I nod before dashing into my room to put on my boots and collect my helmet. I’ve just slipped my feet into my riding boots when a shadow darkens the doorway of my room that smells like Slater and me combined. It’s an odd blend, but undeniably addictive.
“I’ll drive you to school later today,” states a male voice from the doorway.
When I lift my gaze, I spot Dylan leaning against my doorjamb.“It’s okay. Slater is taking me back.”
Once I finish tying the laces on my boots, I jump off my bed and attempt to skirt past Dylan. I say “attempt” because he steps to the side, blocking my exit from the room.
“I know why you're doing this. Why you're with someone likehim.” He spits out “him” as if it’s a batch of fresh vomit. “But enough is enough. We get you don’t want to be a rancher’s wife, but you're taking this shit too far.”
When I attempt to sidestep him, he grabs my wrist hard enough to leave a bruise. “Let me go!”
After yanking my wrist out of his grip, I gallop down the stairs. When I hop off the bottom step, I crash into the solid chest of my teeming-with-anger father. “Dylan will take you back to school.”
I shake my head so fiercely, tears fall down my face. Slater is outside on his bike waiting for me.
“If you walk out that door, you walk out it for good,” my dad warns, his voice a deep snarl.
My eyes snap to his, certain he’s bluffing. He’s my father, my own flesh and blood, yet he wants me to pick between him and the man I love.
“Peter.” My mom strolls toward us, her eyes pleading. “She’s our daughter; please don’t do this.”
“No, Mary. I will not allow someone likethatto be a part of our family.” He nudges his head to Slater during the “that” part of his comment.
My eyes rocket to my mom. Hers expose her devastation. She’s as upset as me.
“I love him.”
She nods, understanding I have no choice but also disappointed it’s come to this. Tears slip down her cheeks when I throw my arms around her neck. “I love you. I willalwayslove you.”
Ignoring my dad’s warning for me to choose wisely, I hug my mom for the final time, spin on my heels, then bolt out of the house as quickly as my quivering legs can take me. Slater’s brows furrow when he notices me rushing toward him. No amount of fake smiling will hide the wetness careening down my face.
“Are you okay?” Unlike my father’s vicious words, Slater’s are crammed with worry.
I nod before hooking my leg over his bike. I curl my arms around his waist, then brace my cheek on his back, signaling for him to go. He squeezes my hand before kicking over his bike and slowly gliding it down my parents’ long, dusty driveway. My mom’s tear-stained face watches us the entire time.
Once we’re on the main road, Slater adjusts his mirror so he can see my face. When he spots the tears still streaming down my pale cheeks, he pulls over. I lie and tell him I’m crying about leaving Misty, and that I’m upset I won’t see her again for weeks. He chuckles before offering to bring me back to see her every weekend. That in itself proves I made the right decision choosing him. I’d always chose him, even knowing it might be the last time I’d speak to my family. . .
“I haven’t seen my family since the day we left the ranch.”
Slater remains quiet as his eyes drift over my face. I don’t need to tell him why. He’s been judged enough in his life, he already understands.
“When I left the cabin, Melanie took me in when I had nowhere else to go.”
I’ll be forever grateful to her for the day I turned up on her doorstep with nothing but an overnight bag and a bucket load of guilt. Even though we’d never met in person, she welcomed me into her home with open arms. We faced our darkest days together, and I truly don’t believe I’d be here today if she hadn’t been at my side.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kylie
Los Angeles
“Are you okay?” Emily rushes into the bathroom to pull down the wad of toilet paper stuffed under my nose. When she notices the blood gushing out, she grabs a roll of toilet paper out of the stall so I can replace my soaked-through one. “What happened?”
“Just some excited fans.”
I could give her a more detailed explanation, but she doesn’t need one. She knows how eager the fans get when the band is in the vicinity. When Marcus and Noah walked by the holding room, and a group of twenty women got frazzled by their presence, they charged for them. I tried to stop them. I received a harsh elbow to my nose for my efforts. I nearly retaliated with an equal amount of violence, but the blood pouring from my nose stopped me.
Emily waits for my bleeding to taper before pacing to the bathroom door she only entered five minutes ago. “I’ll arrange for someone to take you to the hospital—”
