27
I can’t concentrate on working with Charlie’s offer hanging over me.
Pack a bag. Come over tonight.
Charlie and I—we’re not keeping our distance. Every boundary, every agreement we’ve made since I arrived at Runaway Ranch is dust in the Montana sky. I only have a month left and the thought of leaving hurts.
This ranch is good for me. For my heart.
I push my laptop away, deciding to give up on editing the photos and finish them later. From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of my bucket list on the fridge. A bright smile spreads across my face. I’ve crossed off more to-dos here than anywhere else. All thanks to Charlie.
He makes me feel like I can do anything.
He makes me see how my entire life could be different.
My smile fades when my gaze lands on the cowboy hat in the middle of the kitchen table. It’s beautiful and fits me perfectly. I love it, but it’s a gift. It’s too intimate.
Permanent.
The cowboy hat changes things. For the better, I don’t know.
Even though I’m already in love with him, Charlie absolutely cannot fall in love with me.
He isn’t.
I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the shaky beat of my trembling heart.
He won’t.
All I am to him is a fling. Good sex. Great sex. He’s not emotionally invested. He’s made it clear we are summer bound.
Saying no to him and staying at home tonight would be the smart thing to do.
But I can’t stay away from him. I’m obsessed with Charlie Montgomery, this rough around-the-edges cowboy. The days are ticking down and I’ll have to leave soon, but until then, for just one summer, I very much want to be his girl.
Because I won’t beg anyone to love me and I won’t shame myself for wanting good love.
This is how it has to be.
For so long, I’ve held my heart hostage. No more.
I check my phone, and a squeak pops out of my mouth when I see the time.
I’m late.
Hurrying into the bedroom, I open my smaller suitcase and drop in a few nice pieces of clothing I haven’t worn yet.
In the bathroom, I pack a small bag with my medication and toiletries.
I take a second to touch up my makeup and apply light pink lip gloss, dabbing it onto my cheeks for added effect.
My phone pings.
I scowl when I see the ranch’s Instagram account has a comment from Lassomamav76.
Sick of these boring, blah pictures.
I shake my head vigorously, irritation weaving through me.
Who are you?
I don’t wait. I head straight for my computer.
On impulse, I drag Lassomamav76’s downloaded avatar into my photo editing software. I work quickly, changing the pixel dimensions to enlarge the image. There has to be something I can find out about this woman.
There.
I see it.
I lean in to my computer, stomach churning.
Her belt buckle.
It’s shiny, studded with turquoise, two crossed shotguns in the middle of the scalloped rectangle. Etched below them are the words Be Victorious. Be Valiant. Be Vicious .
That’s when something clicks on in my head.
I’ve seen that phrase before. But where?
I have to tell Charlie.
Moving faster, I hop up from the kitchen table and rush into the bathroom. I zip up my toiletries bag. Through the small bathroom window, I catch a glimpse of Charlie’s cabin. Thunder rumbles across the sky. Sun and shadow cross paths, casting strange umbras over the ranch.
That’s when I hear my front door open.
I freeze.
That’s when I hear it lock.
Unease prickles at the back of my spine as I leave the bathroom.
“Charlie?” I breathe, stepping into my bedroom doorway to peer into the living room.
I gasp.
A man stands in the entryway, wearing a black mask. He’s tall but hunched over like he’s trying not to be noticed.
Don’t hurt me, I want to say, but I can’t form the words.
We lock eyes for a long second, then he shuffles forward, almost hesitating.
And then—we both move at once.
I jerk backward, trying to slam the bedroom door to lock it and buy me time, but he’s in the room before I can get it closed.
He advances, rushing the space between us.
In a panic, I scramble onto the bed and try to unlatch the window.
If I can crawl through, I can make it to Charlie’s.
I’m sliding the window open when he grabs me by the ankle and pulls me off the bed.
I kick back and struggle, rolling around on the ground in a desperate attempt to free myself.
Finally, my foot connects with his knee and he swears, lets me loose.
I’m up.
I try to run past him, hoping to make it to the front door, but he catches me by the left wrist.
“Fuck you,” I say and take a swing at him.
Add this to my bucket list. Fistfights.
I punch him in the eye, my knuckles connecting hard, and he swears.
I let out a blood-curdling scream.
“ Charlie !” I inhale again. “Charlie, help—”
A hand slaps across my mouth. My scream smothered. I struggle to break free, trying to pull away as his arm hooks around my stomach. The man pins me back against him. My bare feet drag the ground. I fight against him but he’s strong.
“Leave before someone gets hurt,” he says in my ear. “Before it’s too late.” His voice isn’t mean or angry like I expected. Instead, it’s gentle, hesitant.
Adrenaline spikes, causing my heart to race. Its beat is shaky, and my head spins, dizziness spreading through me. I’ve never heard a heartbeat get this loud. It pounds in my head. I can feel the soft spot on my throat pulsing.
“No,” I whimper, my mouth muffled by the man’s palm. “Please,” I beg. “Please, stop ...”
It’s too much, too much for my heart.
The room sways left and right as my vision warps into a sparkly tunnel slowly being eaten up by blackness.
I can’t speak, I can’t scream. There’s a ringing in my ears that I know all too well.
My head lolls as I fight to stay conscious.
A soft uhnnn parts my lips. I go limp against the man holding me, unable to fight the unconsciousness creeping over me like a black lake.
“Fuck.” The voice is shaky. Afraid. “Miss Ruby?”
Miss Ruby.
“Charlie,” I gasp.
My breath stalls. My heart stops.
Then I faint away into darkness.
“Ruby!”
Blackness ebbs. My eyelids fight to open. That’s when I realize I’m on the floor of my cottage.
Cradled in the arms of a cowboy.
Charlie’s ragged voice breaks through my semi-consciousness. “Ruby. Ruby, baby, talk to me. Open your eyes, Sunflower,” he begs. “Let me see those pretty baby blues.”
The world swims. My head lolls against a hard chest, and a moan splits my lips. I hear a sharp intake of breath.
My entire body comes alive hearing Charlie’s voice, like a flower in desperate need of the sun. When I open my eyes, I see Charlie’s worried face staring down at me.
“Thank fucking God,” he rasps.
A curse, a prayer, a combination of the two.
“My heart,” I croak.
My trembling hand moves to my throat, and Charlie’s hand follows. His cool palm cups the curve of my throat, where my pulse pumps at a frenetic rhythm.
I try to focus on him, but I can’t. Drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness, my eyes roll back, my wrist sags to the ground.
“Eyes on me.” Charlie’s demand is urgent, desperate. “Keep ‘em open, you hear me?” His frantic hands race over my body as he positions me on his lap.
Despite being hot and sweaty, I shake like it’s winter. My chest heaves. “Yes,” I whisper, locking my eyes to his handsome face. “Yes.”
“Who did this?” Body bent over mine, Charlie tucks me tighter in his arms. His clenched jaw looks like it’s on the verge of snapping in half. “Who hurt you?”
“I—I don’t know,” I whisper, my head lolling across his forearm. “I don’t ...” I stumble over the words, the memory of what happened. A typical response to one of my flutters. My brain’s washed out. I feel so weak and all I want to do is sleep.
I close my eyes, letting my body and the memories return to me.
“Ruby?” Charlie’s panicked voice calls me back.
I shake my head as an icy wave of nausea washes over me. “There was a man in my cottage.” A whimper escapes me at the rapid images hammering my mind. Rough hands on my mouth, that soft snarl in my ear. “He attacked me.”
“Christ,” Charlie grits out, a strangled sound erupting in his throat. The rage in his eyes makes me go weak. “I’m going to kill whoever did this to you.”
My pulse quickens. “He told me to leave before it was too late. Before someone gets hurt.”
A growl rips out of him as he pulls me deeper into his arms.
“Must’ve gone out the bedroom window,” a muffled voice says.
More muffled voices float. Boots stomp.
When I realize there are other people in the cottage, I struggle to sit up in Charlie’s arms. My eyes widen at the sight of the smashed door.
With shaking fingers, I palm his bearded cheek. Breathless, I ask, “Did you do that?”
He laughs, but his face is tight. “Baby, I was gettin’ to you, one way or another.”
“Jesus,” a drawl says. “Someone ransacked the shit out of the place.”
Davis and Ford storm around in the living room. Two towering ranchers never looked so murderous.
Ford glances down at me, compassion in his brown eyes. “Fairy Tale okay?”
“Fairy Tale?” I wonder.
“No,” Charlie growls. “She isn’t.”
“Oh no,” I whimper, finally making sense of Ford’s words as I take in my surroundings. Hot tears flood my eyes. My poor cottage is trashed. I glance at my shattered laptop. The broken flower pots and dark soil stamped across the rug. My to-do list crumpled in a corner. And—
“My hat,” I whisper, crestfallen. My beautiful cowboy hat from Charlie lies trampled on the floor, the crown smashed like a flower.
Scalding tears spill out of my eyes, streaming into the corner of my mouth. “My cottage.”
A big thumb tracks its way across my cheek. “Shhh. It’s okay. Don’t cry, baby.”
With tender care, Charlie lifts me up. His expression is hard now as he looks at his brothers. His eyes breathe fire. “The same person who attacked Wyatt attacked Ruby.”
“What?” I lift my head, worried. “Wyatt’s hurt?”
Davis shoots a glance in Ford’s direction, then smiles kindly at me. “He’ll be okay. He’s at Charlie’s gettin’ checked over by our staff doctor.”
Charlie’s anger flickers, but seeing my gaze on him, he stamps it down. “And that’s where you’re going,” he says gruffly.
“No.” I shake my head, wanting to avoid any run-ins with a doctor. Reminders of my health unwelcome at the moment. Not when I’ve got my cowboy.
I loop my arms around his neck, ignoring the urge to break down. “I’m okay, Charlie.”
“I’m not okay, Ruby.” Pain crosses his face, and he tips his forehead to mine. A ragged exhale tears from his chest. “Finding you like this, holding you limp in my arms ...I’m not okay. I’m not.”
He sweeps soft kisses on my lips, my temple, my cheek. Holding my head on his chest, he runs a hand through my hair. “I’m so sorry,” he tells me. The broken rawness in his voice makes me ache. “I’m so, so sorry.”
My pulse races, the enormity of tonight sinking in.
My heart.
My health.
My life.
My safe space violated.
A cry wrenches itself from lungs. I twist my body in Charlie’s arms, burying my face against his shoulder and weep.
He says something in a low rumble to his brothers, and I let him hold me, relishing the strength of his body.
“You’re safe. I have you, Ruby.” Charlie’s voice is a ragged promise that breathes murder and tenderness all at once. He carries me out of the cottage and heads to his cabin as raindrops fall from the sky. “I have you, and I’m not letting go.”