Rope Me In (The Cowboys of Night Hawk)

1. Kade

Chapter 1

Kade

Grief. It’s a funny and horrible thing. Like your lungs, it expands and contracts. The more life you breathe into it, the larger it gets. But the longer you starve it, the more painful it becomes. Like when you walk into frigid winter air after a hard workout and the very sustenance you breathe becomes ice inside your chest. I rub my sternum like I can feel it right now.

“Kade?”

I’m broken from my thoughts by my cardiologist, Dr. Ellis. She looks at where I’m rubbing my chest and then into my eyes, her face etched with confusion.

“Sorry. You were saying?”

“Are you feeling okay?” she asks.

I look at my hand and force it down to my side. The pain I was feeling has nothing to do with my actual heart, but I’m not going to tell her that. “Yeah, sorry. Just an itch.”

For a moment, I think she’s going to press me further, but then she relaxes. “I was saying everything looks good.”

I exhale a sigh of relief and give her a grateful nod. “I’m cleared to start work again?”

Dr. Ellis smiles warmly. “Don’t go crazy. Keep stress at a minimum, but everything looks normal. I’m going to keep you on beta blockers, but it’s just a precaution. I want to keep that heart muscle strong, especially considering the type of manual labor you do. ”

“Alright, then,” I say, not happy about having to take medication. It makes me feel lethargic sometimes. And I read that it could be why I keep having strange dreams and nightmares. But it is what it is. I’m not going to complain about it if it keeps me alive. However, I am concerned about the cost, something I’ll have to figure out later.

“And what are you planning to do for stress relief?” she asks.

I stare at my doctor, the one I’ve come to trust over the last three months. A hard thing to do when I grew up listening to a dad who told me to walk it off when I got hurt. And that all doctors were a bunch of money-hungry quacks.

“You want me to do goat yoga or some fancy shit you city people like to do?” I say, a teasing tone to my voice.

She chuckles. “If you like goats and yoga, then yes. I would say it could be a great stress reliever. Especially the yoga part.”

I crack a half smile, unable to stop myself from being flirty. It’s always been my way of dealing with people: to handle any tense situations and keep things nice and breezy.

“There are other great ways to relieve stress, you know.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. Her back stiffens at what I inadvertently implied, and she stands from her rolling chair. Way to fucking go, Kade. You creeped out your doctor. Your very married doctor.

My eyes go to the giant diamond on her finger then to the floor. Sometimes I can’t help what comes out of my mouth. It’s second nature at this point. I’ve always been the town flirt and, eventually, the town playboy. I slept with a lot of women. It’s not something I’m ashamed of; it’s just a fact.

And while I haven’t fucked anyone since I’ve been on the mend—and I’ve gotten better at watching what I say since I stopped drinking—it’s been getting harder and harder recently to keep myself from reverting back to my old ways.

Dr. Ellis clears her throat, and I bring my eyes to meet hers. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. ”

She must hear the regret in my voice because her features soften, and she takes a step toward me. “You’ve been through a lot in the last few months, Kade. I’m not a psychologist, but I would consider seeing one if you haven’t. After a major cardiac event, depression isn’t uncommon. It also wasn’t just your heart that was injured. You broke your arm and received a concussion from your fall. That’s a lot for a body to take. If you’d like, I can have my physician’s assistant get you some referrals.”

I roll my shoulders back and grimace. The last thing I want to do is see a headshrinker. They’d probably lock me up in a padded cell for all the thoughts I’ve got swirling around in my head. Not to mention that my friends wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. I’m only twenty-two, for god’s sake. I refuse to believe I need to talk to someone. I’ve always dealt with my shit, even when I was a kid. And I’ll keep dealing with it like I always have.

“I’ll think about it,” I tell her, trying to make it sound convincing.

“Okay, great. Then we’re all done here. I’ll have you come back in a year for a checkup.”

“A year?”

“Yes. You can see your primary in between or use the online portal if you have questions. But your heart is healthy.”

“Okay, thanks,” I say, thinking about how I don’t have a primary doctor. Or at least I haven’t in a very long time.

She stands, cracking open the door to leave. “And Kade?”

“Yep?”

“You’re going to be fine. This was a little hiccup. Keep your stress down, and enjoy life. Don’t be so hard on yourself; you’re too young to be back in my office anytime soon.”

I attempt to smile at her. “I’ll do my best.”

Her eyes crinkle at the corners, the shine in her brown irises dimming as if my words have saddened her, like she truly cares for me. But after a few quick blinks, they’re warm and friendly again. “Take care of yourself, Kade. ”

Once the door closes, I change out of my gown and make my way to the end of the hallway. I go through the motions, handing a credit card to the woman at the front desk then booking my checkup for a year from now before I walk back to my red truck in the attached parking garage. Once I’m inside, I check my silenced cell phone and turn the ringer back on. I have several missed text notifications, but I don’t have to see the name to know who they’re from.

Gavin, my overbearing older brother, wanted to come to this appointment with me. I insisted I would be fine, that I needed the space to think and had a few errands to run. Finally, after some bickering—which isn’t abnormal for us—he let me come to the doctor myself. They were a little late seeing me, so I’m not surprised that he tried to reach me.

GAVIN: How did the appointment go? Momma and Gran are worried.

KADE: Is it Momma and Gran who are worried, or is it you?

GAVIN: Kade.

KADE: Gavin.

GAVIN: Just tell me—everything okay?

KADE: Yes, everything looks good.

GAVIN: Thank god .

I leave out the part where I have to take medication and that she told me to see a shrink. But I am physically okay—that part is true. Gavin would be even more of a helicopter brother if I told him the other stuff. He’d also be worried about the cost of the meds, just as I am. We have insurance, but it’s not that great. On top of that, we’ve already had to get on a payment plan to pay off my visit to the emergency room, surgery, specialists…the list goes on.

His girlfriend, Blake, may have taken care of the debt our dear old dad had accumulated against the Montgomery Family Ranch with her barrel racing winnings, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t still tight on cash. And the last thing I’m going to do is ask Blake for more money, even if she’s become like a sister to me after she saved my life the day I ruined her late brother’s five-year remembrance at the cemetery. Guilt pools in my stomach when I think about it, about the pain I caused not only to Blake and her family but also to my own.

I remove my ball cap and run my fingers through my feathered dusty blond hair then down my face covered in scruff. I replay those twenty-four hours from my accident in my mind multiple times daily.

I let my temper get the best of me that day, the very same temper Dad had. But when I found out that Gavin was lying for nine months about the debt Dad left our family in then discovered the business plan Blake made for us to turn our land into a dude ranch, I was furious. More than furious.

I think anyone would be if they found out their brother had been lying to them about something so serious for that long. And in my defense, I thought Blake’s business plan meant she wanted to purchase our land to turn it into a dude ranch for her family, not that she wanted to invest in us.

So I lost it, and I let my rage fuel my decisions from that point on. I hardly remember driving to the cemetery and sucker punching my brother to the ground in front of half the town. Or getting in a physical altercation at a city bar with the brother of a girl I’d slept with a few times. But I do clearly remember coming home to find my family sitting at the kitchen table with Blake. They looked so happy without me—laughing over barbecue and acting like life was so fucking sweet—that any remaining thread holding me together snapped.

I grabbed a full bottle of whiskey and got drunk before deciding to take one of our ATVs out for a ride to Devil’s Rock, a canyon on our property that Dad used to take me and Gavin to all the time. I don’t like to think about what happened next, what led me to stand on that edge, what brought on my cardiac arrest. But the next thing I knew, I was being brought back to life by Blake. Then I was in the hospital.

I rub my tired eyes. Every day, I wonder how I survived. Why I survived. Maybe it’s God’s way of punishing me. Killing me would have given me an easy way out.

My phone rings, this time with a call. When I see who it is, I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. It’s Jake, my friend and boss at our local bar, Night Hawk. Gavin and I have worked there since Dad died. First, it was for the extra money, but I actually really enjoy it. I’ve missed being able to get out and have fun with the folks who come through. It’s always a good time. Especially when we get city girls in for their bachelorette parties.

“Hey, man,” I say into the phone.

“I heard you’ve got the all clear. Congrats.”

“Well, shit. My brother’s turned into a town gossip. Soon, he’ll be worse than Old Abbey Allen.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.”

“Good. He’s turning into a meddler.”

Jake chuckles. “In all fairness, I happened to be standing next to him when he got your text. He was dropping in with some provisions he picked up for me. But I waited to call you until after he left.” He says the last part with an almost playful tone, which piques my interest.

“Tell me more. ”

“Would you feel up to teaching line dancing tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, customers have been asking when you’d be back. If not, I can do it or beg Gavin to do two-stepping again. Though that always turns into Blake and Gavin showing off and kissing on the dance floor.”

This time, I’m the one chuckling. It’s no secret that Jake has always had a crush on Blake Tanner, but she’s Gavin’s girl now. He’s supportive of it, even cheered for them to get together, but I imagine it still doesn’t feel great to see them as a pair. Especially considering they’re the type of couple that can’t keep their eyes or hands off each other.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to take the brunt of that.”

“Please. She’s on your ranch enough I’m sure you’ve seen more than your fair share of PDA.”

I grunt, thinking of the times I’ve walked in on them doing more than I care to see. “True.”

“If you don’t feel up to it, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”

An itch of excitement builds in my stomach at the prospect of getting my body back in action. Sure, I’ve been doing physical therapy and little things around the ranch, but I’ve been dying to go full speed. I don’t like sitting idle; it gives me too much time to think. And this will help me pay for my meds as well.

“Yeah, I’m in.”

“Yeah?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Thanks, man, I appreciate it. It’s been so crazy here. I’ve hired a new bartender who starts tomorrow, too, so with you on the floor, she can shadow Gavin on the bar most of the night. It’ll be great to have another Montgomery boy riling up the ladies.”

“Are you saying I’m good for business?”

“You know it. ”

I laugh. “Don’t tell Gavin this plan. He’ll be doing his mother-henning and probably try to lock me in my bedroom to keep me from coming if I tell him I’ll be dancing, even though I feel good.” At least physically.

“Wasn’t planning on tattling.”

I exhale a breath. “Thanks, Jake.”

“I’ve got your back, man. See you tomorrow.”

After I hang up, I see I’ve got another text from Gavin. Proving I’m right about his mothering, he’s texting me to ask where I’m heading and when I’ll be home.

I think over my options for a while. I could go back to the ranch and let my family see that I’m “okay.” I could sit and smile and have them all believe I’m on the path to being the boy I was before Dad died. The one who played cards with Gran instead of going to bars. The one who smiled and laughed, keeping things happy and upbeat on the outside.

Then we’d sit at the dinner table, and the three of them would talk about anything and nothing, making sure they avoid discussing the elephant in the room: me. Because while we’ve talked about the events leading up to my accident, and apologies were said, the conversation has remained surface-level, like it often does. They’re still too afraid to ask the hard questions. To ask me the details of my accident. To talk about why Gavin lied to us all for so long or the reasons Dad kept us in the dark before he died.

Though I’m no better. Because I know if they really ask, they won’t like what I have to say. That’s part of the reason we’ve all been tiptoeing around each other—nobody wants a repeat of three months ago. Nobody really wants to know how I’m doing, either. So they continue to ask if I’m okay. I continue to say I’m fine. And we move on.

Ping! I look down at my cell.

GAVIN: If I don’t hear from you soon, I’m calling you.

I start up my truck, the engine roaring to life. As the vibrations of the vehicle shake through my body, I let the images of that plausible family dinner tonight fade to the back of my mind. For the last three months, I’ve been good. I’ve done my PT exercises, gone to my doctors’ appointments, and haven’t touched a drop of alcohol or been to a bar to pick up a girl and get my frustrations out with a good hard fuck—preferably while she’s tied up and begging for my cock.

Every muscle and tendon in my body tightens, and my hands itch to feel my favorite rope sliding over my skin, to worship the warm body of a woman writhing beneath me. I’m not going to lie; it feels good to finally let myself imagine it. I long to give into the side of myself that craves and loves control, the side that helps me keep my negative thoughts at bay. The side that lets me shove them down deep and keeps me numb yet allows me to feel everything all at the same time.

I flex my hands, swearing I can feel the textured rope in my palms right now. Fuck, I don’t think I can hold back any longer. And maybe I shouldn’t. It would be nice to escape myself for a while. To temporarily be free of my endless self-loathing. To pretend as if I’m just a twenty-two-year-old with no fucks to give.

Like Dr. Ellis reminded me, I’m young. I need to enjoy life. And isn’t sex and drinking part of that? Why am I required to feel so fucking much? Why am I trying to please my brother and my family when they live their lives the way they see fit? Especially Gavin.

With that in mind, I pull out of the parking lot and head to a bar I know is twenty minutes from here. Some would call what I’m about to do avoidance or maybe say I’m an idiot to throw three months of sobriety and abstinence down the drain, but fuck it. I’m sick of only thinking about money, work, lies, and my dad’s death. I’m sick of feeling.

My cell rings, the sound grating on me. I somehow manage not to throw it out the window and put the call on speaker as I drive down the busy two-lane road.

“What is it?” I ask gruffly.

“You didn’t answer my text,” Gavin says, clearly panicked.

“I’m driving.”

“You on your way home?”

“No.”

Gavin pauses. A heavy silence passes between us. “Everything okay?”

“I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t wait up.”

“Kade—”

I don’t let him finish. Instead, I turn my phone off and continue to the bar, shutting away the part of me that wants to keep my brother happy. Shutting away every part of me that wants to keep anyone happy. Even myself.

It’s time to feel good. Or better yet, numb.