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Atticus also ensured me the new sheriff, Calvin Walsher, is there for me if I need anything. Calvin used to be a part of Atticus’ motorcycle club but has accepted the job to become the new sheriff of our town.
Atticus mentioned something about Calvin wanting to step away from the club due to his four-year-old son he’s raising by himself and wanted the regular job without the added ranch life to create more stability for the both of them. Plus, Calvin grew up in this town and wanted the same for his son.
“What’s going on, Calvin?” I ask, wanting him to cut to the chase.
Cassia’s soft voice slides in from my left. “Henrick was married.”
“What?” I whisper.
“Yeah, the fucker wasn’t just a nutjob, he was a cheater along with it. But get this, his wife is–”
“Woman, zip those lush lips shut and let me do my damn job,” Calvin snaps.
Cassia shoots him a deadly glare and smacks her flat hand on the table in front of her. “Stop calling parts of my body lush.” She raises her hand and her eyes go to the table and to her fingers she’s clenching and unclenching. “Oh, yikes what is this? Your table is sticky.”
She jumps away from the table and heads for the sink to grab a cloth and wets it before rubbing down the sticky surface.
“We had pancakes…must be the syrup,” I mindlessly reply, knowing Cassia hates everything that’s sticky.
Calvin shakes his head and ignores Cassia and her worry about stickiness, I’m sure as a single dad of a young child he’s seen worse.
“Henrick was indeed married,” Calvin says. “Alma caused a scene when she was with her husband’s attorney. She trashed his office and the police were called in. Atticus receives updates when it’s linked to Henrick in any way and we were alerted about this incident. We did some research and this morning Atticus obtained a search warrant. Alma wasn’t at home but they did find a load of evidence to issue a warrant for her arrest.”
He falls silent, probably wanting me to catch my breath because my lungs feel like they’re burning. I swallow hard and take some air into my body through my nose. I stare down at my lap and watch as Perry’s hand moves to mine, softly engulfing it into his warm but gentle grip.
“What kind of evidence?” I ask when I’ve finally found my voice.
“The camera Henrick installed into the room he renovated at the clubhouse wasn’t the first one. He’s done it multiple times and we suspect his wife was the one editing the footage and selling parts on the dark web.”
“What?” I croak as static starts to flow through my brain.
I’m sure I didn’t understand it correctly because if I did? There must be footage of me floating around on the dark web. Is there? From Henrick using my body without my knowledge? His wife selling it? Oh, God. I can’t breathe.
“See what you fucking did, you tactless dick?” I faintly hear Cassia’s voice as she grips my shoulder and gives me a firm shake. “Ramona, look at me. Alma didn’t know about you, okay? Henrick, that sick fuck, kept you all to himself. That’s why she flipped and made a scene at the lawyer’s office. Calm down, sweetie. He never recorded any footage of you.”
I mindlessly nod and try to process everything. That’s good, right? I mean, in a twisted universe I might be considered lucky. Insane. Crazy. My throat is dry and I’m still not able to catch my breath.
I shove my chair back and croak, “Excuse me, I need some fresh air.”
I don’t wait for a reply but rush out the back door and start to gasp for my next breath when strong arms whirl me around to pull me against a hard chest.
“Breathe, darlin’. There’s little you can do right fucking now but you can do this, hear me?” Perry’s voice rumbles through his chest as I bury my fists into his shirt and pull myself closer.
Through months of texting with this man and spending a day with him it seems I’ve built myself a safety net I suddenly feel at ease to fall back on. Because enveloped by his scent and his soothing voice rumbling through me, I feel my body start to calm down and I’m able to breathe again.
“There you go,” Perry whispers. “You want to go check on Melba and the foal? I guess we have to start thinking about giving the foal a name, huh?”
I glance around Perry to see Cassia and Calvin arguing in the kitchen.
Stepping away from Perry, I give him half a smile. “Yes, let’s check on the horses. And you are the one who needs to name the first mare of the bloodline you’re starting.”
“I suck at thinking up names. We don’t want to end up calling her Harry, right?” He raises his eyebrow and I shove his shoulder.
“Do better. Harry is a dude’s name. Harriette is more like it, but you have to think about it. Hey, why don’t you google Frisian names? Something nice will pop up, I’m sure,” I suggest as we stroll toward the stables.
“See? We’re already helping each other,” Perry remarks, and I couldn’t agree more.
I was feeling like I was being strangled a moment ago and it was Perry who swooped in and loosened the grip, allowing me to breathe again. Another confirmation I can trust him to help me get through this and put my life back on track.
