He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other on my thigh, drifting his fingers back and forth in a soothing rhythm.
“I’m not really sure, to be honest.” He sighs. “Does it make me an asshole that I want nothing to do with him? Regardless of the fact we share half of the same DNA, he’s not someone I want around me or especially my family.”
I nod in understanding. “No, it makes you human, Parker.”
“It’s just so fucked, you know?” he grumbles. “All that resentment over a man who wouldn’t have given a shit about him either way. He took that pain that someone else caused and projected it onto me and the people I love. To you. To Trace.”
His hand wraps around my thigh, and he squeezes. I love how he touches me when he’s sharing something he feels strongly about. Like he has to be physically tethered to me to say the words. I love being that for him.
“Do I think he was dealt a crappy hand? Yeah. But there are plenty of people who have been dealt the same hardships and don’t go around manipulating and assaulting people.”
“I know.” I wrap my hand around the top of his. “It’s messed up. It’s unfair. But I don’t want this to get into your head. I know you.” I lean my head on the headrest and face his profile. His nose is slightly crooked. His jaw sharp.He’s beautiful.“None of this is your fault. Don’t take on burdens that were never meant for you to carry.”
He dips his chin, his chest rising with a deep breath. “You know I don’t deserve you, right?”
“Probably not,” I tease.
We pull into the gates of the ranch, Trace still snoring softly in the back seat. When we round the corner, approaching the house, the sight of a sheriff’s SUV has me perching up in my seat.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure.” Parker rolls us next to the marked vehicle. “No one has called. Have they called you?”
I unlock my phone. “No missed calls.”
When our headlights hit the barn, Cooper, Maddox, Ryder, and a man I don’t recognize step out.
“He’s still sleeping.” I peer back at Trace. “Just leave it running.”
We hop out of the truck, meeting at the front of the hood before we walk to the group.
Maddox stands with his hands shoved in his pockets, his expression blank.
“Hey.” We come to a stop. “Everything okay?”
Ryder speaks first. “Parker, Laiken. This is Memphis. He’s the sheriff in King Valley.”
Parker offers his hand, then I follow suit.
“Nice to meet you.” He nods at Parker, then faces me. “Ma’am.”
When the light from the barn hits him, I can see his features clearly. He’s tall. Almost as tall as Ryder. When he shifts slightly to the left, I notice the jagged scar along the edge of his jaw.
“I’m sorry to come out so late. They said you two were out of town but heading back.”
“We didn’t want to deliver the news while you were driving,” Cooper says.
“What news?” I ask.
“I hope you know this is just protocol. But because you’re Ryder’s family, I made sure I was the one to be here,” Memphis says as he pulls out a notepad.
I glance at Parker, noting the confusion on his face.
“I was told you left Tuesday for Wimberly Cove, correct?” Memphis asks.
“Yes. We left Tuesday morning about eight,” I clarify.
“And where did you stay?”
