Chapter 18 Eric
T he door shakes under Tristan’s relentless pounding, each thud vibrating through the house, rattling the windows, sending shockwaves straight through my chest. Emma’s wide, tear-filled eyes lock onto mine. The fire behind her flickers low, its warmth no match for the ice settling in my gut. The fragile peace between us shatters, splintering into jagged edges that slice through the moment.
“Get dressed.” I grab a shirt off the couch, shoving one arm in as the next blow rattles the door.
“Eric!” Tristan’s voice booms. “Last fucking warning!”
The second I throw open the door, his fist connects with my jaw. A sharp explosion of pain blinds me for a second, and I stumble back, gripping the frame to stay upright.
“You fucking bastard!” Tristan charges forward, grabbing my shirt, his grip tight with rage. “What did you do to our sister?”
“Tristan, stop!” Emma’s voice is sharp and desperate, but her brother doesn’t let go.
His forearm slams against my throat, pinning me to the wall. My lungs seize. “Caroline told us everything,” he snarls, his breath hot with fury. “She told us how you used Emma to save your pathetic ranch. About your little arrangement.”
My blood turns to ice. How the fuck does Caroline know?
“It’s not what you think.”
Julian steps through the doorway, his expression colder than a goddamn graveyard. “Not what we think?” His voice is a blade slicing through the room. “We trusted you to keep her safe. You were only supposed to be a distraction while Dad was dying. Instead, you brought her here, away from our father, just so you could use her for your grandfather’s money?”
The color drains from Emma’s face. “What?”
My stomach lurches. “Emma?—”
Julian slams his arm harder against my throat, cutting me off.
“Dad’s in the ICU,” Tristan says, his focus locked on Emma. “Has been for days. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? Because this piece of shit kept you here, feeding you lies about Huntz.”
Emma stumbles back, her breath coming in quick, panicked gasps. “No,” she whispers, shaking her head. She turns to me, searching for something—anything—in my face. “Tell me it’s not true.”
I open my mouth, desperate to explain, but Julian’s fist crashes into my ribs. Pain detonates through my chest, knocking the breath from my lungs.
“You were supposed to look after her,” Julian seethes. “Not seduce her. Not trap her here.”
Emma’s voice is barely a whisper. “Look after me?”
Julian lets go of me with a shove, and I suck in a breath, my ribs screaming in protest.
“Your brothers wanted to protect you,” I rasp, shame burning through me like acid. “They asked me to bring you here. To keep you occupied. But then I needed the engagement to save the ranch?—”
Emma’s breath hitches. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “You kept me from my father on purpose?”
I push forward, reaching for her. “I was trying to protect you?—”
“Protect her?” Tristan barks out a laugh, bitter and sharp. “You brought her to Lords Valley to save your precious fucking ranch.”
“Sending her here was your fucking idea. Not mine,” I grunt, pointing my finger into Tristan’s chest. Blood surges through my body.
Emma flinches, like the words slap her harder than Julian’s punch. “You knew they were sending me here to keep me away from my father?” She chokes out the words. “Why would you agree to do that?”
“They asked me to do them a favor.” The words taste bitter on my tongue. “I didn’t want to lie but?—”
“—but you were willing to do it to get me here.”
I shake my head, my pulse hammering in my ears. “No. Emma, we should?—”
But Julian doesn’t let me finish. His fist slams into my mouth this time, and blood fills my mouth again, the coppery taste coating my tongue.
“Enough!” Emma screams. “All of you, just stop!”
We all freeze. She stands there, trembling, her hands balled into fists, her cheeks streaked with silent tears. And it absolutely guts me.
I take a step toward her, but her brothers block my path.
“Emma, please,” I beg, reaching for her.
She jerks away like I’ve burned her. Her blue eyes, so full of warmth just hours ago, are now cold, sparking with anger.
“Don’t touch me.” Her voice is ice. “You know, I’ve come to expect my brothers to treat me like a child, but you?” She looks at each of her brothers and shakes her head. She looks at me again. “You knew how much I wanted to see my father…”
“That’s why I said we needed to go see him tomorrow,” I explain.
“You said you loved me,” she whispers, shaking her head. “But love doesn’t lie. Love doesn’t keep someone from their dying father.” She glares at her brothers.
“I do love you,” I insist.
Tristan steps forward, his voice soft now, almost pitying. “Dad’s been asking for you. Every day.”
Emma gasps, her body shaking. “You son of a bitch— Both of you! You promised to text me every day. Now, you show up telling me he asked for me every day? Fuck you. You could have called or texted me at any time, and you know, I would have dropped everything. Stop trying to pin the blame for your actions on Eric.” Without another word, she turns and bolts for the door.
“Emma!” I move to follow, but Tristan’s hand clamps onto my shoulder, yanking me back.
“You go near her again,” he growls, his grip tightening, “and I’ll kill you.”
I wrench out of his hold. “You don’t get it. There’s more happening here than you realize. Huntz?—”
“Save it,” Tristan snaps. “We checked. Huntz isn’t a threat.”
But he is. I know it. I feel it in my goddamn bones.
“He’s here,” I insist, panic clawing at my chest. “I saw him yesterday. He’s been watching?—”
Julian’s fist slams into my ribs again, stealing the air from my lungs. I crumple forward, gasping.
“The only reason you’re still breathing,” Julian snarls, his face inches from mine, “is because we need to get Emma home. But this isn’t over.”
I kneel on the floor, blood dripping from my split lip, watching as they turn and leave to find Emma. The sound of their car pulling away sends panic surging through my veins.
Fuck.
I scramble to my feet, ignoring the throbbing pain in my ribs, pull on my boots and sprint out the door. I barely register the morning sun slicing through the cold air as I run to my parents’ house. My chest heaves, each step agony, but I don’t stop.
I reach the porch just as my mother’s sobs hit me like a physical blow.
“Mom?” My voice is raw. “Mom, what’s wrong? Have you seen Emma?”
She looks up, her face streaked with tears, her hands trembling. “Emma was here... Her brothers were looking for her too. She came crying, and we told her about Misty.”
Ice floods my veins. “What about Misty?”
Her lips part, but no words come out. Then, barely a whisper, she says, “Misty’s my daughter. She’s Huntz’s daughter.” Her voice cracks. “We didn’t know when she moved to town… she’s your half-sister. She’s the baby he stole from the hospital. Emma knows. She ran out to find her. Misty's still missing.”
The ground tilts beneath me, the world slipping sideways as the weight of my mother’s words crashes down. The baby I thought was lost—gone before she ever had a chance—was never really gone. She’s here. In this mess. In this nightmare. And Emma just ran straight into the fire to find her.
"What?" The word barely makes it past my lips, my throat closing.
A cold dread spreads through my stomach like ice creeping through my veins. If Huntz has Misty, he’ll use her to lure Emma.
I move before I can think, bolting for the door, but Grandpa steps onto the porch, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. He doesn’t even need to ask. He sees everything—the blood on my lip, the guilt in my stance, the chaos barely held together behind my ribs.
“What have you done, Eric?” His voice is steady, but the weight of it slams into me harder than any of Julian’s punches.
He settles onto the front steps, gripping a stack of old photographs in his trembling hands. I recognize them immediately. One of me as a kid, balanced on his shoulders, both of us laughing, his face full of pride. Another of us fishing by the lake, his hands guiding mine as I fumbled with the bait.
My chest tightens as I drop beside him, my legs barely holding me up. I’ve lied to him. Deceived him. Betrayed the man who taught me everything about what it means to stand tall and do right. And now, I’ve broken everything.
“Emma… She left me, Grandpa,” I choke out, the words burning my throat. The truth tastes like rusted metal, bitter and sharp. “I coerced her to pretend she was my fiancée to save the farm.”
His face darkens, his fingers tightening around the stack of photos. "What?"
The dam inside me breaks. “I lied to you. I did it all wrong. The engagement… It started as just a way to keep the ranch. But then…” My voice shakes. “I love her, Grandpa. I love her more than anything. And now… I think I’ve lost her.”
Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. He stares at me, his brown eyes—eyes I inherited—full of something I can’t bear to see. Not anger. Not disappointment. Something worse. Loss.
His breath catches. His hand flies to his chest, fingers clutching at his shirt.
"Grandpa?" I lurch forward, grabbing his shoulders as he sways.
The stack of photos slips from his grasp, scattering across the porch like shattered pieces of my past.
“Grandpa, stay with me! Please.” My voice cracks, but he doesn't answer. His face pales, his chest rising in ragged, uneven gasps.
“Someone help!” I shout, my pulse hammering. “Annabelle!”
The front door flies open. Dad rushes out, eyes wild with fear as he drops to his knees beside us.
Annabelle appears next, her breath hitching. "CPR! You need to start CPR!"
My hands move before my brain catches up. I lower him onto the porch, pressing my palms over his chest. One-two-three-four. One-two-three-four. Breathe.
The cold digs into my knees, but I ignore it. My entire world is reduced to the frail rise and fall of my grandfather’s chest beneath my hands. The same hands that taught me how to rope cattle, how to fix a broken fence, how to be a man.
I press harder. One-two-three-four. "Come on, Grandpa. Please."
Memories flood my mind. His laughter as he tossed me into the air. His steady hands guiding mine on my first ride. His voice—warm and certain—telling me I was meant to do great things.
"Please don’t leave me,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
Dad grips my shoulder. "The ambulance is coming."
Grandpa's eyes flutter open, and for a brief, fleeting second, hope sparks inside me. He exhales slowly, his lips parting, his final words barely a whisper.
"Make it right."
His hand slips from Annabelle’s, and his chest stills beneath my hands.
“No,” I gasp. "No, no, no."
I keep pushing, keep pressing, but he’s gone.
My father gently pulls me back, but I fight him. I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I press harder, the weight of failure crushing me.
"I'm sorry," I sob, the words falling apart in my throat. “I’m so sorry, Grandpa. I never meant for this.”
Mom drops to her knees, her tears soaking into his shirt as she whispers his name over and over, as if saying it might bring him back.
The world tilts again. Emma is still out there. Misty is still missing. And Huntz—Huntz is waiting.
I push to my feet, staggering blindly toward the road. I don’t think. I just run.
A train whistle shrieks through the morning air, and I veer toward the sound, my gut screaming at me to hurry.
As I crest the hill by the river, my stomach drops. Emma’s sunflower anklet blinks in the faded grass. I pick it up and lift my head to see three figures standing on the bridge, their silhouettes black against the steel tracks.
Even from here, I recognize Emma’s small frame. Her hair whips in the wind as she stands next to Misty, their hands clasped. And at the other end of the bridge—Huntz. The train’s whistle screams.
“Emma!” My voice is lost in the wind; she doesn’t turn.
I sprint faster, the cold air tearing through my lungs. Every step feels like running through wet cement, dragging me down. My ribs burn, and my body screams, but I push forward.
The train barrels closer, the tracks trembling under its weight.
Huntz steps toward them. Emma backs up and Misty follows.
"Emma!" The word rips from my throat, raw and desperate.
Time slows as I watch them drop, disappearing off the edge of the bridge. My lungs seize, and I stumble.
Emma and Misty cling to the underside of the steel beams, their arms straining against the weight of their bodies. Huntz hangs too, his movements eerily calculated, his grip unnervingly sure. The train barrels over them, shaking the bridge with the force of a violent earthquake. Metal screeches. The deafening roar of wheels against steel drowns out my pulse, but I can feel it hammering through my skull.
And then, a gunshot cracks the air.
“No!” I scream, launching forward.
My legs burn as I hurry toward the riverbank, each step feeling like a lifetime. The bridge looms overhead, and as I reach the edge of the water, Emma loses her grip.
She falls, and time fractures.
Her hair fans out around her, a golden halo catching the morning light before she vanishes beneath the surface. The river swallows her whole, leaving only a violent ripple in her place.
Another gunshot rings out, but all I see is the water, and the dark, churning current where she disappeared.
This is my fault.
I did this.
I brought her here. I lied to her.
And now, I’m losing her.
“Emma!” Her name rips from my throat, raw and broken. My entire world collapses in on itself.
I don’t think. I just move. I yank off my boots, shuck off my sweatpants, and dive.
The river’s cold is a blade to my chest, cutting through my ribs and locking up my lungs. The current grips me like an unseen monster, dragging me under, but I fight. I fight because I have to. My arms pump through the water, each stroke driven by pure, blind desperation.
Emma is down there. Alone. Drowning. And I have to find her.
The river is inky black beneath the surface. My hands swipe through nothing. The silt stings my eyes, burning as I search, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. My lungs scream, my chest tightening. Still, I push deeper, fighting against the relentless pull of the current.
Then—
A flash of movement.
Hair. A limp body. Drifting, caught in the undertow.
I kick harder, reaching, stretching, until my fingers brush fabric. I grab her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and pulling her against me. Her body is motionless. Too still.
I break the surface, gasping for air.
“I’ve got you, Ems,” I choke out. My voice is raw, barely a whisper against the roaring in my ears.
I fight the current, dragging us both toward the shore, my body screaming with exhaustion. Every stroke feels heavier, my limbs burning. When my feet finally hit solid ground, I haul her up onto the grass, collapsing beside her.
She’s pale. Too pale. Her lips are tinged with blue, and her body’s unnervingly still.
No.
My hands tremble as I check for a pulse.
Nothing.
No, no, no.
“Emma,” I whisper. I press my mouth to hers, breathing air into her lungs.
“Come on, baby. Breathe for me.”
I start compressions, pressing against her chest, and counting out loud like it will somehow keep me grounded.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Blood stains her sweatshirt, spreading across her stomach in an angry, seeping wound.
Fuck.
I press harder. My hands shake, and my chest os tight with panic.
“Come on, Ems,” I plead, my voice cracking. “Come back to me.”
I keep going.
Memories flash behind my eyes—Emma laughing in the sunflower field, teasing me at the bar, pressing her lips to mine in the soft glow of the firelight. All the moments I should have cherished more. All the time I wasted lying to her, pushing her away, when all I wanted was to keep her close.
I can’t lose her.
“Please,” I whisper, my forehead pressing against hers. “I love you. I love you so damn much.”
I breathe into her again, willing her to respond, willing her to wake up.
“Don’t leave me.” My voice breaks. “Don’t you dare leave me now.”
A sob rips through my chest. My hands curl into fists, pressing against her cold skin.
Then—
A faint sputter.
Emma’s body jerks as she gasps, water spilling from her lips. My breath hitches, and relief crashes into me so hard, I nearly collapse. I quickly turn her on her side and her eyelids flutter, her gaze unfocused, but she’s breathing as she coughs out the water.
“You’re okay,” I whisper, cradling her against me. “I’ve got you.”
The sirens are already closing in, flashing lights bouncing off the trees.
I scoop her into my arms and start running.
I won’t let her go. Not now. Not ever.
Because despite all the lies, mistakes, and broken promises—one thing remains true:
I love her.
And I’ll fight like hell to keep her.