Control (Kenshaw Ranch Book 4)

by Piper Frost

  “Tommy's head.” Bobby reaches for my hair. I laugh at the kid and let him mess it up.

  “Well then. I'm glad it wasn't his head,” Kinlee mumbles, walking over to get a wet rag. “Blood's a bitch to get off the walls.” She throws the rag to Bo and he barely catches it. “Clean it up. And while you're cleaning, one of you two's gonna tell me what the hell had my husband throwing beer bottles at the wall.”

  I glance at Bo and he looks at me, his jaw tight.

  “I came over to talk about Affton,” I blurt.

  Kinlee's eyebrows dip. “What happened?”

  Bo hands her Bobby then gets to work on the beer, not answering, so I guess he wants me to tell the story and suffer Kinlee's wrath now. I take a deep breath and shake my head.

  “Long story short, she came home for the funeral beaten and battered. She wasn't even gonna tell me but I caught her getting out of the shower and—”

  Bo barks out a noise and holds his hand up. ”Bobby,” he says calmly but the look on his face is expressing everything else he's feeling. “Go get daddy your favorite moo.” He waits for Kinlee to put the boy down and when Bobby goes running toward the living room, Bo charges me, but Kinlee grabs him right as I tumble off the stool and take a few steps back. “You said you didn't fuck my sister,” he growls and Kinlee's literally holding him back right now. “You saw her in the shower? What the fuck's goin' on, Tommy?”

  “It’s not like that! I fuckin' promise!”

  “Your sister's allowed to be with whoever she wants, Bo,” Kinlee says calmly.

  “She's married,” he barks back.

  I shake my head. “I... I couldn't do that to her. Not with everything else she's going through.”

  “I'm sorry, she's what now?” She lets go of Bo and he stands up straight, glaring at me.

  “Married. And her husband's the one doing it to her.” I fall into a chair at the table and shake my head. “I’ve known about this for a month. I knew she went back to him. I figured she was getting her life in order to leave him. But she's not responded to me in a month. And I'm starting to get worried.”

  Kinlee's eyes are huge as she tries to process the garbage that spilled from my mouth.

  “Be glad it was the beer, darlin'.” Bo kisses her head then goes back to cleaning.

  “Why... Where is she now? Is she okay? Doesn't she know she can just come home? We'll keep her safe!”

  “It's not that easy. The guy's her boss. And he's threatened her life on multiple occasions from what I gathered. She's scared shitless of him.” I shake my head. “Don't matter though. We're finding her and we're bringing her back here. Whether she likes it or not. Then I’m putting a fuckin' bullet in the guy's brain.”

  Kinlee's brows scrunch together. “Wait, she's married.” She points to me. “But you two...” She cocks her head and smirks. “Usually I wouldn't condone that, but from what you're telling me, her husband isn't much of a man. I can be okay with what I saw.” She shrugs and heads to the sink, rolling her sleeves up. My gaze darts to Bo because he’s glaring at me, probably wondering what she saw. And she didn’t see much at the funeral, just our close proximity. “So when're you going to get her?” She's talking about this like it's no big fucking deal. We're just going to go swoop in and bring the girl home. Simple as that, but I know it won't be. She's going to put up a fight for sure. We're going to need more people than just me and Bo.

  “Now hang on,” Bo speaks up. “What’d you see?”

  “Oh nothin’.” She waves her hand at him and rolls her eyes. “Get to cleanin’, cowboy.”

  “I didn't have sex with her,” I mumble, picking at the label on my beer. “I just...” I curse and stand up. “I need to get home.”

  “Tommy,” Bo blurts and I wait. “This can't be put off anymore. We'll find her.”

  “I know.” I nod. “We will.” I'm not sure how, but it has to happen. I've let it go on way too long.

  The next morning I lie in bed from a night full of tossing and turning. I stared at that computer screen for hours last night, praying to find something but there's a reason I didn't go into investigative work. Past social media, I'm not sure how the fuck to find someone on the internet.

  It dawns on me as I'm in the shower that I do know how to get ahold of her and I'm not sure why I didn't think about it before. Her fucking job. I’ll call the office. They have to forward the call to her! I rush to finish up and don't bother with pants as I run to my phone, scouring the web for her company's phone number.

  It's not like the places here in town where you call a number and a human answers. I go through three rounds of automated assholes before I even hear a real voice.

  “Affton Hart please,” I blurt the minute they start talking.

  “I’m sorry, sir, I can't patch you in to Mrs. Hart.” The guy on the line sounds like I'm asking for a million fucking dollars. I'm so goddamned close my hands are shaking.

  “Then her assistant.” I grin because I remember her assistant from when she responded to me online. I can work with that.

  “Please hold,” the man says, then I sit with hold music for too long. I have work that needs to be done, but this trumps everything on my list today and Brandt will understand why I'm late the minute he finds out the reason.

  “Affton Hart-Bower's office, can I help you?”

  My stomach drops at the name change. It wasn't like that a few weeks ago. I know for a fucking fact it wasn't like that before her trip home, which makes me even more worried this past month has been bad for her. If the man is the same type of boss as he is husband her work life is probably just as much hell as home life is. The thought makes my fist clench around the phone.

  “Hi, is this Diamond?” I only remember her name because she’s named after a rock. I’m really tryin' to put on the southern charm over this phone and I pray it's working.

  The line goes silent for a few minutes and I worry she's hung up. “It is,” she responds with intrigue. “And who's this?” Why does this girl sound like she knows who I am already?

  “My name's Tommy Barns—” before I can continue her squeal of delight comes through the speaker.

  “Oh, honey, where have you been the past few years? Damn, boy. Woo.” She's making all these breathy noises. “I know who you are. We've chatted online briefly, and then I looked into you a lil bit.” It seems she wasn't disappointed at least.

  “Yeah, so...” I chuckle. “I'm prayin' you can help me with somethin' pretty top secret, ma'am.”

  “Oh, honey,” she whispers. “I can't put you through to Affton. She wouldn't take the call anyway.”

  “Why not?” I blurt, clenching my fist again. “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah...” Now she's confused. “Why wouldn't she be okay?”

  “Can I ask how well you know Affton, Diamond?” I don't want to go blurting to her assistant how big of a fuck-wad her husband is. Especially since her husband is also that assistant's boss.

  “I've known her for the past five years. We're close.”

  “So then you know my girl pretty well. And all I want to do is check in on her. I'd like to send her flowers, but her phone must be dead and she isn't responding to my messages.” I bite my lip and wince at that last part. It sounded way too desperate.

  “Mm-mm,” she says with doubt. “That's probably not a good idea, honey. She's a married woman and—” She abruptly stops talking. “Yes, sir, we have the textiles.” I roll my eyes, not having time for this. “Tommy?” she whispers.

  “I just need an address, Diamond. And I'd owe you my life.”

  “I can't do that, honey. I could be fired. I don't know who you are and I get you and Affton had a pact...which...what was that pact?” The grin's back in her tone.

  “That's awfully private, don't you think?” I can't help but smirk. She's not as stupid as I assumed she would be with that name. “Okay, so not an address. I understand and partially respect that. But you see, I'm here with her brother who's very worried about his
sister. And without going into detail, I think you know why. So no address, I get it. But what about neighborhood. Or a picture of her house. Or maybe just have her call me,” I growl out the last, feeling like I'm getting nowhere with this lady and she's just keeping me on the phone to listen to me talk.

  “Tell me the pact and I'll see what I can do. Private info for private info,” she offers and I sigh.

  “Fine,” I blurt. “I made a pact when she was twenty that if when she turned thirty-five and neither of us were married, she'd come home to me. To marry me.” I groan. “Diamond, I've been sitting in hell since the last time she came home and she won't reply to me. I just need to know she's okay. I gotta see her.” I gotta steal her and bring her back here with me, which will probably fuck with your job but I'm not going to tell you that.

  “That's probably because she's married, honey. West and twenty-third,” she blurts.

  “Thank you. Fuck me, thank you so much.” The call ends abruptly and I scribble down the street intersection. Fuck yes! I hop on my bike and speed toward the ranch, praying Bo's there too because we have to get on the fucking road.

  I slide into the driveway almost sideways, dust billowing behind me. Barely having time to kick the stand down, I'm bolting out to the barn.

  “Brandt!” I bellow. “Bo! Garrison!” I search the barn but there's no one here so I head out to the field. “Bo!” I yell, seeing him at one of the old barns at the back of the field.

  “What the hell's all the ruckus? Where you been?” Brandt walks out of the barn and I almost jump out of my boots.

  “Fuck!” I screech. “I found her!”

  “Found who?” He wipes his hands on a rag and shoves it in his pocket.

  Bo's making his way across the field and I feel like I could run the mile in a fucking minute I’m running on so much adrenaline.

  “I found her!” I scream out to him.

  “Who?” Brandt blurts again, hands on his hips as he watches Bo approach.

  “You found her?” Bo asks cautiously. “Alive?”

  “Alive. Well, I think. Maybe not, but definitely at work so she's alive!” I jump in my place. “Come on, let's fucking go. Brandt, get in the fuckin' truck, we're gonna need you.” I look around. “We need more muscle.” My eyes go wide. “We need more guys, what if he's there? You got any guns? Shit, I should have brought my gun.”

  “What the fuck are we talking about?” Brandt yells over me.

  “Affton's in an abusive relationship.” Fuck that's the first time it's come out so easily. Brandt's eyes go wide. “Yeah. He's a dead fucking man. She came home for that funeral bloodied and bruised and the picture I saw on her phone was ten times worse. She's in deep, Brandt.”

  “And you found her?”

  “I did,” I say. “I'm in love with a girl who's getting beat by her husband,” I growl. “We gotta get her out of that house but she's blocking us out and not answering. So I called and sweet-talked her assistant. Who, I think, has a thing for cowboys and is named Diamond.” I'm actually fucking smiling, even though I shouldn't be but I fucking found her!

  “Brandt, I'm sorry, brother, but I have to go get my sister and bring her home,” Bo tells him.

  Brandt scratches his head and glances toward his house. “I’m going too. I'm not letting you two assholes walk into this alone. You can fill me in on the details on the drive. What're we thinking, two, three hours? She's close, right?”

  “Eighteen hour drive there.” I blink and his eyes go wide as he nods.

  “Y’all are gonna drive eighteen hours there, and eighteen hours back? Wh...” He curses. “I'll go break it to Jo and let my dad know. When're we leaving?”

  “Now?” I blurt, glancing at Bo.

  “Where are we going?” Grant says, walking up behind us and fixing his ball cap. “Hey, fields about ready for me?” His eyes flash between the three of us. “What's going on, guys?”

  I groan, throwing my hands behind my neck. I never told him the story because retelling it is more painful each time. He’s gonna be upset, but he’ll get over it.

  “Affton's in danger. We're driving to save her. Tonight. Right? Tonight?” I look at Bo again who's glaring at the grass.

  “I'd prefer right this minute.” He looks from Brandt to me.

  “I'll go break it to Jo,” Brandt blurts, jogging off toward the house.

  “Chase will be here soon,” I say, checking my phone.

  “Fuck yeah! Road trip! I got my gun. Do I need my gun?” Grant's expression is too much excitement for this and Bo groans.

  “Matthews, listen, it's my sister. His love interest.” He points to me. “Kenshaw's ex-crush. And Chase...I don't know what role he plays, but there are only five seats. We ain't fillin' them with five men and nowhere to put my sister.”

  “She could sit on my lap.” Grant grins and I slap him as hard as I can on his head.

  “Fucker,” I blurt. “You ain’t comin'. Stay here and man the shop for Chase.”

  He rubs his head. “You guys suck.” He pouts and storms off toward the barn like a scorned child.

  “Let's roll!” Brandt yells, running out his back door just as Chase speeds into the drive.

  Bo storms to the truck on his phone, probably with Kinlee, but we're all ready. We pile in and the cab of this Denali feels ten times smaller with the four of us. The silence is thick until Brandt finally speaks up.

  “You're in love with her?” he asks me and Bo groans.

  All I can do is nod and stare at the road. I'm not sure what it'll be like once we get there. I know she's going to fight us, but I'm sure she'll understand we're all here to keep her safe. She better.

  “Since kids,” I finally mutter.

  “Seriously?” Brandt chuckles. “So when I fingered her in the barn—” Bo hits the brakes so hard it sends Brandt's face into the back of the driver’s seat.

  “Fuck, Hart!” He laughs.

  “I'll gut you, Brandt. I'll fucking gut you.” He reaches back and is wielding a knife. Chase is rolling with laughter while Brandt lunges against the door. “Don't talk about my sister, and don't talk about fingerin' a woman other than your wife.”

  “Oh! The tables have fuckin' turned!” Chase laughs.

  “Everyone fucked Fi, Chase, get over it,” Brandt blurts. Bo takes off, stomping on the gas. “Okay, except for Bo.”

  “I didn't fuck her,” I say, glancing at my phone.

  “I mean she probably set the record for most dudes fucked in this town,” Brandt mumbles, relaxing back in his seat. “Y’all are the only two she wouldn't go near!” He laughs and Chase slugs him in the arm. “Ow! Fuck, Haring, it's a joke, not a dick. Don't take it so hard!”

  The truck whips over and Bo's slamming on the brakes again. Throwing the truck in park, he jumps out and stomps around to Brandt's door. He yanks it open then rips him out. Slamming the door he then gets in the front seat, taking off again. I turn and watch Brandt standing in the road looking after us and eventually Bo stops the truck. Brandt runs up, grabbing the handle but Bo takes off again. We do this three more times before he gets the door open and Bo takes off, but he jumps in at the same time.

  “Kenshaw, play the quiet game,” Bo says.

  “Hell, you're uptight,” Brandt mutters. “Don't worry about your sister, Bo. We'll get her back and we'll kick this guy's ass that's doin’ this to her.” He reaches over and pats his friend's shoulder before sitting back. “This is gonna be a long fuckin' drive if we can't joke around, guys. I’m just sayin’.”

  That it is. We drive in silence for two full hours. I think Chase passed out and Brandt's been playing a game on his phone like a damn kid for the last hour.

  “Tommy, I know the track to California, but I'm gonna need an address in the GPS eventually.” Bo sighs like I'm dense. The guy really is wound up too tight.

  “You know I'm two years older than you, right?” I glance at him. “Don't talk to me like I'm your kid. I’m not stupid, Bo… But I don't have an address
.” I stare out the window to ignore the death glare he's probably giving me right now. “Eyes on the road, Bo.”

  The truck accelerates and I know that's his response instead of ripping me a new one for not completely having my shit together. I did say I found her, and I did...the generalized area.

  “Wait, you don't know where she is? I thought you did know where she is? How the hell do you guys not know where she is? Isn't she mega famous or some hot shit? Shouldn't her address be all over Google?” Brandt rambles.

  I roll my eyes. “You're really sounding like a dumb cowboy right about now, Brandt. People's addresses aren't just plastered online.”

  “Burger King's is,” he mumbles, making a whiny noise like he's mocking me.

  “That's a restaurant!” I bark.

  “Burger King is not a restaurant,” Chase counters. I fuckin' thought he was asleep! “Fast food is not a restaurant. Go to Vegas, boys. Get cultured.” I feel him shift in his seat behind me and his knees hit the back of my seat.

  “Who put the mammoth in the backseat?” I mutter, shaking my head and Bo finally starts laughing.

  “Chase, Vegas is the most American city in America! What the hell are you talking about culture! Y'all are dumb fucks! I've been to strip clubs in Colorado with more culture than Vegas!” Bo claims.

  “Don't talk about other women like that, Bo. Respect your wife,” Brandt says in a tone that I think is supposed to mock Bo's comment from earlier.

  “I do respect my wife. And yours.” He winks back at Brandt. “Tommy, you know I used to date Jo?” Bo starts to laugh again.

  “I guess there wasn't enough pussy to go around this place. When she got here? Y’all fought over her?”

  Brandt barks out a laugh then stops immediately. “Don't fuckin' talk about my wife like that.”

  Chase growls, sitting up. “You guys fuckin' suck. Can't a man sleep!” He shakes his head and flips his hat backwards. “I closed the fuckin' shop for this. Let me fuckin' sleep.”

  “Hey, Haring.” Bo keep glancing from the road to his phone. “Me and Kinlee stumbled upon this the other night. Tell me that doesn't look like Kaydence.” He hands Chase the phone and a second later the sounds of a woman getting plowed blasts through the speakers.