21. Chapter 21
Chapter 21
Maci
A faint vibration wakes me. My eyes are heavy and swollen, and my brain is muddled. I roll over in the bed, confused. It’s brighter than usual, but I can’t figure out the time. The vibrating continues.
A chill creeps over me when I toss the covers back and slide off the side of the large bed. It’s one of the most comforting places in my life, and I have no desire to leave it today. The thought of dealing with anything is too much.
My phone ceases movement and I find it tucked into my crossbody bag. The battery is low, and a local number shows for the missed call. My caller ID suggests it may be Bull Creek Police Department.
Fabulous.
First, I need coffee. And food. I’m starving.
Plus, I highly doubt whatever Detective Porter wants will change in the next thirty minutes. I shove the charger into the port on my bedside table and notice a prepared mug of coffee. It brings a smile to my lips, but it’s cold, and I’m annoyed with myself for sleeping so long. I leave the phone to charge while I shower and prepare for the day. The mood-boosting playlist I blare while I’m getting ready does nothing to help my attitude.
For the first time ever, no one is inside when I enter The Big House to replace my cold coffee. My skin crawls from the absence, even though I don’t have the bandwidth to speak with anyone. The sink drips repetitively while I fill my mug, setting my teeth on edge. Every single sensation feels overwhelming.
I have to get out of here.
I may have gone overboard with the caramel creamer this morning. I nearly get a cavity from my first sip and shake my head at myself as I exit onto the front porch.
Thankfully, the keys are in the Defender. I start it up, heading to a familiar place on the ranch, if only to be alone for a little longer to wallow in my terrible mood. Then I’ll pick myself up and carry on with life, because that’s how the world works.
The blind Sutton took me to not long ago is untouched, as far as I can tell. Instead of going inside it, I find an area between the off-road vehicle and the structure that looks safe enough for sitting. I lie back, staring up the sky. The day is overcast and I study the thick clouds floating through my vision.
I lose track of time, just enjoying being grounded with nature and clearing my mind. The tall grass sings like a rain stick in the breeze, and my body begins to chill. I’m about to return the detective’s call when Sutton’s voice breaks through the trees, calling to the ranch hands. Their responses mingle together and I enjoy being a hidden observer for a moment.
The grass rustles and a horse approaches. Someone jumps down, but I don’t need to see to know it’s him. How he found me, or why, I don’t know.
I lie unmoving, scanning the vicinity, when he comes into view. He smiles softly down at me from near my feet. His top button is undone, white shirt peeking out, with his hat low over his eyes. I want him to take me right here in this space, love away all that eats at me from the inside.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Hi, yourself,” he says, dropping to one knee when he’s reached my waist. “You hunting something?”
My mouth tips up on one side. “More like avoiding what’s hunting me.”
He sits, stretching out a leg and keeping the other bent, where he rests an arm. “And what would that be?”
“Guilt. Despair.”
His warm hand brushes loose hair from my face and I lean toward his touch as he starts speaking.
“When I was younger, I had this friend—we were in peewee baseball together—and we were five so we were best friends for life, and nothing could ever separate us. Except he had to move.”
I push to sitting, curious about this new detail he’s sharing.
“It was the end of the world. The apocalypse. I’d never have another best friend again.” He grins at me. “But Mama, she told me, ‘Everyone has a purpose in your life. Some are meant to give you something, some are meant to teach you something, and some are meant to take something you don’t need anymore. Some stay for a lifetime and some are only around for a season.’”
He smiles at me, his hand infusing warmth into my face as he cups my cheek and drags his thumb back and forth along my jaw. “It’s like that. Those feelings are part of you for a reason, but that doesn’t mean you have to hold onto them forever.”
Warm tears crest my lashes, and I laugh through them. “You and your mom always have a way of saying just the right thing.”
“Do we?” I appreciate that he’s surprised by my comment. “Must be a learned trait. She always knows just what to say to me.”
I wipe my eyes.
Sutton’s hand slides into my hair. He grips my neck possessively and pulls me forward for a searing kiss. “You are too good to hold onto those things. The only thing you need to hold onto every day is love. And if you can’t feel enough, then I’m not doing my job, and I’ll have to show you more.”
I smile against his warm lips. “I always feel your love.”
His voice is a whisper. “Good.”
I press onto my knees, and his hand falls from my hair. “Maybe I could use a little more showing.”
“Oh yeah?” His words barely precede me pushing him to sit and straddling him.
“Mmhmm.” The vibration of sound travels through my lips into his neck as I kiss him with an open mouth.
He groans quietly, acutely aware of the rest of the team somewhere in the trees, and grips my ass with a firm hand. “As much as I would love to show you just how much,” he starts to punctuate his words with kisses of his own against my neck, “I don’t think that’s why you’re out here.”
A dismissive grunt is the only response I give him as I press back, placing my hands firmly on his chest. There’s too much love pouring out of him. Even though that’s exactly what we’re discussing, emotions are what I’m trying to avoid. I’d much rather deal in a carnal connection with him at this moment.
“I know what you’re doing.” His voice is low.
I don’t bother hiding it.
“You wanna ride the cowboy? I’m yours. Every fucking day. But you have to make the call, Firecracker. You can’t avoid what’s going on outside this ranch.”
I huff and kiss the corner of his mouth sweetly. “Fine. But I’m not gonna like it.”
He grins before shoving off the ground. “You want me to stick around?”
I shake my head. “No. I’ll be a good girl and call.”
I throw myself back onto the grass and wait until the rustle from Sutton and Johnny Walker leaving has ceased before calling Detective Porter back. He’s left his direct number and picks up on the second ring.
“Detective Porter.” His greeting is just as blasé as the rest of him.
“Detective Porter, this is Maci McCullough.”
“Yes. Thank you for calling.”
I throw an arm over my face, blocking out the clouds. Like I have a choice.
He continues. “I have a few follow-up questions. I don’t need you to come to the station yet, but I did want to touch base with you.”
My muscles tense. I’m regretting the choice not to hire an attorney again. Maybe Hank has some options.
“After we last spoke, I spoke with Colt’s father.” He pauses as if I’m going to respond in a specific way.
Instead, I close my eyes, willing my body to relax into the cool grass and ignore the fury coursing through my veins.
“He had a different take on things and shared an older incident with us. Said you pulled a knife on him.”
My emotions battle amongst themselves, trying to see if rage or defeat is going to come out on top. I can’t believe after everything that he’s done, everything I’ve done to distance myself from him and his abusive tendencies, this may be the story that does me in.
“Do you have anything to say about that?”
Exhaling heavily, I nod to no one, my hair tangling in the grass. “Sure. I’ll explain.”
Detective Porter’s pen clicks.
“Alan made a point to remove any autonomy from me that he could. As a teenager, he constantly made remarks about my clothing, hobbies, dates. Looking back, he was highly inappropriate, but at the time I thought he was just being an asshole.”
“Uh uh.” He doesn’t sound convinced, but I’m not done.
“He and my mother were both dismissive about anything emotional, not that I came to them with much. He always wanted gratitude where it wasn’t warranted. Wanted congratulations when he hadn’t earned it. Everything was about image.” I jump off the ground, pacing. “The night he’s referring to was not long after I turned eighteen, as you said. In fact, I had about three weeks of high school left until graduation.”
“He said it was summer.”
“I’m not going to argue the seasons with him. It was the last week of April.”
“Do you remember the date?” he presses.
“No, not that I see how it matters. But it was a Friday, if that helps.”
“Friday. Got it.”
“I had plans to go out. Alan had been extra pissed for days. For once, I don’t think it had anything to do with me. I just took the brunt. Just before I planned to leave, Alan waltzed into the kitchen where I was. He tried to give me a curfew for an earlier time than I wanted, which I had already worked out with my mother. It wasn’t a significant event, honestly.”
“Go on.” Detective Porter’s tone is neutral.
“I argued the time. He got agitated quickly and crowded me into a corner. I told him that I was an adult and that I could stay out later than whatever time he was insisting on. He grabbed my face with his hand and told me that if I was living in his house, it was by his rules. The knife was something I always carried on me, and I pulled it out without thinking. It pressed into the fabric of his pants at his hip. I doubt it did any damage.”
“You don’t know?”
“I didn’t stick around. When he let go of me, I grabbed a bag of clothes and left.”
“Were you injured?”
“I had bruises on my face.” I recall trying to hide the marks on my face with makeup so no one at school would see, how the flesh of my cheeks had been pressed hard against my teeth, causing them to be tender for several days as they healed.
“Did you report this?”
I sigh. “No. I was young and just wanted to get away.”
“Ok. Where’d the knife come from?”
“It was my grandmother’s. Well, I found it in her garage.” I still have the knife in one of my camera cases.
“Was anyone else there that night? Your mother?”
Sliding into the seat of the Defender, I press my fingers to my temple to stave off the oncoming headache. “No. She arrived after. I called and told her what happened, and he told her his side when she got there.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Alright. I don’t have anything else for now. If I need anything, I’ll give you a call.”
Despite his neutral tone, our call leaves me feeling defeated. “Ok.”
“Have a good day, Maci.” He hangs up.