by Kennedy Fox
“You better stop it, Jackson Bishop,” Kiera tells me, but her eyes say otherwise. She’s enjoying this just as much as I am. The stolen glances are almost too much for even me to handle. Kiera steps close, and she’s laughing.
“I’ve been kicking your ass at games since we were five. What makes you think this’ll be any different?” she asks with a tinge of attitude, but her smile is big and genuine.
“Oh really? Is that a dare? You know how I feel about that game,” I warn her playfully. She’s openly flirting with me, and it gives me all the hope in the world that maybe she and Trent aren’t doing as great as everyone says, and we’ll eventually have a chance together. I realize Mila and John are watching us and pretend to go toward Mila to get her rings.
“Don’t even think about laying a pinky on her or I’ll break all your fingers off,” John warns with a smile, but I really don’t think he’s joking.
I turn back to Kiera, who’s watching me intently. I look at her from head to toe, lingering on all her curves—her hips, her flat stomach, perky breasts—until my eyes trail over her lips and finally meet her eyes that are watching me. I basically just imagined her completely naked, sitting on my face, and by the way she’s looking at me, she noticed.
I walk closer to her, standing only inches from her body. “Emily’s sure gonna make a beautiful…”
She flips her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, acting like a priss. “You’re not tricking me out of this prize.” Kiera reaches out and places her hand on my chest, and I’m half tempted to grab her and kiss her right here in front of everyone. If I would’ve taken a few shots before drinking all these mimosas being served, I just might have. I’m not drunk enough for that yet, though. Before she removes her hand from me, Trent walks up behind her, and I hear him whisper the word ‘wedding’ in Kiera’s ear. She lights up, knowing she’s about to get another ring. I’m fucking livid that he ruined our moment, but never in my life would I have imagined what he does next.
The rest happens so fucking fast that my head spins. Trent drops to one knee, gives this cliché ass speech that I’m pretty sure was ripped off from a movie and asks Kiera to marry him. People crowd around the happy couple, and I watch as she covers her mouth with her hands. My heart shatters into a million pieces when she says yes. At that moment, as he slides the ring on her finger, I feel like the biggest fucking idiot in the world for allowing her to get away. Regardless if I’ve always felt like I didn’t have a chance, I didn’t even try.
My hands are balled tightly into fists, and I don’t even notice until my fingernails cut into my palm. I feel as if my entire world is crumbling, and I can barely breathe. It was never supposed to be like this, especially at my own fucking brother’s party. Rude as fuck. I shake my head, thinking about how she deserves someone better than him, better than this, a special engagement, not riding off my brother’s coattail. I’m furious, and I want to strangle Trent.
As more people fill in to congratulate Kiera, I take a few steps back, needing to find my escape as quickly as possible. As I stand there in a daze, John walks up to me. It’s as if my soul called out to him, or he knows I’m five seconds away from pulling Trent into a choke hold in front of the entire town.
“Are you okay?” he asks. He looks at me with sad eyes.
“Is he fucking kidding? It’s rude and tacky to propose during someone else's party. Kiera deserves better than that. I should go over there and punch his pretty boy face in.” My voice cracks, and I know my emotions are getting the best of me. I see nothing but red, but all I feel is sadness and pain. I don’t know how I’m ever going to get over this.
John squeezes my shoulder and gives me the comfort I need right now. “Emily knew and even helped with the plan.”
I feel so betrayed.
I can’t even really explain it.
I know they’re best friends, and Emily wants the best for Kiera, but it just seems wrong to me on so many levels.
I meet John’s eyes, and I feel like I’m suffocating in the room as I watch everyone crowd her and hear Kiera’s voice in the distance. “I need to get some fresh air.”
“Want me to come with you?” he offers, but I really need to get the fuck out of here before I make a scene and embarrass myself and my family.
“Nah. I need some space right now.” I look over at Kiera and take a mental snapshot of how happy she is as she shows everyone the rock he gave her. I slowly let out a breath, knowing I could never give her that—knowing that she was never mine, and we were never meant to be. Not able to be there any longer, I head straight toward the door and walk across the parking lot.
Once I’m in my truck, I slam my fist against the steering wheel so many times that my knuckles throb in pain, and some disturbing thought inside me tells me I deserve to see her happy with someone else.
As the anger rocks through me, I start the truck and drive around for hours. John keeps calling me, and I keep ignoring him. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just want to be in my head for once so I can work out how I feel. Eventually, before it gets dark, I drive out to the spot on the ranch where Kiera and I used to drink whiskey and bullshit after school. We used to steal bales of hay and stack them around an old ring firepit I took from the ranch hand quarters. All that’s left in the ring is dust these days. I sit there for almost an hour staring at nothing, thinking about her.
I’m a damn fool. I’m a goddamn fool. She could never love you anyway, the negative voice in my head keeps repeating, and I just want it to shut up.
I think back to all the times I almost told her how I felt. All the chances I had to get it all out there. Now, she’s marrying that asshole. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to get her pregnant as soon as he can before she realizes what a fucking snake in the grass he really is. I don’t trust him, and so help me God, if he ever hurts her, he’s a dead man.
I’m tempted to go home first and grab a bottle of whiskey, but considering my state of mind, I wouldn’t be able to drive back. Once the sun goes down, I decide I want some interaction, so I drive to a little private members bar tucked in one of the side streets in town.
As soon as I walk in and plop down on the barstool, the bartender Kandi greets me with a beer. The room is dark and old-time rock and roll plays in the background. It’s a place where an older crowd hangs out, and if Mama knew I was in here, she’d bust in and pull me out by my ear because nothing but trouble parties here. Right now, I am in trouble.
“Why so sad?” Kandi leans over, giving me the perfect view of her big, fake tits. She sticks out her lower lip and pretends to pout. She’s at least fifteen years older than me but still looks good for her age. Though I hate to admit it now, I’ve slept with her in the past. She was a good fuck, but I can’t say I’ve had a bad one. I’ve always heard the only way to get over one woman is to crawl in bed with another. No one has ever been able to fuck Kiera out of my head, and I doubt anyone ever will.
She gives me shot after shot after I explain it’s woman trouble. She offers to take me home with her, and I consider it, but I’ve found it’s best to only be with someone once. More than that and they get attached, regardless if I tell them I’m not looking for anything other than sex. They always turn into crazy stalkers, or maybe I don’t have the best luck. These days, I’m dodging more women in the grocery store than I’d like to admit and pretending I’m John when it doesn’t work. I’ve got his personality down to a T. Definite perks of being a twin.
Just as I’m almost willing to give in to Kandi’s flirtatious advances, a tall, skinny blonde walks in. At first, I think of Kiera and force myself to push her out of my mind. The woman sits right next to me at the bar, and I smile. She smiles back. Soon we’re flirting, and I almost ask her to go back to my truck, until a man sits beside her. At this point, I’m too fucking drunk to care, and the flirting continues.
“Hey asshole, keep your dick in your pants. This is my woman,” he warns in a gruff tone, leaning across the bar toward
me.
I roll my eyes at him and continue talking to her, not paying him any attention. The next thing I know, he’s standing up and tapping me on my shoulder. I rise to my feet and meet him eye to eye.
“You need to back the fuck down before I beat your ass,” he tells me.
All I do is laugh in his face. “I don’t think a little bitch like you could beat anything—not even your little pecker.”
When he notices the woman holding back her laughter, he rears his fist back and punches me right in the face. That’s when I lose control. Screams echo, and I hear Kandi calling the police when the guy picks up a barstool and tries to hit me with it, but misses. The guy hurries to grab a beer bottle and cracks it on the edge of the bar before he grazes my arm with it, causing a long scrape. I might’ve had way too much to drink, but all the anger I’ve been harboring all day releases. I feel no pain as I slam my fist into his face while imagining it’s Trent. It takes three older guys to pull me off the dumbass. Blood drips from my busted lip, and I’m gonna be so fucking pissed if he blacked my eye, which I can already feel is starting to swell.
The guy stands up just as two police officers and the deputy sheriff walk in. I roll my eyes and whisper under my breath when I see Deputy Pettigrew walk in with his big handlebar mustache and an ego the size of Texas. I am literally fucked because I know he’s gonna tell Mama I was fighting in a bar she’s warned me not to enter since I was sixteen. And, unfortunately for me, I don’t know how to shut the fuck up when I’ve been drinking.
“What the hell happened here?” Deputy Pettigrew looks around at the mess in the bar. There’s broken glass, knocked over barstools, and Kandi, who’s glaring at the two of us like we deserve to be arrested.
“That dumbass decided to punch me in the face,” I tell him. Pettigrew narrows his eyes at me in disbelief that the other guy threw the first punch. The deputy used to catch me and Tanner doing stupid shit when we were teenagers, and ever since the cow tipping incident, he’s made it his mission to make my life hell. So far, he’s succeeded.
The guy starts yelling nonsense across the bar. “He hit me first. He threw the first punch. I was just defending myself.”
I’m ready to beat his ass all over again. “He’s lying, Pettigrew. He’s a fucking liar.”
“You need to calm down, Bishop. And quit all that cursing in front of women. It’s rude, and I know your mama taught you better than that.”
My face goes hot when he mentions Mama. Yep. The whole town is going to know about this before the sun rises tomorrow.
The guy continues yelling. “He sexually assaulted my girlfriend.”
And that’s when I lose it again. I take off running, breaking free from the two guys holding me back and charge at the guy. My body slams against his, and we both fall to the ground, throwing punches all over again.
Almost immediately, the two of us are taken into custody. Pettigrew shakes his head at me after he roughly cuffs me. He gives me the stinkiest ass look before he walks over to Kandi, who I hope will tell him the truth.
I’m half tempted to head butt this dumbass standing close to me, but luckily, there’s a rookie officer keeping us separated. The alcohol swims through my body, and I don’t feel anything other than annoyed. I was having a good time until this dick decided he didn’t want anyone talking to his girlfriend. Not my fault she was more interested in me than him. I watch the blonde talk to Pettigrew, too, and I assume he takes a statement from her. Once they’re done speaking, the woman walks up to us and slaps her boyfriend across the face. This only causes me to burst out into laughter.
“That’s for being over controlling,” she says. They have a heated exchange, and it ends with her breaking up with him, which makes me laugh even harder. I can see he’s boiling in anger, and even more so when she walks over to me and slips a piece of paper in my front pocket. “Call me.”
I give her a smirk. “I will as soon as I get out of these cuffs, darlin’.” I wink just to piss the guy off even more.
She glares back at her now ex-boyfriend and walks out of the door.
He leans over, trying to break free, and the cop tells him to stop.
“I’m going to kill you,” he tells me, and I can’t stop laughing. I am not scared of this guy one bit, and if I were out of these cuffs, I’d beat his face in until tomorrow. There’s too much aggression inside me to give a shit about the consequences.
Eventually, Pettigrew comes over to us.
“So I’ve gotten everyone’s statements, and it looks like you’re going to jail, buddy,” he tells the guy.
“Don’t be sad. You might actually get some prison pussy tonight,” I tell him, and he lurches toward me again. Pettigrew places his hand on the guy's shoulders to stop him.
“If you don’t shut the hell up, Bishop, you’ll be riding along with us,” he warns.
“Oh okay. Yes, sir. I’ll shut up like a good boy, the way you want me to.” I should stop, but when I start drinking, it’s like my mouth brings on a personality of its own.
“Bishop, you’re making me lose my goddamn patience,” Pettigrew warns, turning toward me.
“It’s not the only thing you’ve lost over the years.” I raise my brows and glance up at his thinning hairline, and I know this pisses him off more than anything else.
“Son. Shut your fucking mouth.”
“No can do.” I really want to, but I think it might physically hurt me if I don’t have the last word with him. “Maybe you should watch your mouth in front of the ladies.” The words continue flowing from my mouth, and I’m unable to stop, knowing it drives him crazy.
Pettigrew releases a deep, gruntal moan. “He’s coming along too,” he tells the rookie officer. I can’t remember his name because he’s so much younger than me, but he shakes his head and leads me outside.
“Why didn’t you just keep your mouth closed?” he asks me as he’s walking me to the car.
The more I walk, the more I feel the alcohol. Drinking that much was a really bad idea. “Because the old man needs someone to push his buttons every once in a while. He’s been riding my ass for over a decade.”
I see his name badge says Fawkes as he steps out of the way to place me in the back of the patrol car. “He wasn’t going to bring you in, though.”
I laugh. “Well, then I guess I’ll have time to think about it in jail.”
He nods. “You’ll have plenty of time, Bishop.”
As we drive to the police station, I fall asleep. My eyes are heavy, and the alcohol has taken over. When I wake up, I’m slightly confused as to where I am until I feel the handcuffs and am pulled out of the car and booked into the jail. They stick me in a room so I can sober up, and after a while, they let me call someone. I stand at the phone for a long time wondering who’d be the best person to get me out, and the only person I know who can keep a secret is John, or at least that’s my drunk logic for calling him. I don’t even know what time it is, but when I hear his voice, I know it’s late.
“John?”
“Yeah? What’s up?” His voice is heavy with sleep, and I feel guilty for waking him up for this, especially when he has a baby at home.
I try to think about what I’m going to say. Clearing my throat, I lower my voice. “I need you to bail me out of jail.”
There’s worry in his voice, and it’s probably because I’ve ignored his calls and texts all day. “What? Are you okay?” I don’t answer him, and he asks again. “What happened?”
I let out a deep breath. “I’ll tell you when you get here. Just promise you won’t tell Mama.”
After hanging up, I’m escorted back to my holding cell. I kick my feet up on the bench and fall asleep.
Sometime later, I’m being woken up by the sounds of the door unlocking. An officer escorts me down a long hallway, and I have to sign some paperwork. On the other side of the door, I look at my brother as he looks me over.
“You look like shit. What the hell happened?” he asks as we wal
k outside and cross the parking lot.
“Bar fight at Silver Spur,” I explain, my head already pounding. “Pettigrew threw me in jail.”
John starts laughing. “You told me not to tell Mama, but if Pettigrew picked you up, you’re already fucked.”
I groan as I hop in the passenger seat and buckle up. “How much do I owe you for bailing me out?”
John cranks the truck. “Nothing. Apparently, you were only being detained for being intoxicated. You should be happy Pettigrew dropped you off. Might’ve gotten a ticket or something otherwise.”
I lean my head against the cool window and close my eyes.
“If you look like this, I hate to see what the other guy looks like,” John says, shaking his head. As the alcohol wears off, my face begins to pound. I drop the visor in the truck to look in the mirror and squint as the bright light shines back.
“Fuck,” I mumble and slap it back up. A busted lip and a black eye; there’s no way I’m going to be able to cover this up. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep as John drives us back to the ranch. At least I got the distraction I was begging for.
Chapter Seven
Kiera
I’m a nervous wreck getting ready for Emily and Evan’s bridal shower, especially since I’m her maid of honor, and I want everything to be perfect. She’s finally getting her fairy-tale wedding to her real-life Romeo, and the thought alone makes me smile. We’ve all come so far over the past few years.
I slip on a navy dress that falls right above my knees, and it shows enough cleavage not to be too revealing while still hugging my curves in all the right places. Spring is in full effect, and the weather is perfect today.
As I’m putting on some dangly earrings, Trent comes up behind me and kisses my neck. I lean into him, wishing we had more time to spend together. I look at him over my shoulder and see he’s dressed in a nice button-up shirt and black slacks. I turn in his arms and pull him closer to me, giving him a proper kiss.