Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
TRIPP
I wake stiff-necked and cold. It takes me a moment to realise where I am.
The sun peeks between the mountains, the low sun ready to greet today and the sound of the eagle's piping notes settle my realization.
Rolling my head to the side, I gaze to where she was sitting last night and I see I'm alone.
Sighing, I push out of the rocker and stretch my arms up then bend my neck, cracking each time and man, it felt good.
Walking into the house, no one is there to greet me. I tiredly trudge into the kitchen, fill the coffee pot and put it on, then my tired legs take me to the bathroom. My eyes are like slits, my head pounds.
Opening the door, a scream wakes me up and that's when I see Dixie wrapped in a towel.
“Shit, sorry—I'm so sorry,” I hide my eyes and back out of the room.
I turn, walking to my bedroom and slam my door.
I groan, annoyed that my cock is hardening over the sight of her.
Kicking my boots off, I climb onto my bed and fall face down. My mind fills with images of Dixie. I've seen her body before, many times. But something about it today felt different. It had been years. Her body had changed, in the best way. Curves in places where they never were before, boobs more rounded and fuller.
My cock swells and I am desperate to jerk off, but I restrain.
Rolling onto my back, my eyes pin to the ceiling and I try to think about everything other than her silky wet skin.
I'm not alone with my thoughts long when a glum looking Pacey walks into my room like a stroppy teenager.
“Tripp,” he grunts, falling onto the bed next to me.
“Pacey,” I roll my head to the side, looking at his side profile. He still looks baby faced. Soft stubble and golden locks.
“I feel like death.”
“I'm not surprised,” I sigh, my eyes back on the ceiling.
“Did I say anything out of line last night?”
“You blamed me for Austin,” and now it's Pacey's turn to look at me.
“You know I didn't mean that man...” he pauses, breath held.
“I know, you were just looking for someone to blame,” my lips pull into a soft smile.
“It's just so fucked up,” he scrubs his face.
“I know,” I sigh. Because it's the truth. It is fucked up.
“He didn't do it man,” Pacey rolls on his side, propping his hand under his head.
I hum. “We all know that, but the last person to see Clay alive was Austin. He was seen dragging him into the back of our truck... then he winds up on our land.”
“He can't go to jail; can you talk to Kelcie?” I can hear the desperation in his voice.
My chest rattles.
“There is no point, Kelcie has fucked us every which way possible. I shouldn't have trusted him, and that is on me.”
Pacey falls back to the bed, hands over his face.
“I'll fix it Pace, I promise. I won't let them send an innocent man to jail.”
The thing is, I had no idea if I could fix it. My confidence was shot.
“I've lost my job, I can't lose my best friend too.”
Austin wasn't just Pacey's best friend. He was all of ours. He is Aspen's older brother. We grew up together, days spent down the creek, evenings causing chaos wherever we could. I feel like things are slipping through my fingers and there is nothing I can do to stop them, no matter how much I try and grab a hold.
I needed to protect the land. I needed to make sure they didn't dig down to the goldmine. I needed to protect what was ours.
“You won't lose him, brother.” My throat bobs, the lump inside burning through me, “I promise.” And I really wish I could keep that promise, but I know that I couldn't.
Because deep down I knew Austin was doomed. Even if we could prove that he was innocent, they would strike him down with something else. They already had their judgement. They already had their man.
Silence crackles between us.
“So, this Dixie chick...” I hear the smile that presents itself on his boyish face.
“What about her?”
“Smoking hot.”
I laugh softly.
“I suppose so.”
“Oh, fuck off, you know she's hot.”
I roll my eyes.
“She's changed a lot from what I remember in school.”
“She's all grown up,” I remind him.
“She's grown hot. What's the deal, she with someone?”
“No idea, haven’t really said much to her. Trying to keep my distance. She won't be around long. Mentioned she is here for a personal issue then will be back to wherever she came from.”
“They always say that, then she'll end up staying and you'll both fall madly in love,” he scoffs, shaking his head from side to side.
“This isn’t some romance movie,” I sigh loudly. “She's got a life; she is a singer, no doubt her name in shining lights. She had no life here. There is nothing here for her. Family is all gone, what could she possibly have here to keep her?”
Pacey rubs his hand over his stubble.
“Have you not asked her?”
“No, why would I? We're not friends, I can't just ask her.”
He sighs, sitting up before looking at me over his shoulder. “You can, you just won't because you're a pussy.”
I scoff.
“I was thinking,” he says as he sits up.
“Did it hurt?” I smirk, and he leans over me, slapping me round the head.
I swat his hand away, sitting up and pushing my hand through my tousled hair.
“Anyway, back to what I was saying,” he rolls his eyes in an exaggerated manner as he pushes from the bed. “Do you think Riggs would let me help out around here? I need the distraction.”
He rocks onto the balls of his feet, hands shoved into the front pockets of his Levi's.
“I can't see why not, there is always something to do around here,” I shrug one shoulder up.
“Cool, I’ll go over to Crooked Creek,” he gives a nod then turns on his heel.
“Oh, make sure you knock,” I say a little louder as he gets to the bedroom door and opens it slightly.
“Huh? Why?”
“Trust me on this one...” a soft chuckle escapes out of me, “just knock.” Winking, I push up onto my feet and walk out the room behind him, giving him a soft squeeze on his shoulder.
He disappears downstairs and my eyes scan the landing. Stepping towards the bathroom, I lift my hand to knock, but as my knuckles brush against the oak of the door, it opens.
“Dixie?” I call out, not wanting to catch her in a compromising position again.
Nothing.
The room still has warm steam radiating from it, but I take that as my cue to step in. Closing the door and locking it, I peel yesterday’s clothes off my body and discard them into the laundry hamper. Turning the shower knob, the hot water spurts from the head and I step under it, the hot water soothing my aching muscles.
Definitely do not recommend sleeping on a wooden rocker.
-10/10.
Once out the shower and re-dressed for the day, I hear the commotion downstairs of my mom and dad bickering and Pacey trying to diffuse the ticking time bomb.
“Hey hey,” I call out as I walk in and see my mom and dad toe to toe, chest to chest.
I watch as Pacey's shoulders sag in relief.
“What's going on?” I ask, arms folded across my chest and I feel like I am the parent.
“This whole Austin thing, your dad wants to be the hero and take the wrap for Clay.”
“I mean,” Pacey runs his hand round the back of his neck, head tilting and I turn to look at him, utter confusion on my face.
Just as I am about to open my mouth, my mom walks over to Pacey and clips him around the back of his head.
“Ow,” he half laughs, half grumbles as he rubs out the pain.
“No, Dad, you're not handing yourself in for a crime you didn't commit,” I shake my head from side to side and usher my mom to sit down at the dining room table.
My dad's eyes follow, and I know the look that flashes across his eyes. Eyes that widen as I step closer to him, hands on my hips as I lower my voice.
“Tell me you didn't do it.”
My dad's head is dropped, eyes firmly fixed on the ground as I hear the sharp intake on his inhale.
“Dad, please, tell me you didn't,” and now I whisper, because I am struggling to get the words out.
His dark green eyes finally land on mine.
“I roughed him up a bit, he came onto the ranch late in the evening. Spooked your mother to death. I walked out with my shotgun, and he fronted me out. Telling me that he was coming for my three boys. He was disoriented, like he had lost his head or something. Pupils dilated and his normal impeccable self was scruffy and dirty.”
I look over my shoulder at Pacey and nod for him to go and sit with mom. He goes to protest, but with the slight narrow of my eyes, his head is down as he walks towards my mom.
Once I know he is out of earshot, I drag my dad towards the stools and sit him down.
“So, you roughed him around? Then what?”
“I hit him in the face with the stock of my gun,” his fingers lock between themselves.
I wait for him to talk. “He went down too easy, nose busted. It took me a moment to realise what had happened. I lowered myself over him, pressed my fingers against his pulse. It was beating, barely.”
I am shocked.
Words don't come easy.
“I stepped back, turning on my heel to run into the house for my cell, but when I came back outside... he was gone.”
He rolls his lips. Then wets them with his tongue.
“Next thing I know, he was found dead at the bottom of the cows field by the creek.”
I suck in a breath, a light whistle filling the room.
“You say nothing, do you understand me?” My tone has bite to it, a fair warning.
He gives a solemn nod and I walk towards the front door, and only then when I turn the corner do I see Dixie standing there, eyes wide and Lainey snuggled into her chest.
Running my hand through my hair, I look over my shoulder then let my eyes connect with hers.
“How much of that did you hear?” I keep my voice low, her beautiful blue eyes bounce back and forth between mine.
“Enough,” she whispers, and my fucking stomach drops.
“Shit,” I grit, reaching for her elbow, I pull her to out of the house and onto the front porch.
“Get off me,” she tugs away from me, careful not to wake Lainey.
“You don't understand, you shouldn't have been fucking eavesdropping,” my temper is slowly slipping.
“Where was I supposed to go?” her brows furrow.
“Anywhere, but not hanging around the corner of the wall listening to something you have no business listening to.”
“It is my business if it was your dad that killed my daughter’s,” and my fucking blood runs cold.
“What?!”
Fingers are running through my hair before they're dragging down my face.
She says nothing.
I couldn't believe this. Stepping towards the edge of the porch, my hands are back on my hips as I look out at the picturesque scenery in front of me. Sloped, mountain sides, points that brush fingertips with the angels above us and rolling green hills.
My chest rattles as I exhale.
Letting my head fall forward, I softly shake it before turning to face her. My hand lifting from my hip, fingers rubbing across my mouth.
“So, you were a thing then?” I ask, and I am fully aware my tone has bite to it like I am jealous. I am not jealous. Far from it actually.
The skin on the back of my neck erupts in goosebumps.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” she begins to bounce a fussing Lainey in her arms, rocking her hips slowly from side to side, “But no, it was a one-time thing.”
She averts her gaze from me, looking out at the same picturesque scenery that I was just besotted with.
“Well, maybe a two- or three-times thing but definitely no more than that.”
I scoff.
I am judging her.
Felt a dick for doing it, but I couldn't help it.
“Don't scoff at me, you have no right to judge me.”
Rolling my eyes, my hands are back on my hips as I begin to pace.
“This why you’re back then? Clay's funeral?” My legs stop as my eyes burn into her.
She gives a shallow nod. “Great, so you're staying in my home, under my roof just so you have somewhere to stay before you attend his funeral.”
I watch as she rolls her lips and I shake my head once more.
“Why didn't you tell me?” rage simmers inside of me as her ocean blue eyes connect with mine.
“I didn't know how,” she answers softly, stepping closer to me for just a moment. “But it is also none of your business. Your mom and dad took me and my daughter in. You out of all people should know how hard that was for me, I have nothing here, no family, no home... I packed up and ran. I wanted to make a better life for myself and yet...” she pauses, and I see the glisten of tears in her eyes. Her throat bobs as Lainey's sweet cries begin to fill the tense atmosphere between us.
Her eyes search mine for something, anything, but I turn away from her and begin to walk down the steps and onto the dusty ground, my boots crunching.
I needed to clear my head, it was full and fuzzy, messy and hectic.
I don't look back behind me as Lainey's cries go from soft whimpers to piercing screams.
I throw my arm up, cowboy hat tilted down, and I walk to the only place that feels like my second home.
The Warren's.