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“Fucking Christ,” I muttered. I looked to the bunkhouse to see the boys emerging. This wasn’t the first time this bitch has made a scene.
I got about two feet from her and stopped, planting my boots. “What are you doing here, Cathy?”
“We gotta talk,” she said slowly.
“You driving drunk?”
She shook her head. “No. I want Caleb to come home with me tonight,” she said, wobbling on her feet.
“You aren’t getting anywhere near my son with that much alcohol in your system,” I said. Mags and Jigs were coming up the hill now and Cathy’s focus shifted from me to Mags.
“Hey, big boy,” she purred.
“Rather fuck a cactus, sugar,” Mags said before looking at me. “She drive here like this?”
I nodded once.
“Cathy, you need to leave,” Jigs said softly. Part of me wanted to hate him for treating her so nicely, but a few years back, I brought it up. He told me she was the mother of Pop’s grandchild, that because of her, the family grew, and for that, she would be treated with respect—even if she didn’t deserve it.
“I want my boy,” she spat, ignoring Jigs’ kindness.
“No,” I growled.
“I want my boy!”
“You are three sheets to the fucking wind, Cathy! Jesus fucking Christ,” I barked and threw a handout to her car. “It’s a miracle you even made it out this far.”
“I have things to discuss with my son,” she slurred.
I adjusted my hat. “Two options, woman. Number one, you let Jigs take you home. Number two, I’ll call the sheriff. He’ll nail your ass for drunk driving and then you’ll lose custody of Caleb.”
She snapped her cheap lipstick covered mouth shut, glaring at me.
“Don’t test me,” I clipped.
“It’s Saturday night, Denver,” she stated, as if that was reason enough to be hammered and driving.
“Don’t give a shit what day it is, Cathy. Jigs will drive you home.”
“I hate you,” she spat at me.
I closed the space in between us, glaring down at her, venom sinking into my blood. “Good, bitch. I fucking hate you, too.”
“That’s enough,” Jigs said, putting his old, weathered hand on Cathy’s arm. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
My nostrils flared as I watched them walk away.
“That woman is a snake.”
Mags.
I turned to him, finding his dark eyes on Cathy.
“No shit,” I deadpanned, looking back to the house, wondering how in the fuck something so good came out of a woman like that.
“Kings.”
I looked back to Mags. Even though we didn’t serve together, we were both Marines. That made us brothers. We had shared a lot over whiskey and campfires since he came to Hallow Ranch, war stories and such. I trusted this man with my life. So, when he held my eyes and said, “Something isn’t right.”
