23-VINCENT
Abby was gone for the week. Said she would be back tomorrow. Giving me the weekend. Or at least going back to our regular routine, and I wouldn’t be doing her chores.
I had fed over thirty horses hay, a few of them grain, and topped off the water troughs. The day was slowly ending, all gold and shadow, and with the sunlight remaining, I’d keep working. Routine kept things quiet in my head.
My aunt, Tiffany, stepped out of the office inside the stable. “Isn’t it quittin’ time for you yet?”
“No, ma’am.” I went over my mental checklist. “Still got a bit to do tonight.”
She nodded and disappeared out the sliding barn door. Vanessa was giving me extra sass tonight, tossing her head at me, and I wondered if her hoof was still bothering her. Her gait was fine. Everything fit right. My mind drifted. Reagan.
Would there be a chance to break away and see her again before Halloween? To feel her soft hair in my rough hands while we kiss. Her little moans she doesn’t mean to slip from her lips to mine in the heat of the kiss.
Footsteps returned. Breaking my thoughts. I didn’t look up. “Forget something?”
My shoulders turned, ready to smirk at Tiff—But my smile died before it formed. Ice rolls down my spine, and I can’t believe she’s smiling at me like I expected her to be here. She shouldn’t be here.
Jori.
My fingers tightened around the brush until my knuckles ached. Vanessa flicked an ear at my tension. I set the brush down before I dropped it. “What are you doing here?” My voice came out colder than I meant, but hell, if I was going to take it back.
She stepped toward me with that same soft, sultry smile she used to weaponize. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Might as well be,” I muttered. “You didn’t say goodbye and vanished.”
“I needed to. I needed space.” She said with practiced sorrow.
A sharp laugh tore out of me, too loud in the quiet barn. Vanessa jerked her head. Four years, and that was her excuse? But now, I could ask the questions that had rotted in my gut. “It’s been four years, Jori. Why now?”
She hesitated for just one second. Long enough to tell me this entire thing was premeditated.
“I saw what happened,” she said. “I know who you were.”
Something inside me cinched tight. So that was it. Not regret. Not closure. Fang. She came back for Fang. The man I created to find her in the beginning of the end.
I forced my jaw to unclench before I cracked a molar. “So you disappear without one damn explanation, but now that you know who was under the mask, suddenly you need to talk?”
Her eyes softened like she expected me to fall apart for her. Like some part of me was still waiting. “I told you, I needed space.”
“Four years isn’t space,” I snapped. “It’s a detour. And the road back to me is closed.”
The barn settled around us. Horses shifting in stalls, grain settling in buckets, and the muted thud of a hoof. She didn’t fit here anymore. Not in this life. Not around these animals. Not around the man I had rebuilt from the wreck she left behind.
Jori dipped her head, eyes glistening. “Fine. I left because I was scared. Your dad died, and you turned into someone else. I knew you were depressed, but then you started making irrational choices. Like proposing to me.”
A flicker of shame prickled up my neck. The memory hit like a hot brand. I shoved a hand through my hair. “I was drunk, and you said we wouldn’t talk about it after. I thought we were good.”
“We are. But also, I’m here now,” she breathed, stepping closer. I picked up Vanessa’s lead rope just to have something between us, like I needed to shield myself from her. “Doesn’t that count for something? We could finish what we started. And from what I saw online, you’re single.”
Single. That was the rumor.
Reagan’s face flashed in my mind. Her laugh in the truck, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear after she looked back up, how safe she made my heart feel without even trying.
The thoughts rushed off when the realization hit me. RusticJJ33—Jori Jones.
“How did you know I was Fang?”
She toyed with her sleeve, pretending the answer was harmless. “Your tattoos peeked through the sliver of skin by your gloves. And… I’d never forget that freckle under your right eye.” Her gaze flicked there like she owned it.
“So you told the entire internet?” My voice echoed off the rafters. “That wasn’t yours to give away.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” she said, annoyed. “That whole masked thing is pretend.”
“Maybe it is. But I’m still Vincent Hawthorne.” My voice shook with anger I couldn’t swallow. “Did you think about my family? The ranch? If people start showing up here looking for Fang—”
She blinked at me, blank and careless. Like the consequences weren’t her concern. “For what it’s worth,” she said, smoothing her hair, “I thought I could come by… see if you’d be interested in rekindling things with an old flame. Let the world know you’re not single.”
“I’m not.” The words were gravel and a life raft. “I’m seeing someone.”
A slow, cruel smirk lifted her mouth. “Who? Some little stable girl?”
My shoulders locked.
“She won’t last. She doesn’t know what you’re like when you shut down. She doesn’t know the things I know.”
“No.” I give her zero information about Reagan. She doesn’t deserve an explanation. “You know,” I said quietly, “after I proposed, I went ring shopping. I thought buying you something shiny would change your mind. Thank God I didn’t, because when I came home, every trace of you was gone.”
Her smugness faltered.
“So let’s leave it at what this is,” I finished. “Over.”
Jori’s chin dipped. “Fine. But when she’s done with you—when she can’t handle your sour moods—don’t expect me to come running.”
I nodded toward the door. “Goodbye, Jori.”
She stared at me for a long moment, searching for the version of me she thought she could still manipulate. When she didn’t find him, she turned and left as quietly as she arrived.
Vanessa nudged my shoulder, grounding me, reminding me where I was—who I was now. I leaned my forehead against her neck, eyes burning hot with the shame and anger Jori had ripped open.
I didn’t have anything else to say. Maybe I had too much to say.
Finding out the woman I once loved was the one who leaked my personal identity to a world of screeching women who were begging me for something I didn’t have to offer anymore.
The last thing we needed was women sneaking through the ranch looking for Fang.
Her words when she’s done with you struck something. The deep feeling of abandonment bubbled in my chest, reminding me of what she did to me. And she had the audacity to assume Reagan would do the same.
Fuck. Tate’s friend crept into my mind, attempting to solidify my feeling to escape. You’re just a rebound. Was I just a rebound? Reagan deserved better than the mess I was. Better than Jori’s ghost still clawing at me. Better than a man who didn’t know if he could give her what she deserved.
I swallowed hard, fingers curling into Vanessa’s mane.
God, I hoped I wasn’t a rebound. And I hoped to hell I wouldn’t break her the way I’d been broken.
?
Unwillingly, Jori weighed on my mind the last twenty-four hours. I didn’t want to be thinking about her. But our conversation ate away at me like a Brown Recluse bite, and thanks to our interaction, I was in one of my sour moods.
My work was done for the evening, and Mark asked my mother and me to join him at the main house. I walked alongside my mom with my hands balled into the pockets of my jacket. Boaz trailed slowly behind us.
“Anything on your mind?” She speaks over the gravel gritting under the rubber of our soles.
Normally, people brush things like this off. But then again, people also thought they had more time. They also didn’t risk their family because of someone outing their private information.
“Jori stopped by yesterday.” I dropped the news on her.
My mother’s confusion encircled us. “What did she want?”
“She wanted to start over. She also admitted that she told the public that I was a masked character for The Forewarning. So I will apologize in advance if women start showing up.”
“Maybe it’ll be good for business.” Mom had a way of making light of things or finding the silver lining when I could not. I didn’t respond, so she asked another. “What did you say to her about getting back together? Can’t be good with the way you’re acting.”
I hadn’t told my mom about Reagan. I didn’t know where it was going, and we had only seen each other once since the event.
“I told her I was seeing someone. Which, I don’t know where it’s going but—Yeah.”
“Oh, is that why you were coming home early Sunday morning?”
I dropped my head, embarrassed to be caught red-handed. She saw me, and I didn’t think we would be discussing it. “Yeah, it was.”
I could feel my mother’s pace slow as she tried to buy time to talk about a girl from her oldest son. “Who is she?”
“Her name is Reagan, she lives two towns over, and I met her at the event. She was my runner.”
Her brow crinkled. “Oh, so does she have potential or are you two just fooling around?”
My boots stop, and I face my mom. “No, she’s definitely got potential. I’m going out next week to a Halloween party her family is throwing.”
“Wow.” Her cool breath is illuminated by the porch light. “So—meeting the family already?”
“Yes. And before you continue, I’ll bring her by sometime. I want you to meet her.” The cold porch steps creaked under the soles of my boots.
“Alright, let’s see what’s going on.”
I grabbed the knob, letting my mom through the threshold first.
“Alright, they’re here,” Mark murmured at the kitchen counter. His tone confirmed the energy we had walked into. Almost like someone had died and they were waiting to break the news to us.
“What’s going on?” Mom asked, stepping up to the counter.
“A developer came by. Wanted to make us an offer on our property.” He jumped straight into the problem, eyes on Mom and me.