Chapter 14-Esme
Trying to shove everything that just happened into a neat little box?
Yeah.
That’s not working.
Not even a little.
My body still feels him.
Everywhere.
My lips are swollen, my skin too sensitive, my thoughts a tangled mess of what the hell did we just do and why did it feel so right.
And my heart?
God.
Don’t even get me started on that.
Because the truth is—I didn’t just sleep with him.
I fell right back into him.
Like no time had passed.
Like I hadn’t spent three years building walls just to keep from breaking over him again.
“Stupid,” I mutter under my breath, staring out the window as the landscape rolls by in wide, open stretches of South Dakota.
Flat land. Big sky. Endless horizon.
Beautiful.
Lonely.
And right now?
A perfect reflection of the mess inside my head.
Because I should be mad.
I should be furious.
At him.
At everything that happened.
At the fact that he believed Paul over me.
At the fact that he just let me walk away.
But I’m not.
Not really.
And that might be the most frustrating part of all.
Because I get it.
I hate that I get it—but I do.
Paul didn’t just lie to me.
He lied to Benji.
To his best friend.
To the man who trusted him with everything.
And Benji?
He loved him.
I saw it.
The friendship they had.
The way they were together.
The way they had each other’s backs.
That kind of bond?
It’s not easy to question.
Not easy to break.
So yeah.
Of course he listened to him.
My jaw tightens.
“But did you have to believe him over me?” I mouth, no volume to my voice for him to hear.
Because that’s the question that won’t go away.
That’s the one that keeps circling, over and over, like a wound that never fully healed.
I exhale slowly, pressing my forehead against the cool glass.
What about us?
All our plans? Our promises? Our vows?
But I guess I ran too.
I go even quieter still.
Because I did. I ran.
Like a goddamn coward.
I didn’t stay.
I didn’t fight.
I didn’t demand answers or force the truth out into the open.
I left. Just packed up what little I had left and disappeared like I was guilty. Like I actually had something to hide.
God, Esme, what did you do?
I whisper the answer to myself, closing my eyes.
“I ran.”
“What’s that?” Benji asks, but doesn’t look over since he’s busy, driving the truck.
“Oh, nothing,” I reply and shake my head, playing it off.
Because the past is done. And now?
Now I’m here.
With him. In this truck. Hiding out from a stalker. On my way to meet the one man he hates more than anything else in this world.
Because this is my life now.
“Why are we stopping?” I ask as he pulls into a lot.
I find the courage to finally turn and look at him.
My voice is steady.
Calm. Even.
Like being next to him doesn’t do things to me.
It’s a lie, but it’s all I got.
Because the truth is, inside I’m anything but calm and steady.
Benji doesn’t look at me right away.
His hands tighten slightly on the wheel, jaw set, eyes fixed on the sky ahead like he’s already somewhere else entirely.
“Because it’s about time I bury the past. Time I tell my father exactly what I think of him,” he says, voice low, controlled in a way that feels dangerous.
I swallow.
“That’s not exactly something you do casually, Benji.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks.
“I’m not doing it casually.”
No, he’s not.
And I can see that.
I can feel it.
The tension rolling off him in waves.
The barely contained fury sitting just beneath the surface.
“Time I stop living under the shadow of being his bastard,” he adds.
And that hits.
Hard.
Because I’ve heard him talk about his father before.
The disgust.
The anger.
The deep, bone-deep resentment that never quite faded, no matter how far he got from that man’s shadow.
The older, married man who seduced his teenage mother.
Got her pregnant.
Walked away like it meant nothing.
And now?
That same sonovabitch is still reaching into his life.
Still trying to control things.
Still pulling strings.
Including the one that sent a motorcycle gang after his business.
After his own son.
My Benji.
My stomach twists. I shouldn’t think of him like that, but how can I not?
“So, this isn’t just a conversation then,” I say carefully. “It’s a confrontation.”
“Probably,” he mutters. Shrugs.
I look at him then.
Really look.
And his eyes—those deep sapphire eyes—they’re blazing.
Not just with anger.
With something else.
Something sharper.
Something that feels like it’s not just about his father.
It feels like he’s saying something to me, too.
Like this is about more than that particular aspect of his past.
More than bad blood.
More than revenge.
Like this is about who he is now.
Who he’s choosing to be.
And maybe it’s about who he’s choosing to be with.
My pulse stutters.
“Benji,” I start, not even sure what I’m going to say.
He glances at me then.
Just for a second.
But it’s enough.
Because there’s something in his expression I’ve never seen before.
Not back then.
Not now.
Something steady.
Certain.
Like he’s already made up his mind about something—and I’m just catching up.
I swallow.
And look away first.
Because I don’t think I’m ready for whatever that look means.
He pulls back onto the road, and it stretches on for a few more miles before it changes.
The land shifts.
The fencing grows taller.
Stronger.
And then—I see it.
Gunner Land & Seed.
It sprawls out across the landscape like it owns the damn state.
Bigger than anything I expected.
Barns the size of small stadiums.
Endless fields.
Heavy equipment moving in the distance.
Money.
Power.
Control.
Legacy.
All of it wrapped up in one place.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, sitting up a little straighter.
Benji doesn’t respond.
But I see the way his grip tightens on the wheel.
The way his shoulders go rigid.
The way his entire body seems to lock into something harder.
Colder.
This isn’t just a familial visit.
This is a battlefield.
This is war.
The truck turns onto the long access road, gravel crunching beneath the tires as we pass through a wide metal gate.
And just like that—there’s no turning back.
My heart starts to pound.
Not just from nerves.
Not just from fear.
But from something else.
Something bigger.
Because whatever happens here?
Whatever Benji is about to do—it’s going to change everything.
And I have a feeling there’s no walking away from it this time.