2. Chapter 2 - Cade
Every time I turn the page, the knot in my stomach gets tighter.
Years.
That’s how long someone has been harassing my family, and I’ve been hiding in Texas to avoid it.
Shit. Can I call them that? I left and never looked back besides a cursory call to Mom once a year for a proof-of-life check in.
Her and I have an unspoken understanding to not talk about anyone, especially Mason. It’s too damn painful to even think about him after all of the misery I’ve caused.
No, I can’t count myself a part of his life. But it hurts like hell to see the shit that’s been happening.
“Pretty fucked, huh?” Pete claps me on the shoulder before sitting next to me at the long table in his conference room.
He’s grayer in the mustache and his bushy-ass eyebrows than I remember. Yet he still has that subtle smirk like he knows more than anyone else in the room.
I guess we’ve all gotten older. Hell, I’m flirting with forty
“Yea. I almost wish you had called me earlier when the rustlin’ started a couple of years ago.” I pour back over Wade’s notes from the first incident.
It’s strange seeing his handwriting in the margins after growing up with him. He was barely a deputy the last time I saw him.
That was just after that night.
Sometimes it feels like yesterday.
My fingers stroke the scars on my jaw as I flip to the pictures of dead cows. “This is at Taylor’s ranch? Why are they in with the Black Gulch file?”
“Look at the brand, Cade.” Pete lets out a sigh and settles into the leather-backed chair. “Mason was helping them catch up on debts and they temporarily sold out the herd. In fact, I have a meeting with Wade this afternoon about the person who was hired to do that.”
“Where is—” I know I saw that name. Digging through the later part of the file, I run across it again. “Elena Evans being held. I want to talk to her.”
“She’s at his place under house arrest.” One of his brows raise along with the corner of his mouth.
“What? Why in the fuck when she did this?” My index jabs into the glossy print of blood running from the nose of a dead Holstein.
Pete shakes his head. “She’s been cooperative and led us to who we think is behind it. Max Simmons.”
“Shit,” I bark out reflexively. “Now I know why I’m here,” I grumble. “I always knew that asshole would be trouble. What about the other Simmons? He was even worse.”
“Matt? Wade shot him after he attacked his ex-wife and burned her house down.” Pete leans back, narrowing his bright blue eyes at me. “She’s married to Dixon now.”
I choke on air and shake my head. “Dixon who? You sure ain’t talking about my brother.” I can’t imagine that gruff bastard ever even smiling at someone.
Pete nods. “They had twins just a couple of months ago.”
Holy fuck.
My mouth slacks, staring at him. Why didn’t Mom tell me?
It’s my own fault. I was adamant that I didn’t want to know.
“Jesus, Cade. Don’t tell me I know your own damn family better than you do?” He glowers at me, then stands. “Hold on.”
After disappearing into his office, he comes back with a bottle of top shelf whiskey and two glasses. “You’re gonna need a drink for this one.”
He’s silent as he pours me three fingers and pushes it to me. “Go on.”
I don’t partake often, but if Pete thinks I need it…
Damn, it burns good.
“Okay, what is it?” I set my empty onto the oak table.
“Mason’s remarried too,” he says quietly, watching my face intently. “They have two little ones also.”
I feel as if I’ve been punched in the gut. That alcohol rolls into an acidic lump of bile rising in my throat.
“You’ve got to be joking?” I don’t want to believe it.
I want to suffer in the knowledge that everything I walked away from was because of the misery I caused. Am I still torturing myself despite him moving on?
It was my fault his wife was killed and I’ll never forgive myself for it. But she wasn’t the only one who died.
My fiance did too.
Ruefully, I stare down at the faceted crystal as if it’s to blame for my piss-poor decision almost thirteen years ago.
In a strange way, I’m glad Mason found love again. He deserves it.
And rightfully, I haven’t.
As the whiskey starts to burn through my limbs, I get the sinking feeling that I’m living like a ghost on the fringes.
Still paying penance for my sins, yet lingering due to unfinished business.
Maybe that’s why I’m here?
This is my chance to atone.