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“I’m sorry.” He surprises me with what comes out his mouth.
“You're sorry? What ya sorry for?”
“For how all this is. We can’t kill Walker, we can’t kill Mason senior or his son. All those fuckers should be dead and I feel like I’m the reason that they ain’t,” he confesses.
“You really think that?” I shake my head. “Garrett, those three babies upstairs sleepin’ are the future of this ranch, you need to be here for them to ensure they grow up knowin’ what all this is about.”
“You ever wonder what itisall about?” he asks, sounding deflated.
“If you’re lookin’ for a pep talk right now, bro, I ain’t the one to give it. But I can tell ya this, we’ve been through just about everything that can happen to a family, and yet we’ve always stuck together. We’ve always figured it out, and we’ll figure this too. Those men will die, and we’ll be the ones who serve justice.”
“And in the meantime?” Garrett looks up at me.
“In the meantime, we do whatever it takes.” I slide my rifle higher on my shoulder and pick my sleeping bag back up off the floor.
“This place is beautiful, darling.” Mom looks impressed as she stares out at the view from the balcony window.
“Yeah, it’s real pretty.” I fake a smile when she turns back around to face me, but I know it won’t be fooling my sister. She keeps staring at me like she can see through the makeup I’ve put on to hide my bruise.
“Why don’t you head downstairs and tell the men we’ll be down in a minute?” Mom dismisses her, before sitting on my bed and tapping the mattress beside her.
“Come on, time for some real talk.” I wonder if Mom might have noticed it too. I’m no makeup expert, I’m sure the yellowish-green mark is still noticeable through the foundation I’ve put on. Maybe, subconsciously, I wanted her to notice it.
“Have you had any signs?” She lowers her voice to a whisper.
“Signs? Signs of what?”
“Pregnancy, of course.” She laughs at me, making me feel like I’m the only person living in the real world.
“No, Mom, it’s barely been a month since the wedding, and besides—”
“Besides what?” Her face suddenly turns stern on me.
“Mom, I’m not ready for kids. I’m so young. I… I never asked for this marriage. I don’t love him.” I lower my tone to a whisper.
“My dear, sweet girl, when are you going to stop believing in fairy tales?” Mom shakes her head at me like I’m deluded. “Look at all that you have and all that you will gain. The Masons have money, you wouldn’t have to look after the child yourself. You’ll have a nanny.” She dabs her fingers on my cheek to stop the tears that fall and smiles at me.
“Make sure you touch up that makeup before you go back downstairs, darling, it’s not nice for your father to see.” Standing back up from the bed, she starts moving toward the door and the sudden surge of anger I feel has me calling after her.
“How could it not bother you? You see it, you know he did that to me. I’m your daughter, how can you not care?” I stand up and let her see all the tears that flow from my eyes now. “I am raped. Every. Fucking. Night. He’s taken away my phone and all my contacts, I’m pretty sure there’s a tracker on my fucking car. I am living in hell.”
“Well, this isn’t a bad version of it, is it, sweetheart?” She looks around my lavish bedroom and smiles before turning around and heading back out.
* * *
I do as she said and fix my makeup before joining everyone downstairs. I haven’t seen my sister since the wedding, and I have a feeling I won’t get another opportunity for a while, so I’m determined to make the most of the time we do have. We chat in the garden while Caleb talks to Dad and cooks some steaks on the grill. It’s incredible how he can be so different, acting like the doting husband and pretending that we live here in marital bliss.
“Shall I get more margaritas?” Karina picks up the empty pitcher, and Caleb immediately takes it from her hands, insisting that she sit down, and asking Dad to watch the steaks while he does it himself. She proves she sees right through his performance, rolling her eyes at him behind his back as he walks into the house. Then while Mom and Dad discuss the architecture, she leans in and whispers to me.
“Did he fucking hit you?”
“No.” I shake my head and avoid eye contact.
“You're so full of crap.” She folds her arms, looking pissed at me.
“Karina, listen I—”
“Did you know Wade’s back in town?” she cuts me off.
