“You … you can’t take her,” Elise slurred as she sat up from the couch.
“The last thing I want to do is take her from her mother, but you’re failing her, Lis. Things can’t go on like this, and unless you want me to get social services involved, you’re going to have to let me take her.” I had no idea how calm I was sounding when I wanted to put my fist through the wall.
Junior hovered at her side, whispering something into her ear, but I wasn’t going to wait to hear what either of them had to say. I needed to leave before they both decided to put up a fight and this got ugly. I wasn’t going to subject Penn to that shit. She deserved better than that. I knew all too well what it felt like growing up in this type of household.
I scooped up her boots at the door and marched out to the truck. Penn clung to my neck, looking back over my shoulder at her mother. My heart continued to break while my body vibrated with rage. I quickly buckled Penn in her booster and shut the door.
Junior stepped out onto the front porch right as I was about to get behind the wheel.
“Pull a gun on me again, and you can say goodbye to your little slut,” he said from the front porch.
“What the fuck did you say?” I halted my boot on the running board. My hand gripped the door handle, keeping myself in place. Otherwise, I was about to march back over there and get in this dude’s face. I was squeezing so hard, my knuckles cracked.
“You heard me. Pull a gun on me again, and Lina Larsen will see the end of mine.”
“Get her name out of your fucking mouth,” I gritted out between my teeth.
Junior’s lips curled, knowing he struck a chord. Fuck him!
“It’s about time. One less Larsen to deal with sounds good to me.”
“Go anywhere near Lina, my daughter, or the ranch, and you’ll wish you were dead.”
I didn’t want to hear any more of his shit. One more word from him, and I’d make good on my promise. Climbing into the truck, I slammed the door. I didn’t waste time turning over the engine and backing the hell out of there.
8
lina
“Iwish you could go with me,” I told Dad as we sat in front of the stone fireplace in the big house.
Grandpa built it with his own hands, and I could still see his initials, LL, and my late grandmother’s ML with the date ’64 carved into the wood mantel. The big house had replaced the original homestead, which was now the bunkhouse. One of my favorite things to do on a cool spring evening was to sit in front of the fire and bullshit with Dad while we sipped his favorite Scotch.
“I know, darlin’. I’ll try to come out in a couple weeks, but Reed will keep you safe.”
“Why do you trust him so much?” I shook my head before taking a drink. Letting the heat of the Scottish whisky hit the back of my tongue and then go down smooth.
“He’s a good man. He’s been through a lot. But he works hard, and he’s proven to me, more than once, that he can handle the job.”
“Handle me, you mean?”
Dad’s mustache curved up with a grin, and he kicked his feet up on the leather ottoman. “It’s no secret you don’t like the guy,and you’ve done everything possible to run him off the ranch, yet he’s still here.”
“Un-fucking-fortunately.”
He didn’t know the half of it, and I wasn’t about to tell Dad what went down with Reed and me. I slouched into the couch, wrapping my fingers around my glass, letting it rest on my belly. I already had a feeling this was going to end in a dumpster fire. We hated each other despite the overwhelming sexual tension. We would either end up fighting or fucking, and either option could end in disaster. My intuition was telling me he was going todestroyme. I may be strong, but I didn’t think I could handle that—not after what he did. Not after I believed love at first sight was more than just a fairy tale. Not after my heart was shattered for the first time.
“Plus,” Dad said, taking a swig of his drink. “Your old man has been around a long time, and the way he looks at you tells me I don’t think there is anything you could do to get him to leave you … I mean, this ranch,” he said, chuckling.
I flipped Dad off with a glare, but it only made him laugh harder.
“Some Dad you are. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Dad may trust him, but I certainly didn’t. Granted, I hadn’t really given him a chance to prove himself, either.
He quickly sobered, his smile turning serious. “Darlin’, I’m always on your side.”
Boots stomped up the front steps, interrupting our conversation. We sat up, looking toward the door, before a fist knocked on the solid, hand-carved wood.
