This is the start of an exit—one that doesn’t require Gage to choose me. This isn’t punishment.
It’s survival.
I can’t force something when the other person isn’t willing to meet me halfway.
The real question is whether I’m ready to follow through.
twenty
Gage
The sound of Sloane’s sedan roaring to life cuts through the yard as I step out of the barn, sharp enough to make me stop short.
I stand in the doorway and watch her back out, Mason already opening the gate like it’s just another task on the list. I don’t move as she pulls onto the road, my boots rooted to the dirt like I’m waiting for something to change.
Letting her go feels easier than asking her to stay—less risky, less exposed. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself, again and again.
What she does with her shares can make or break everything I’ve built—but forcing her into a decision would only make it uglier, and I’m already standing in the fallout.
Whatever this was between us couldn’t stay contained forever. Nothing ever really does.
Mason shuffles up to me with a grin. “Guess since the boss lady’s gone, we can let loose, right?” He’s a kid—doesn’t know when to shut up, or when to read the damn room.
That’s always been my job. Reading the room. Carrying the weight.
“Oh, you think she’s hard on you, huh?” I ask, eyeing him carefully, daring him to answer wrong.
“How about you unload the feed that’s been sitting on the truck bed for over a month.”
His smile slips as the weight of my request sinks in. The feed is heavy. He knows it. That’s why we usually let it sit and unload a little each day—but today, I’m not having it. Today, something has to give.
“Alone?” he asks, hesitating just long enough to piss me off.
“Why?” I say. “You not strong enough to handle a couple of bags?” I’m already done with the conversation and need him moving.
Jesse watches the whole thing unfold from nearby, pretending to stay busy with inventory. He glances up at me, then back at his clipboard, keeping his opinions tohimself—but I know he’s got them, and that only fuels me further.
“You got something to say? Say it.”
Jesse looks up, then shakes his head. “It’s nothin’, Gage.”
He goes back to work, but honestly, I want him to say it—anything at all—so I’ve got something solid to push against. I’m tired of people swallowing their opinions.
I’m tired of this place only running smoothly with Sloane in mind, like I wasn’t holding it together long before she ever showed up.
She’s about to sell her damn shares to the devil, and they still look at her like she’s some walking saint? Nah. That’s not going to fly anymore.
“No,” I say. “Say what you want to say.” I watch him freeze mid-writing before he lets out a long breath.
He looks up under the brim of his hat. “I just think you’re being a little hard on him. I get you had an argument with Miss Carter, but that’s par for the course.”
His words land harder than they should because, despite how little he talks, Jesse’s observant as hell.
He must’ve been close enough to hear Sloane and me earlier, which makes me wonder how much he caught—and whether he was listening on purpose or if I’m just hunting for another excuse to be pissed.
“Did anyone ever tell you to mind your business and not listen in on other people’s conversations?” I ask, stepping toward him, ready to remind him exactly where the line is.
A teasing crack from a young guy is one thing, but a grown-ass man sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong is something else entirely—and I won’t tolerate it.
