53. Chapter 53 - Rosalyn
How can everyone be so happy when the danger is so real?
I want to be blissfully ignorant like them. To laugh and joke as they stand in line for corndogs and mountains of fries. I’m jealous that they can enjoy the rodeo for what it is, watching the bucking bulls without flinching every time the buzzer goes off.
Cade has me perched near the edge of the bleachers. He said that it’s the best place that he can find me in a glance.
I don’t think he wants me hanging off his arm like I wanted to be.
This was the compromise since I refused to stay in the truck.
There’s a guilty part of me that wanted to see Sophia. So I could catch a glimpse of the family I never met and may not know.
When the last bull has thrown its rider, there’s a flurry of activity as a podium and microphone are brought in.
Then a giant of a man who looks vaguely familiar takes the stage and introduces himself.
That’s Dixon?
No wonder I thought I knew him. There’s a lot of similarities in how he and Cade carry themselves, despite my husband’s limp.
My heart aches for Cade not being able to participate. To have to watch from the shadows as his vivacious niece circles the arena, her smile bright enough to shine over the crowd.
She’s beautiful. Her fiance is cute too when he does his little rope trick.
I feel like I’m intruding, sneaking access to someone I’m not supposed to be around. But I want to.
Seeing the pride Dixon exudes and then the wall of people who welcome the new couple as they leave…
I can’t stop crying.
“Pretty crazy, huh?” A woman slides along the bench closer, a black ball cap pulled down near her eyes.
“It was beautiful,” I sniffle, tugging my sleeve over my finger to wipe my cheek.
“Yea, well, they deserve each other.” Her tone is bitter as she scowls down at the dirt arena.
Why is she cranky about a wedding? “Do you know them?”
She snorts. “Better than you think.” Then she turns, staring boldly at me until I start to feel uncomfortable. “You look a lot like your brothers, you know,” she says flatly.
But her observation sends a chilling shiver through me. “You know them?”
I try to find Cade in the crowd. There’s just so many people. Even though he’s wearing his black Stetson, there has to be hundreds of others with similar hats.
“You and I, we’re gonna be sisters.” For the first time, she smiles.
Then she grabs my elbow, leaning in, and points to the far side. “See?”
Following the direction of her finger, I nearly scream when I see John smile and wave directly at us.
“Who are you?” I whisper, fighting the lockdown threatening every muscle in my body.
“Soon to be Mrs. John Bailey. Nice to finally meet you Rosalyn. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her hand doesn’t leave my arm as she flashes her engagement ring.
It’s a ruby, just like the one I wore for Ava. I think I’m going to be sick.
“He said you’d be here. That Cade wouldn’t be able to resist coming.”
“What do you know about—” My husband. “—Cade?”
Her mouth drops into a circle. “Oh, just that he killed your sister and has been doing absolutely horrendous things to the Black Gulch. You aren’t safe around him. Believe me, I know some of the crazy shit he’s done.” Her eyes widen as she nods like she’s trying to get me to join her.
She doesn’t know him at all.
“But don’t worry, John and Eli have a plan. You’re going to come with me so I can get you out of danger.” Her grip is stronger than I expect as she tugs me to my feet.
Where is Cade?
Panic has me frozen in place.
“No, Sal, you need to move.” She tugs me off balance, making me move with her. “Can I call you Sal? That’s what Eli said is your nickname.”
I have a pistol. Cade made sure I brought it.
But I never thought I’d actually have to use it. Would I actually pull the trigger?
“John said that you might be confused. Cade is pretty good at spinning tales, isn’t he?” This awful woman keeps up the chatter. Her words start to blend in with the crowd she drags me into.
Why can’t I fight back? When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I know it’s Cade.
It’s enough to give me a flare of strength.
Finally, my feet listen and I stop. “No,” I squeak. “I’m not going.”
That’s when I feel it. The hard poke of the barrel into my side.
“You don’t have a choice. This is for your own good.”