Logan
“You don’t need to worry about coming back,” I said, lifting my beer to my lips and taking a long sip. I was sprawled out on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table, half-watching reruns of one of my favorite old sitcoms while I talked to my mom on the phone.
She and Dad were never around—always somewhere else, chasing rodeos and show circuits, bouncing from one side of the country to the other.
That meant the house I grew up in had basically become mine by default.
I kept it up, paid the bills, did the maintenance.
But the deed still carried their names. Every few months, they’d blow into town, stay a week, then vanish again like tumbleweeds on the wind.
I had to give it to them—they were always consistent.
“Are you sure?” my mom asked. “We could add it back to the schedule, make the pit stop at home. It might throw us off by a day or two, but—”
“Really,” I said, cutting her off gently, shaking my head like she could see it. “It’s fine. Nothing’s changed here. No point in wrecking your route just to stop by for a night.”
It had been nearly six months since I’d last seen them. And honestly? I wasn’t complaining. Having the house to myself was kind of a luxury. I’d grown up with the silence, the emptiness, and I’d made peace with it. It was all I’d known.
They weren’t bad people. Not neglectful or cruel.
Just… wild spirits. Two people who were never meant for the quiet rhythm of a small town, never meant for PTA meetings or backyard barbecues.
I was the accident that threw a wrench in their plans—an unexpected pregnancy that nearly cost my mom her barrel-racing career.
I was an only child by blood but had brothers by choice after spending the majority of my childhood at the Cassidys’.
My parents used to tell me the road wasn’t made for children, which is why they never took me along.
In a sense, I guess they were right, because for me, the novelty would’ve worn off—being at home was where I belonged.
I couldn’t imagine constantly being on the move.
“Maybe you could come see a show sometime,” she offered, her voice lighter now. “When we get to Florida, you could fly out for a weekend?”
“I’ll look into it,” I replied, taking another long pull from my beer as I sank deeper into the couch cushions and tipped my head back. The familiar creak of the leather beneath me, the low hum of the TV, and the soft buzz of her voice were all just part of the background noise.
“I’m having my best season right now,” Mom said, her voice brimming with pride.
I smiled, warmth blooming in my chest. “I know. I keep up online.”
I tracked her stats religiously—before and after every competition. I’d watch the events live, cheering her on from my couch like some proud little-league parent.
Still, I hadn’t been to one in person in almost a year. Life on the ranch had swallowed up most of my free time. Between Boone taking over for his dad, us expanding the acreage, and keeping the day-to-day operations running, I barely had time to breathe, let alone travel.
“How are things going there?” she asked. “How’s Boone?”
“He’s good. Everything’s solid. Do you remember Mac?”
She hummed in recognition. “How could I forget that little hell-raiser? He left a lasting impression. Wild as they come.”
I chuckled at the memory. Mac had always been the loudest in the room, doing dumb stunts with Boone while Rhodes and I stood off to the side, shaking our heads and pretending we weren’t amused. I never had the confidence to make a fool of myself like those two did. Still don’t.
“He’s having a kid,” I said. The words left my mouth before I could stop them. I needed to tell someone. I couldn’t spill it to the guys, and I definitely couldn’t say it to Ellie. So Mom was my safest bet. Who was she going to tell?
“Oh dear God,” she laughed. “Who’s the lucky lady?”
I realized then how little I’d told her about what had been going on lately. She knew about Boone and Aspen, but I doubted she’d kept up with the full cast of characters—Theo, Rhodes, Penny…
“Penny Hudson,” I replied.
“Aspen’s friend?” she asked, her tone jumping with surprise.
“Mm-hmm,” I said, leaning back against the couch.
A loud, urgent knock rattled the front door.
My focus snapped straight ahead. The beer in my hand grew suddenly heavier.
“Everything okay?” Mom asked, her voice tight now. “What was that?”
“Someone knocked,” I said, sitting up, my pulse quickening. I adjusted the waistband of my sweatpants and didn’t bother reaching for a shirt. “I’ll call you back.”
We exchanged quick goodbyes and I love you’s before I hung up. I crossed the living room, confusion spiking in the moment. I wasn't sure who would be showing up at this hour.
Just as I grabbed the handle of the front door, another knock came—louder this time.
I opened the door and familiar blond hair caught my attention.
Ellie stood on my porch.
She was looking down at her feet, but the moment I appeared her tear-streaked face snapped up to meet mine. Her eyes were red, puffy, and glassy, like she’d been crying for hours.
“Ace?” I breathed, disbelief and worry tightening in my chest.
She didn’t speak. Just stood there, trembling. Her breaths were shallow, like whatever she was carrying inside was too big to name. Her body shook with quiet sobs, the words clearly stuck somewhere between her heart and her throat.
I stepped out into the cool night air and pulled her into my arms. She collapsed into me as her sobs broke free. I held her close, wrapping my arms tight around her and pressing her into my chest like I could shield her from whatever happened.
“Let it out,” I whispered, resting my chin on top of her head. I ran a hand through her hair, gentle, rhythmic, hoping to soothe her enough to breathe, to talk, to settle.
I didn’t care if I stood there all night. I would if that’s what she needed.
“Do you want to go inside?” I asked softly, leaning back just enough to take her in again.
That’s when I noticed bright red marks on her arms. My stomach dropped.
She gave a faint nod and pulled away, wiping her cheeks as we stepped into the house. I closed the door behind us, watching her move to the couch. She curled up instantly, tucking her legs under her, resting her cheek on her knees like she was trying to disappear.
The TV still played quietly in the background, sitcom laughter echoing through the living room like a cruel contrast.
I moved into the kitchen, grabbing her a glass of water and the stash of sour candy I kept in the cabinet—just in case she ever came over. I didn’t speak until I returned to the couch, settling beside her with one knee bent and an arm stretched along the back of the cushions.
“What’s going on, El?” I asked gently.
She sniffled, staring at the wall like she couldn’t bring herself to look at me. Silence stretched between us, broken only by her soft breaths. The worry consumed me, but I tried not to let it seep through the cracks.
“I went to see Miles tonight…” she finally whispered.
My jaw tensed so tight I thought I might crack a molar. My entire body went rigid, fury stirring hot and fast beneath my skin.
I looked at her arms again. At the marks. At the pain in her eyes.
“I wanted to tell him I didn’t want anything more than friendship,” she said, her voice shaking.
“I tried to say it, but he dismissed me, talked over me. I gave in, figured I’d get through dinner and then try again.
It was fine at first… honestly, it was nice.
But after we ate, he tried to kiss me. I told him no. He didn’t listen.”
My vision blurred with red. This fucker was going to wish he’d never stepped foot in Faircloud.
“It’s not the first time he’s been… persistent,” she added, almost too quiet to hear.
Every word she said pushed the temperature in my veins higher. The only thing holding me together was her voice, but barely.
“I’m going to kill him,” I said, the words bursting from my mouth before I could even think.
I’d never felt ire quite like this before.
“Logan, don’t.” Her hand landed on my forearm, grounding me instantly.
I snapped my eyes to hers, my voice gravel when I asked, “Did he lay his hands on you?”
She hesitated. Swallowed. Then gave the smallest nod.
That was all I needed.
I stood without a word and headed down the hall, straight to my room. Fury marched through every cell of my body. I flung open a drawer, yanked out a pair of jeans and a clean shirt. If he thought he was getting away with this, he didn’t know who the hell he was dealing with.
Just as I tugged the jeans to my hips, I heard her voice behind me.
“I said, don’t,” Ellie repeated, standing in the doorway, her voice softer now but no less certain.
I turned to face her, breath heaving, fists tight at my sides.
“He doesn’t get to do that to you and walk away like it never happened.”
“I’m asking you not to go,” she said. “Stay here. With me.”
“Then I’m calling Boone—he’ll handle it.”
Ellie stopped me from moving any further by reaching out and grabbing my hand, eyes fixed entirely on mine.
“No… please.”
Ellie’s face was pale and tear-streaked, but there was strength in her voice. Her lips parted slightly, like the words had cost her everything to say. And I realized then—this wasn’t about Miles anymore.
This was about her needing safety tonight. She wasn’t protecting him but asking for herself.
I looked at her—really looked at her—and knew that if I left, I’d only be adding to the chaos she was already drowning in.
If I ignored her plea, if I made this about revenge instead of comfort, I wouldn’t be any better than the bastard I wanted to bury.
She needed me here.
So I nodded slowly, letting out a long breath, and dropped the shirt in my hand. I crossed the room toward her, brushing a hand along her arm as I stood with her. She flinched under my touch, but didn’t pull away.
“I’m not letting it go,” I whispered.
“I know,” she replied, her voice just as low.
“Come on,” I said gently, wrapping my fingers around hers as I led her back toward the living room.
She followed without protest, sinking into the couch with the kind of exhaustion that clung to her bones. I lifted my arm in silent invitation, and she curled into my side like it was instinct. Her head found my chest, her legs tucked beneath her, and for a moment, the world outside us disappeared.
I was still seething. My jaw ached from clenching, my fists itching for a fight. Every part of me screamed to do something, anything to make Miles pay for what he did. But right now, none of that mattered.
“If, or when you’re ready to talk about what happened,” I said quietly, my voice just above a whisper, “I’m here.”
Ellie didn’t move. But her voice, when it came, cracked something wide open in me.
“I know,” she said. “That’s why I came here.”
The words landed in my chest like a gut punch. I tightened my arm around her, fighting the rush of emotion that choked me.
“Let’s watch a movie,” I offered, trying to anchor us to something simple. “And afterward, I’ll get the spare room set up for you. You’ll stay the night.”
She reached for the remote, fingers brushing mine as she pulled it into her lap. She scrolled through my streaming apps like she’d done it a hundred times.
“I don’t want you to go through the trouble of making the bed,” she said softly, still navigating the screen.
“Ellie,” I said, my voice firmer this time but gentle. “It’s the least I can do. And in the morning, I’ll make us breakfast.”
She hesitated, then gave a small nod against my chest.
Finally, she landed on a rom-com, one of those comforting, predictable ones, and we let it play. Time passed. I wasn’t really paying attention to the movie. Not when her breathing began to even out. Not when her hand slowly relaxed against my chest. Not when her soft little snore gave her away.
She was asleep.
I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the small sliver of peace she’d found, but once the credits rolled, I carefully slid out from under her and eased her down onto the couch. I grabbed a blanket, tucking it over her before slipping down the hallway to the spare room.
Fresh sheets, clean pillowcases, and a folded blanket at the end of the bed. I gathered up the random junk I’d tossed around during the weeks, including some old laundry and an abandoned box of tools, and shoved it to one side to clear the space.
This room used to be my childhood bedroom. Before my parents started traveling more and staying gone longer, I’d slept in here. Now it was mostly storage, but it still held pieces of the past. Posters on the wall. A few worn books and old clothes.
I came back into the living room and leaned down, brushing my hand over Ellie’s shoulder. “Come on,” I murmured. “Let’s get you into bed.”
She stirred, groggy and out of it. I reached down and shifted her, but she refused to budge.
Instead of waking her, I scooped her up gently, cradling her in my arms as I walked down the hall. I was careful of my steps, making sure I didn't wake her. She’d finally calmed down, and I wanted her to stay that way.
Bed made, I placed her down and tucked her in.
Staring down at her now, my heart ripped in two. How someone could put their hands on a woman, let alone Ellie… Abysmal.
I reached out, my knuckles brushing the peaks of her cheeks and pushing pieces of hair away from her face before leaving her to rest.
In the silence of the house, I went through the motions of turning off lights and locking doors, but my mind was miles away.
I wanted to call Boone. To get in my truck and head straight to that bastard’s house. I wanted fists and fury and every ounce of rage I felt to pour out of me. But I didn’t.
I went to bed instead.
Laid on my back and stared up at the ceiling, every muscle in my body tight and burning with tension. I couldn’t stop replaying what she said, what she looked like when she stood on my porch, trembling and scared.
I didn’t sleep much. Just a few restless hours until the first hints of dawn began to bleed through the blinds.