Page 19

All because of Granger Hale.

Not content with letting my uncle or Warren take temporary custody, Granger used his power to bribe a judge to place River, Ezra, and Wells with foster families who hurt children. In one of the cruelest piece-of-shit moves, he hid their location from us.

It was six months of chaos as Warren and I tried to sort out our parents’ will and fight like hell to become our brothers’ guardians.

We only found them thanks to Aurora, Granger’s daughter. A person who’s decidedly not cut from the same cloth as the rest of the Hales.

Warren and I might butt heads at times, but we share one thing in common.

The need to protect our brothers.

With every breath in our bodies.

I look down at the scar on my right palm. One we all share.

From that night. That night that changed our world.

Breaking the silence, Warren’s deep voice booms, “Let’s use the whiskey.” He glances around the room, and when he gets murmurs of assent from each of us, he lifts his glass. “To Mom and Dad.”

“To Mom and Dad,” we all echo. Each of us has a memory playing out across our face. Mine: my parents at my first rodeo. Their proud smiles stretched the heart in my chest so wide it felt like light was living inside it.

As we all finish off our whiskey, I shift my gaze back to the deep scar on my palm.

No more light. Not anymore.

4 Delilah

Sleep. Glorious, glorious sleep.

Then, the shrill cry of a rooster. Cue murderous, murderous thoughts.

“Go away,” I mutter at the sunshine breaking through the blinds. Burying my face in the pillow, I lift an arm like I can shoo away the noise. I could sleep a thousand more hours. But apparently, nature won’t let me.

My hundred-pound eyelids fight to open. I blink at the strange surroundings. The room slowly comes into focus as my memory comes back to me.

Sammy. Dead.

Highway. Panic attack.

Cute guy. Creek House.

I groan, then pry myself off the bed. Bare feet hitting the floor, I stand and head to the bathroom to pee. After, I examine my cheek in the mirror, then I feed Ratson. His cage sits on the kitchenette counter. He squeaks as I drop in his kibble, then rolls happily in his bed of wood chips.

His beautiful black eyes stare up at me.

“I love you.” It’s just him and me in this new life, for however long. “Can I be a rat with you? And have rat worries?” Ratson squeaks and gnaws at his kibble.

My phone chimes from its place on the skinny bedside nightstand tucked beneath a window.

I swipe it up and climb back into bed.

A text from Melly. A flurry of emotions and emoji.

Lili! Where are you??? Everyone’s freaking the fuck out.

Montana. But don’t tell anyone.

Yeehaw, Lady Lawless going back to her roots!!! Kiss a cowboy for me.