You could make a quick fuckin’ buck?”
“No. It’s not…” Cruz cries, sobs like a fuckin’ baby. “I just thought… I-I didn’t know—”
The sound of a safety unlatching clicks loudly through the silence and Austin steps forward out of the shadows, pressing the barrel of his pistol to the back of Cruz’s head causing him to cry out.
“Finish your goddamn sentence motherfucker, or I will blow your fuckin’ brains out and mail ’em to your mama in Odessa.”
“I fucked up!” Cruz looks up at me, his eyes pleading. “I made a mistake. I didn’t realize… I-I didn’t know—”
I reach out and grab his chin rough and hard, jerking his fat face to me and leaning in so close I can almost taste his fear on my tongue. “You didn’t know what? That a strung-out member of a fuckin’ outlaw motorcycle club would try to kill an innocent woman and her children?”
Austin presses his gun firmer into the back of Cruz’s head and the asshole starts sobbing again, his body shaking like a scared little bitch boy.
“You’re in a lot of trouble, Deputy Mendes,” I continue, glancing at Austin before meeting Cruz’s eyes again. “You’re scared now, but this is fuckin’ nothin’ compared to what Butch and his guys have in store for you.”
A darkness washes over Cruz’s face then, all faux innocence and remorse suddenly gone, replaced by a seething anger that etches into every one of his features, sweat dripping down his bloated cheeks.
With a smug grin, I nod, answering the question I’m sure is swarming around in his head.
“Organizin’ to have their shipment taken to the patch at Odessa where your brother works.
” I sniff a laugh. “Fuckin’ over Butch and the goddamn cartel?
” I click my tongue, wincing at the thought.
“Boy, they’re gonna cut your fuckin’ head off. ”
Cruz struggles then, growling like a wild dog as he tries yet fails to tug his hands free.
I step back, watching him, smirking the whole time.
“Fuckin’ shoot me,” he grits out, trying to look back at Austin. “Shoot me, motherfucker.”
“Nah, I ain’t a cop killer,” Austin gruffs, tucking his gun into the waist of his jeans.
Cruz looks back at me, his face suddenly fraught and sheet white at the sound of tires crunching over the gravel outside, doors opening.
“Come on,” he begs, his bottom lip quivering. “Please, just fuckin’ kill me.”
I fold my arms across my chest, shaking my head. “Sorry, no can do, my guy. I don’t shoot cops. Besides, I gotta get back to my girl—” I hike a thumb over my shoulder, shrugging. “It’s my birthday.”
When a few big shadowy figures wearing black facemasks walk into the barn, cloaked in darkness with nothing but the setting sun backlighting them, I offer Cruz one last icy smile before turning and walking out.
Austin, Webber, and Jagger follow behind me as the masked men take over, nodding to us on their way past.
Clara
The setting sun paints the sky a kaleidoscope of colors; pink and peach, purple and mauve, candy floss clouds scattered up high above, as far as the eye can see.
“Morris!” Billie squeals as the puppy bounds across the yard, collecting her with force. She falls to the ground and the dog attacks her cheeks with slobbery licks that make her roll around in a fit of laughter, her high-pitched giggles floating through the air.
As I finish setting the table, I can’t help but smile at the sight, the warm summer breeze whipping through my hair.
We’re still at the farrier’s cabin on the ranch after the unexpected fire that tore through Cole’s house the night everything happened.
I’m not an idiot. I don’t know the details, because frankly, I don’t want to know them.
But I know the fire wasn’t an accident due to faulty wires like the investigation concluded.
Cain’s body was never retrieved. Not surprising since the fire left nothing but a pile of ashes.
As far as anyone knows, he was never even in Texas.
We’ll be here for a while. Indefinitely, at least. Cole hasn’t decided if he wants to rebuild or get rid of his land, now that he’s been named foreman of Rattlesnake Ranch, Austin’s right-hand man, since Webber is getting a little long in the tooth—Webber’s own words.
Cole’s considering selling up and putting his money into this place instead, cementing his legacy once and for all at Rattlesnake, and securing a future now since he’s no longer riding.
I know he misses bull riding. I’m sure the thrill of getting on the back of a raging bull is unmatched, but I also know he knows he made the right decision.
I see it every time he looks at Billie, smiling a faraway smile at her like he’s imagining walking her down the aisle one day, in the distant, distant future.
I see it in the way he and Tommy laugh together at their inside jokes, like they are and always will be the very best of friends.
I see it in the way I catch him looking at me, like he’s trying to memorize every last detail and lock it away for safe keeping.
I don’t know what the future holds. Or where we will end up, but I know whatever we do, we’ll do it together. The four of us.
The screen door creaks and Mama Joy walks out carrying a big tray laden with thick cut steaks. I smile at her and she winks at me, walking over to where the grill has been heating, giving off the hint of that charcoal scent that brings visions of long hot days and summer nights.
As if on cue, a convoy of vehicles putter up the long dirt road, turning off the main drive and heading toward us.
I turn, smoothing down the front of my dress, my heart skipping a beat like it always does at the sight of Cole hopping out of his truck, face shaded by his cowboy hat, a definite swagger in his stride, those Wranglers doing things that should be illegal as he does something as simple as walk up the path toward the house.
“Hey baby,” he gruffs lowly, big hands settling at my waist and pulling me flush against him. “Sorry I’m late,” he breathes against my lips before claiming me with a kiss that’d almost be indecent if I knew the kids weren’t too preoccupied with the puppy Cole surprised them with last week.
Jagger, Webber and Austin walk up, followed by the rest of the guests arriving, and I wrap my arms around Cole’s neck, pulling back from his mouth to look deep into those blue eyes that own my heart and soul.
“Happy birthday, baby.”
After dinner, we’re all seated around the picnic table beneath the glow of the twinkling fairy lights, talking and laughing, celebrating Cole for his birthday.
And as I look around at everyone, Cole and Tommy standing with Jagger, Webber and Austin lurking over by the far side of the yard, Wyatt and Darcy, Bailey with her little BFF Billie perched on her lap, Maci and Kendra, Mama Joy right next to me, I smile at these people who were, not so long ago, strangers I’d never met, who are now the family I never thought I’d have.
I’m so glad I ended up here in Summer. Bad luck brought me here, but as I meet Cole’s beautiful ocean gaze across the way, the twinkling lights reflecting in those piercing eyes and sparkling with that permanent hint of mischief mixed with danger, something passes between us, and I know it’s a rare kind of luck to have found my forever in that man.
“Uh, y’all?”
We all turn to find Brady walking out of the house, the obvious confusion in his tone spiking mine and everyone else’s interest.
Walking down the porch steps, Brady looks down at something in his hand, his brow furrowed, feet failing with a misstep that causes him to lose his balance, collecting himself at the last second.
“What’s up, brother?” Cole asks, jutting his chin at him.
“Um—” Brady snaps his chin up, clearing his throat and when his eyes meet mine there’s something in them that makes my stomach knot painfully.
Lifting his hand, he holds something up in the air, a knowing smirk causing the corners of his mouth to curl up before his face splits into a full-watt grin.
“I found this… um… on the bathroom floor.”
Silence ensues and it’s thick and heavy, and palpable as it dances around the air.
Someone gasps.
Someone whispers.
Someone mutters a curse.
“Is that a… a pregnancy test?” Wyatt guffaws.
Mama Joy shrieks almost deafening me in the process, her excitement uncontainable.
Brady nods, grin lingering. “And, I ain’t no college educated doctor but I’m pretty sure two blue lines equals a baby!”
Mama Joy swings around to look at me, wide eyes brimming with tears as she throws her arms around me. “Oh, Clara!”
All focus is on me then, and, at a loss for words, I feel my cheeks heat. Snapping my head to Cole, I find him gawking at me, his face void of emotion, mouth hanging open in obvious shock, and it’s only then that I snap back to reality because I really need to say something.
“I-I… I’m—” I look around at everyone, frantically spluttering as I search for the words that I can’t seem to find quick enough to put a stop to whatever the hell is happening right now.
I point a finger at Brady and the positive pregnancy test he’s holding up like Simba from The Lion King. “That… that is so not mine!”
The End