by Em Petrova
He tore his hand free. “That’s not true. And I refuse to believe anything you’re telling me, because I know what your source is—Moon.”
Staring at him, she hoped he saw the light. Through her eyes. He had to see.
“Does it matter where I got the information? There’s evidence against him, Dad. A DNA match as well as photographic evidence he was there at the crime scene. The bottom line is Trent’s in trouble and we need to support him in a way that’s actually helpful to him. He’s facing a lot of prison time for these crimes, and that means you believing his tales won’t matter. He needs another kind of support now.”
“Dammit, Kinsey—”
She grabbed his hand back and clutched on tight. “No. Dammit, Dad. Momma wouldn’t want this. You have to think of that. She wouldn’t want our family to be so broken. I understand you’re angry with me for who I love—”
“Love?” he practically roared.
Steeling herself against his anger, she nodded with all the conviction of her love in her body. “Yes, love. I love Asher. And he told me he loves me too. He’s not a bad guy, Daddy, and I wish you’d give him a chance. He had such a rough childhood, and he doesn’t need more assumptions about his character from you. But if you can’t accept him, I understand. We will keep our distance. But please know this isn’t my choice. I want my family back, in whatever makeshift, scabbed together fashion we can be right now. I want to keep living…and I think it’s time you want that too.”
His chest inflated as he dragged in a deep breath. She released his hand and sat back on her heels to gaze at him. After several long moments, he didn’t move or speak, so she took that as her cue that he required some time and space in order to process what she’d said.
She only hoped her words convinced him that no matter how ugly the truths of their family right now—that her momma wasn’t coming back and Trent would be locked away for a long time—she and her father had to keep living.
As she walked out of his house, she found she could breathe easier than she had in months. Now it’s time for me to start truly living…with the man I love.
Chapter Eleven
Asher dumped some feed into one of the horse boxes and turned for the next. When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he cussed and set down his bucket. Why did people always call when he was working?
He stuck the finger of his glove in his teeth and yanked it off and then dug in his jeans for his phone. “Moon.”
“Glad I caught ya. This is Radosh.”
“What’s up?”
“Freeman’s been tryin’ to get hold of you.”
“I don’t have any other calls, not even at the house.”
“Well, maybe he has the wrong number. But he’s seen signs of coyote on his property and thought you’d better have a look.”
“Give me his number and I’ll call him.” He listened to Radosh relay the phone number and then thanked him and hung up.
Then he dialed Freeman. When he answered, Asher said, “It’s Moon. You’re lookin’ for me?”
“Yeah, I found some sign up here.”
Asher mentally mapped out the location of Freeman’s ranch, right on the other side of the mountain. Very woodsy in that area.
“Tracks near the trees?” he asked the man.
“No—cutting right across my property. Tracks lead to my back yard where my kids play.”
“Damn. That ain’t good. All right, let me finish feedin’ the horses here and then I’ll be over.”
“’Preciate it.”
After he ended the call, Asher shook his head and lifted the bucket again. Tracks to pigpens or chicken coops were one thing—but to a back yard? Clearly, things weren’t getting better, despite culling several from the pack.
He finished his work and reached for his phone again. This time he dialed Kinsey. Her phone went to voicemail. Damn—he didn’t want to do this without her. She’d want to be with him.
He tried a second time, and this time he left a message. Standing out back of the barn, he gazed over the Moon Ranch. Hell, when had things changed so much around here? He’d been so far into his own head lately that he hadn’t noticed the improvements his brothers made—some that he helped execute. Fresh wood on the barn and several pens. Fencing updated and solid. The house stuck out to him most—gone was the peeling paint and downtrodden appearance that always made him want to run away from home before he even got through the door to deal with his old man.
With their father dead, life had improved. Not the easiest thing to admit, yet to move forward, he must. Long ago, they all agreed Dad caused most of their troubles, and the day he’d learned he was gone, Asher felt free for the first time.
He glanced at the porch steps. They might be updated, but the structure was the same—just like the structure of his being.
His father hurled him down those steps when Asher tried to help him off the floor. Asher couldn’t have been more than six, not nearly strong enough to heft a man of their father’s size. When he’d dropped his dad’s shoulders, his head bounced off the floor, and he’d woken in a rage.
More dark memories flooded in, and finally Asher turned from the house. They were all here still, riding on the wind, even if the place looked different and his old man was six feet under.
That familiar urge to get in his car and drive as far away from Stokes as possible burned like a comet streaking through the sky. He could go—nothing held him here.
Except Kinsey.
Would she leave with him?
A hand on his shoulder jolted him. Shaking himself, he looked around at Zayden.
“Man…you okay? You had a horrible look on your face.”
Asher pulled off his hat and rubbed his fingers through his hair. “Was just remembering things from when we were kids.”
Zayden nodded. “I know those moments well. But this ain’t the same place anymore.”
“I know.” Not only did it look different, but the ranch held good memories too—of his brothers, Mimi…and even Kinsey.
“Don’t let that shit get in your head, Ash. Time to let them go.”
Though he gave a nod in response, he didn’t quite feel it.
Zayden went into the house, leaving Asher to stare after him. Why did this melancholy hit today? He hoped it left him soon. Since his return, things hadn’t exactly been paradise, but he’d been happier than he had in ages.
He called Kinsey one more time and didn’t reach her. Cussing, he climbed into his car and headed toward Freemans’. But that meant going through Stokes first and circling the mountain, so he’d stop by Kinsey’s place on the way. His mind played over more memories—both good and bad. Then he caught sight of her Jeep parked in front of a house.
He quickly pulled off the road in front of the small house where her car was parked in the driveway. A glance at the mailbox showed him the name Reynolds.
Her father’s house?
It took all of three seconds for Asher to decide to get out and walk up to the door. He might be looking at the end of a shotgun when her father opened the door, but he needed Kinsey.
After he rapped on the door, he listened for movement within. When the door opened, he half expected to see Kinsey standing before him, but he faced her father instead.
The man stood slightly shorter than he did, with slumped shoulders that might be broad if he stood up straight. But Asher knew the weight of the world rested on them. The man sported messy gray hair that needed a cutting, and his plaid shirt looked as if he’d pulled it out of a laundry basket.
“Hello, Mr. Reynolds. I’m—”
“What do you want?” he cut him off.
Asher had enough experience dealing with dicks from his enforcement years, but he had no desire to treat this man with the response he would anybody else who spoke to him in that manner.
He leveled his stare at the man. “I’m looking for Kinsey. I see her Jeep’s here—”
“She left.”
Asher glanced over his sh
oulder.
He filled the doorway more completely with his frame. “She ain’t in there. She left, I said.”
“Could you tell me where she went without her vehicle?”
“On a date. Guy picked her up about half hour ago.”
For a moment, Asher couldn’t process the words. Date and Kinsey didn’t belong in the same sentence together.
“What do you mean?”
“She left with a guy. He picked her up from here. I told ya. Now get the hell off my property, Moon, before I introduce you to my friend here.” He withdrew a ball bat and held it across his chest.
Asher’s mind reeled. Kinsey on a date. That didn’t make any sense.
“Who did she leave with?”
“Big guy. Dunno his name. Her friend hooked her up with him.”
“Her friend Kelly?”
“Yeah, Kelly. Now get the hell out of here.” Gripping the bat, he glared at Asher.
Without a word, he turned and went down the sidewalk and got behind the wheel of his car. He drove off, but he had no recollection of starting the engine.
Kinsey…what the hell? She couldn’t have really left on a date that Kelly arranged. Could she?
Maybe she decided you’re really a no-good Moon.
She didn’t want to see it before, but she’d woken to the facts that had been staring her in the face the whole time—he wasn’t worth her time. When he’d confessed he loved her, that had been the true eye opener. And he’d been a fool to trust her with his feelings.
“Goddammit!” He punched the dash. The satisfying pain radiating through his knuckles and hand to his arm didn’t begin to mask the one spreading through his heart.
He spotted the neon sign of the bar, his dad’s old hangout, and before he made the conscious decision, he whipped into the parking lot.
When he walked in, the bartender looked up. “Moon. Haven’t seen your ugly face in a while.”
He sank to a stool. “Whiskey double.”
“Gettin’ an early start, I see.”
“Yeah, run a tab.” He pulled out his wallet and slapped several bills on the bar top.
How long since he had a drop of alcohol? Too long. He curled his fingers around the glass the bartender set before him and raised it to his lips. The strong scent curled in his nostrils, bringing a flood of memories with it.
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the alcohol down his throat. As it burned all the way to his stomach, it also wiped out a bit of that ache for Kinsey.
Why did he need a woman anyhow?
He held up his glass, and the bartender poured him another two fingers’ worth. Asher raised his glass. “Fuck love.”
The bartender nodded. “Fuck love.”
As the next shot slid past his throat, Kinsey’s beautiful face flashed in his mind’s eye. Her sandy blonde hair escaping the ponytail she wore on a daily basis for work along with her ugly uniform that concealed all those gorgeous curves from everybody but him.
Not everyone. Not anymore.
At this moment, she might be in another man’s arms. Hell, he could be between her legs.
“Another.” Asher smacked his glass down.
“Better pace yourself.” The bartender poured him more whiskey regardless.
“I’m aimin’ to get drunk.”
“Just slow it down. I don’t want to shut you off in five minutes, Moon.”
He nodded and curled his fingers around his glass. This time he sipped more slowly, but the effects of the alcohol burned through his brain, leaving him that much less hurt by Kinsey turning away from him.
Long into the day, he continued to drink. Fuck it all. Fuck the old man, the ranch and especially women.
“Damn, how long’s he been here?” His brother’s voice sounded from behind. He twisted on the barstool to see not only Dane standing there but Zayden too. The disapproval on their faces sent prickles of irritation running over Asher.
“Fuck you too,” he said to them.
“All right, man. Let’s go. Can you walk?”
“’Course I can fuckin’ walk. Been sneakin’ whiskey since I could untwist a cap.”
“Get him outta here,” the bartender told his brothers.
They reached for him, and he shook them off.
“Damn, I hope I never have to haul your drunk ass out of a bar again, Ash.” Dane clamped a hand on his shoulder to guide him through the door.
When he stepped outside to see the sun sinking lower in the sky, he suddenly remembered long ago Freeman expected him.
“Shit. I gotta go see Freeman.”
“What the hell for?” Zayden had him by the other shoulder, steering him across the parking lot to his truck.
“My car’s that way.” He pointed.
“Yeah, it is. And you aren’t drivin’. Get in the damn truck, Ash.” Zayden and Dane shoved him through the back door. A second later, he heard Dane say, “We got him.”
“Got who? Me?” Asher could always hold his whiskey, and now that the fresh air had struck his face, his mind cleared some.
“She’ll meet us at home,” Dane said to Zayden, who started the truck.
Asher clutched the seat to remain upright. Maybe he’d had a few too many, but that didn’t mean he didn’t understand what his brothers said. “Are you talkin’ about Mimi?”
“No. Kinsey,” Dane said.
His heart flexed hard at the sound of her name…a name that he’d tried his damn best to lock out of his head and heart. “I don’t want Kinsey around. She fuckin’ left me.”
“What?” Dane exchanged a look with Zayden and then twisted in the seat to look at Asher. “What happened?”
“She went on a date. Probably fucked him on the first date too.”
“Jesus Christ. She didn’t say anything to Brennah about a date when she called the house looking for him,” Dane said to Zayden.
“Who the hell knows—he’s probably too drunk to think straight.”
“I’m not too drunk. I went to her dad’s and he told me the truth.”
“Okay, man, just calm down,” Dane said.
Minutes later, Asher gripped the door handle. “Stop. I gotta—”
He barely pushed out the words before the truck careened off the roadside and Dane whipped his door open. Asher toppled to the ground, hit his knees and let loose. The retching lasted far too long. How much had he actually drank? Not enough to switch off his brain and forget the woman he loved.
“Fuck, you’re disgusting, bro. Don’t step in it. Shit. Get in the truck, Asher.” Dane’s stern voice permeated the fog in his head. Dane shoved him into the truck, and they continued the drive.
When someone opened his door again, he looked up. He must have passed out, because Kinsey’s face wavered before his eyes, and he slammed them shut to keep from seeing her.
“Damn… How long’s he been this way?” Her voice too. Just stop. He couldn’t hear her voice anymore.
“Bartender said he’d been at the bar for hours. No, don’t touch him, Kinsey. I think he puked on himself.”
“Oh God,” she said faintly.
Jesus Christ, his brothers’ hands were like vises locked on his upper arms as they yanked him out of the truck.
“I’ll run ahead and turn on the cold shower.” Kinsey again. Go away.
“Nah, we got somethin’ better.” His brothers hauled him across the yard, and he stumbled between them, propelled to the fence. When the cold water hit his face and washed up over his head, his eyes popped open. He was staring at the bottom of the water trough.
With all his strength, he shoved upright. Tearing free of his brothers’ hold, he staggered and looked around.
Fucking ranch. He hated this place.
Then his gaze landed on Kinsey. His chest burned with a roar he couldn’t force past his lips.
“Asher, what the hell did you do to yourself? Why were you drinking?” She loomed up before him and took hold of his shoulders. Her image distorted, breaking into two faces an
d then four before merging into one face. Kinsey’s face.
“You. I was drinkin’ because of you.”
“Me? Why?”
He started to walk away from her, wishing he was steadier on his feet.
“Hold it right there, Moon!” She appeared in front of him again.
“Go away, woman. We’re through.”
“What are you saying?” Her voice broke, and then she tried again. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Not drunk enough to forget you were on a date. Did you fuck him?”
“Fuck who? Asher, I was working. Who would I even go on a date with?”
“Big guy who came to pick you up from your father’s.” He sidestepped her, proud he managed the maneuver without falling on his face.
She grasped his arm, stopping him. “I wasn’t on a date, you idiot man! Cody picked me up—my partner? Remember that I worked today? I was visiting my dad to tell him I was sorry for how we’d left things the day before, when I received a call about an elk hit by a car. It wasn’t dead, so we called Brennah.” She looked around. “Where’s Brennah? She can tell him.”
“I don’t need your excuses, and I don’t care who you get to lie for you, Kinsey. Fact is, you deserve someone better than me, a fucked up, no good Moon. I can’t even hold down a job anymore. I fucked up and got a woman killed.”
“Asher, listen to me. You’re not thinking straight. Sit here.”
When had he made it to the front porch? He collapsed onto the step and cradled his head in his hands.
Some of the alcoholic haze washed from his system, enough for him to wonder again how the hell he’d go on without Kinsey.
Or why he’d sunk to the same low as his old man.
“Here. Drink this.” A cup was thrust into his hand, and he gripped it. The strong, hot coffee broke through his haze even more. When he focused his stare on the woman who’d handed it to him, remorse flooded in. “I’m sorry, Mimi. I’m an asshole.”
“Shush now. Just drink.”
He did. Moments later, Kinsey looked into his eyes again. Her face crumpled, and he realized he’d sent her into a crying fit.