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She looks like forever now.
Like, if I can undo the bindings of the past, the mother of my children.
My eyes shut and against my eyelids I see our entire future laid out. Sons, maybe a daughter, running free on Sovereign Mountain. My name and hers together on the deed to our ranch. Hot summer breeze coming through the open window at night while I fuck her beneath the quilt after the children are asleep.
My throat closes.
A long time ago, the Garrison family took that dream from me. They broke my heart and my pride and as good as killed my parents. At their hand, I tasted grief before I had a chance to become a man.
They tried to break me, to erase my name all because my father did what was right and defended his wife. It’s time to close that chapter.
I am the only son of the Sovereign line and their death is my birthright.
I waited long enough.
It’s time for retribution.
“Jack,” I say, my voice quiet. “This is your expertise, but it’s my blood to spill. We do it together.”
He knows what they did to me. He knows how long I’ve waited for justice. There’s a short silence and then he gets his hat.
“Let’s go kill some Garrisons.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
KEIRA
I cry again after Gerard leaves. There’s a sense of foreboding in my chest and I tell myself it’s just the oncoming snowstorm. In the evening, I creep down the hall and push open the game room balcony. I’m wearing the sweatsuit from my first night at Sovereign Mountain. It smells like him because it was in his dresser drawer, folded with his things.
The sky is black. Snow starts to swirl, but I know the storm won’t hit until tomorrow at noon.
The feel of it on the wind reminds me of being a girl. The world was simple then, and I looked forward to storms because I never had to go out into them. I’d wait by the fire for my father to burst through the door, covered in ice and snow. Chilly from putting the horses to bed.
My eyes sting.
I never really had time to grieve for my father. But in the last several weeks, some of that sadness has tugged at the edges of my mind. Maybe because I feel safe now, safe enough to stop masking everything.
My feet are numb by the time I stumble back into the bedroom. All the papers that fell earlier are still in a heap on the ground. I flick on the fireplace and pad over to clean them up, but the memory of his reaction to the card stops me short.
I shiver. There are so many secrets at Sovereign Mountain that sometimes I wonder if I really know anything at all.
But I do know one thing for certain—he said he loves me.
I want to believe him.
He has nothing to gain from me. He already has my ranch in the palm of his hand. I’m drained dry by Clint’s debt. I’m powerless against him and that’s my saving grace.
Clint used me, but Gerard can’t do the same because I have nothing left to take.
After his confession, I know he never intended on it.
My eyes are wet again as I sink down to my knees to clean up the papers. It’s just a bunch of shit. Weeks and months I wasted with Clint right here on the floor at my feet. Receipts, faded bills, folders of paperwork. I wish I could stuff it all into the fireplace and watch it go up in a blaze.
I gather it all up and shove it back into the box and go to slam the lid.
There’s a plastic folder wedged in the corner. Something about it draws me in, so I pull it free and flip it over.
Last Will & Testament.
