Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
My bucket list is missing.
I’ve torn the house apart twice over and have nothing to show for it. I thought maybe I’d find remnants of the disintegrated paper in the shorts that got wet in the shower, but that proved to be wishful thinking.
Throwing the couch cushion back into place, I tug at my hair. The last thing I need is for Noah to find the list and start asking questions about Isabel’s lovely addition of Get Laid —or worse, have him rat me out to Dad about wanting to leave Deadwood before I get the chance to tell him myself.
Groaning, I bury my face in my hands. I’m so screwed .
Gravel crunches outside, followed by two doors slamming in quick succession. My whole body goes on high alert with the sudden realization that Ryker is about to walk in here any second. Apart from his unexpected appearance in my bedroom in the middle of the night, he and Noah never came home from Marco’s.
My heart thuds wildly inside my chest. How am I supposed to act normal around the man who had me convulsing around his fingers yesterday when my brother is in the same room with us? How am I supposed to feel after he disappeared into the night when he should have stayed and done it again…
My eyes fly to the door as it creaks open, an odd mixture of disappointment and bitterness crawling into my throat when Noah walks through it alone.
“Hey, Wills,” he says sheepishly, eyes darting between me and the floor. I can smell the hangover on him from here, as well as whatever citrusy cologne he borrowed in a half-assed attempt to cover up the sweat, whiskey, and beer leaching off him.
I cross my arms, brows pinching as I take in his appearance.
The collar of his shirt is torn and his lips are pink and swollen, like he got into a fight— go figure —but there’s something different about him today. He has the same bags under his eyes that he always has after coming off the rig or spending a night out drinking. But he’s also tanner with little patches of white skin near his temples and forehead, the type you only get after a bad sunburn…
My head cocks to the side. That sort of coloring doesn’t happen overnight. Was I so eager to get my secrets off my chest yesterday that I overlooked it?
Movement in the window catches my eye at the same time Noah clears his throat.
“Listen, I wanted to apologize for being a dick yesterday. You were trying to talk to me, and I was…” His voice trails off as he follows the direction of my gaze to the garden where Ryker is messing with the hose.
I school my features and try to feign indifference to the glorious way the morning light highlights the muscles in Ryker’s neck and arms, but that’s a very difficult thing to do with butterflies fluttering inside your belly and heat creeping into your cheeks.
A small grin curls the corner of my lips before I quickly tuck it away.
When I return my attention to Noah, the severe set of his mouth almost makes me flinch. A moment passes while we stare at one another, then my brother slowly bobs his head, the too -controlled movement coating my stomach with icy dread.
“What were you going to tell me yesterday?” he asks calmly, tone flat and inflectionless.
“Do you mean after I mentioned someone broke into the house and you ignored me for your phone?” I scoff.
Neither one of us breaks eye contact, although Noah’s mustache flares occasionally, like he’s sucking his teeth or flexing his jaw.
“Do you really expect me to believe that someone broke into our house and you didn’t immediately tell Dad?” he asks through a sarcastic laugh. “Seems to me like you were mad I left a week early for the rig and didn’t want me to go out with my best friend, so you made up a story to keep me home.”
My head snaps back. “What? I would never?—”
“If you didn’t make it up, then let’s tell Dad right now. He’d want to know if there was a stranger in the house.” Noah takes a deep breath. “Hey, Da?—”
I clamp my hand over his mouth, his mustache scraping against my palm as he lifts a single smug brow that screams I knew it .
“I’m not lying,” I whisper-yell, retracting my hand.
“Fine. Let’s say you weren’t lying about that,” he says with so much sickly sweet snark it makes my teeth hurt. “There was something else you wanted to tell me yesterday, right?” He glances out the window toward Ryker. “What was it?”
He waits, blinking slowly while his gaze bores into mine.
My pulse kicks up a notch. There’s no way he knows…
“I thought you were going to apologize,” I croak, and when he says nothing, I take a single step in the direction of the hallway, giving him one last chance to show concern over anything other than his suspicions about my interest in Ryker.
He, of course, does no such thing.
A lump forms in my throat and I take another step backward. “If you’re not going to say sorry for being a jerk and you still don’t believe me about the break-in, then I have nothing more to say to you. ”
Noah’s eyes stay locked on mine as I retreat, their once familiar soft blue now cold and distant. When I’m safely behind my closed bedroom door, I take a deep, shuddering breath and lean my forehead against the frame—one thought repeating over and over again in my mind.
I can’t wait to get the hell out of Deadwood.
I spend the next hour and a half curled up in bed with one of Isabel’s books—this one with the perfect amount of darkness and angst about a girl who’s been snowed in with her hot step-uncle and two broody step-cousins. But then my grumbling stomach finally forces me to get dressed and leave my hovel.
Reluctantly, I slide into a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top.
All you have to do is pretend like your life isn’t a chaotic mess of half-truths and awkward tension long enough to grab some toast and then you can go back to your room .
After shrugging on a long-sleeve sweater that it’s way too hot for, I waltz into the living room, my steps faltering when I find Noah and Dad already staring at me expectantly from the breakfast ladened dining room table.
Oh God… They found my bucket list.
Or worse, they know Ryker fingered me on the couch…
For one horrible second, I can’t breathe as slicing blades of panic threaten to eviscerate me from within. I scan the room, searching for some sort of clue as to what’s about to happen but find nothing. Forcing myself to think this through, I quickly realize there’s no way my family would be sitting at the table so calmly if Dad found out about Austin, and no possible way Ryker would be humming in the kitchen if Noah knew anything had happened between us.
Still, the air in the room is so thick and heavy it squeezes my lungs with every inhale .
“Have a seat,” Dad says solemnly, his words amplifying the cramped feeling in my chest until it sinks into my stomach.
“Is this some sort of weird intervention for Noah’s shitty attitude?” I ask, trying to force a note of brevity into my voice that I definitely don’t feel.
Noah scoffs. “I wish, but no. I also have no idea why the hell we’re sitting here. Especially since Ryker and I were trying to go fishing before he leaves for his appointment…” Noah’s eyes dart to the kitchen where Ryker is loading up a bowl of what looks and smells like fluffy Nutella-swirled muffins.
Feeling slightly more confident that I’m not the one in trouble and trying my best to act like my insides aren’t a nervous mess, I take the seat across from my brother and steal a slice of bacon from his plate. Before he can snatch it back, I lick it and shove the entire thing into my mouth, smiling at the repulsed look he gives me.
That’s what you get for accusing me of lying, asshole.
I chew quickly and wait for Noah’s verbal lashing, but it never comes. He just stares at his plate, muttering under his breath.
The bacon loses all flavor, and I frown.
“What was that, son?” Dad chimes, oblivious to the tension brewing right under his nose.
Noah snorts humorlessly, refusing to look in my direction. “I was just pointing out how ironic it is that there’s a whole plate of bacon on the table and Willa still chose to take mine.”
Dad frowns. “Let me get this straight. Your little sister, the person who cooks, cleans, and looks after you, had a bite of your breakfast. The breakfast that was made and served to you by your best friend while you sat here and didn’t lift a finger. And you’re being pissy about it?” He leans back in his chair, eyes narrowed. “I think you’ll live, son.”
Noah crosses his arms and angles his body away from our father.
The vindictive part of me wants to grin from ear to ear that he’s being called out on his bullshit, but the bitter taste in my mouth stops me .
With Dad and Noah diving into a new round of bickering, I try to catch Ryker’s eye when he rounds the table, but he immediately looks away. I frown, taking in his lowered brow and the hard set of his jaw while he places a pot of coffee and the bowl of muffins on the table.
Is he mad at me too?
I keep trying to grab his attention as he refills Dad’s mug and pours out three more cups, but he never looks over—not even when he takes the seat between Dad and me.
A bubbling nausea rolls around inside my stomach.
“Where’d you go last night?” I whisper, eyeing my brother to make sure he’s not listening.
“It doesn’t matter,” Ryker replies out of the side of his mouth. He keeps his eyes straight ahead but pushes the plate of muffins in my direction before quickly tucking his hand under the table. Chocolate hazelnutty goodness floods my senses.
“It does matter,” I insist. “Where did you?—”
“Not here, Willa,” he bites out through clenched teeth, the sharpness in his tone a clear indication I’m not going to get an answer out of him. Not right now, anyway.
“You’ll tell me later, then?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer.
My limbs tingle with the sudden urge to flee from the table, but the crushing weight of my spiraling thoughts prevents me from moving. Does he regret what happened between us? Yesterday was amazing, but we were interrupted before I had the chance to reciprocate. Maybe Ryker went out and had someone else take care of his needs—someone more experienced, who already knows what he likes…
Like Jenny.
I shake my head. No, he wouldn’t have come back to ask me who broke in if that was the case. But something has changed.
Throat tightening, I glance at Ryker. Now that my brother is home, maybe he decided fooling around with me wasn’t worth the risk… That I wasn’t worth the risk.
My shoulders curve inward in a futile attempt to keep the growing disappointment in my chest at bay while I continue to watch him load up his plate with food, never so much as breathing in my direction. Noah and Dad are still arguing, but I’m no longer hungry. If Ryker’s going to spend the rest of breakfast ignoring me, then I should just go back to my damn room and?—
Rough knuckles drag up the length of my thigh, leaving a heated wave of shivers in their wake as Ryker shoves his plate in front of me. “Eat something,” he says quietly, now running his knuckles in the opposite direction, toward my knee.
Dad taps his palm against the table, and I jump. “Willa? Are you listening?”
I turn my head so fast my neck cracks and my elbow knocks into my coffee mug, but thankfully I catch it before it spills. “Sorry, what?”
Dad sighs, the purple bags under his eyes darker than they were only a minute ago. “I said I’ve been holding on to this for a while”—he glances at Ryker—“but it was brought to my attention that it was a mistake to keep it from you.”
Noah sits up straighter, making nervous eye contact with his plate while sneaking glances in my direction. A coldness settles over my skin. Does he know something I don’t?
Before I have the chance to spiral down that rabbit hole, Dad is talking again. “Chief Thompson is retiring, and I’ve been selected to take over as chief of police.”
My shoulders sag in relief.
“I know y’all think I work too much already,” he continues, “but with Willa getting her degree and Noah gone half the month, this will be good for me. I can make a difference in this town.”
“Congrats, Dad. That’s amazing.” It’s also about damn time . I was starting to think he was never going to tell us.
“Thanks, kiddo,” he says through a forced smile, meeting my eye for barely a millisecond before looking away.
My brow furrows .
Ryker and Noah offer their congratulations next, and this time Dad’s grin seems genuine.
“I won’t officially take over until after the next town hall meeting, but one of the first things I plan on doing is getting some new blood in the department. Which means I have one more bit of news,” he says, staring across the table at Ryker. “I’d like you all to say hello to Deadwood’s newest police cadet.”
My brother opens his mouth like he’s about to argue, but stops, face twisting from annoyance to something closer to hurt when he realizes who Dad’s looking at.
Beneath the table, Ryker grips my thigh. It feels so much like a panic reflex, I’m not even sure he knows he’s doing it. “I thought there wasn’t going to be an academy opening for six months?” he asks, body eerily still except for his twitching fingers and the pulse in his neck hammering away.
Dad beams at him. “I pulled some strings and got you a spot in the upcoming class. You start next Monday.”
My stomach drops. So soon?
Ryker’s grip on my leg loosens, his expression transforming from tight and disbelieving into something radiant. My heart skips a beat, and after one final squeeze, Ryker lets go of my thigh and rises to his feet.
Dad smiles so wide I can hardly see his eyes. “Fair warning. Our department is small, so we partner with a few of the neighboring towns and train at the Sheriff’s Facility in Jonestown. We have the budget to put you up in a hotel Monday through Friday, but you’ll need to come stay at the house during the weekends. I figure you can use that time to study.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Ryker shakes his head, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, sir.”
Dad is all smiles. “I also took the liberty of getting your packing list for you—uniforms, gear, boots, everything you’ll need.” He gets a faraway look in his eye, the same way he always does when he’s remembering his early days on the force. “The training can be overwhelming, but once you’re sworn in, you’ll have great benefits and be an excellent candidate for guardianship or a kinship placement for Charlotte. Everything is going to work out the way it should.”
Ryker’s eyes brighten, like he’s just seen his first sunrise after a decades-long night. “I’m meeting with my attorney this afternoon to go over the plan and fill out some paperwork. What else can I do to be a better candidate in the eyes of the court?”
“We probably need to get you your own apartment. Line up some day care options for when you’re on shift, that way you can show you’ve thought all this through.” Dad rubs the stubble on his chin. “You’d look better on paper if you were married, but it’s not a requirement. Just the same, you might want to hold off on casual encounters and start going on a few dates,” he says with a wink.
My fists ball under the table, the thought of Ryker with another girl curdling my insides so violently I speak without thinking. “I can watch Charlie.”
Ryker’s smile falters, his brows scrunching together before he closes his eyes.
“That’s sweet of you, kiddo,” Dad says with a proud laugh that sounds foreign after not hearing it in months, “but Ryker needs reliable childcare if he’s awarded guardianship. With classes and commuting, you won’t be here during the day, remember?”
Realization coils tightly around my lungs… Dad might’ve had the specifics wrong, but he’s right. I won’t be able to help with Charlie because I’ll be in Austin…
Ryker glances at me over his shoulder, and even though I’m the one leaving, I can’t shake the feeling that Deadwood is once again about to take something from me.
He turns back to Dad, voice chock-full of emotion as he shakes his hand before abruptly pulling Dad up and into a hug. “Thank you again, sir.”
Dad freezes, looking momentarily surprised before his shoulders soften and his eyes turn water-lined. “No need to thank me, son. You know I’ve always thought of you as family. ”
I catch the briefest flash of red on Ryker’s knuckles when he leans away, but he shoves his hand into his pocket before I get the chance to see what it is.
Throughout the exchange, Noah remains silent, staring at the two of them with an expression I’ve never seen on his face before. It’s almost soft, maybe defeated, but after a moment or two, he grits his teeth. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk to us about, Dad ?”
It’s almost the exact same question he asked me earlier, and even though Dad’s eyes flash to mine, he’s already shaking his head. “Nope, nothing I can think of.”
Something in my stomach hardens as I look between them, their stern expressions locked in an unspoken exchange I can’t even begin to decipher except for two glaringly obvious facts:
Taking over as chief wasn’t Dad’s only secret, and whatever it is he’s keeping from me, Noah already knows.