by Lexie Ray
“I know things are never finished,” I admitted, quietly. I could at least give her that. I lived that reality every time I shut my eyes and tried to sleep. “But I’m finished with it. I can’t do it anymore.”
“You don’t get to choose that,” she hissed. “You’re not the one he’s after — yet.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s because you’re not listening to me.”
She rummaged around in a small bag on her shoulder until she found what she was looking for and held it out to me not-quite-triumphantly. It was more of a quiet resignation, proving some point she wasn’t even sure she wanted to make.
I knew one thing for sure — I didn’t want to take the piece of paper she was holding. I remembered the kinds of things people could find on a paper, remembered the words addressed to me in the same slanted font.
“He left this for me,” she said. “Right on my pillow. That’s how I know he’s back.”
Of its own volition, my hand took the paper and unfolded it.
“You’re the one who got away, but not for long,” it read.
That was it. No other markings of either kind on the front or back of the page. It wasn’t signed, which wasn’t completely typical, but I’d have known that handwriting anywhere. It didn’t have to say anything else. Oscar Green was menacingly succinct, apparently having mastered the art of saying everything he needed to say with the fewest words possible.
“And now you know he’s back, too,” Amelia said, reluctant to take the piece of paper back from me. I couldn’t hold it any longer, and barely restrained myself from grabbing her bag and stuffing it back in there. What did it even mean to me that Oscar Green was back? Why was this my problem? I’d done what I could when I was still on the police force in Dallas, and had nearly been killed in the process.
“Go to the police if you’re so worried,” I said, holding the paper out so that she finally took it. “I’m not a detective anymore. I don’t do that. I’m a rancher.”
“You’re the only one who got even close to him.”
“And paid the price,” I said, looking balefully at her. “I had to leave my job because I couldn’t do it anymore after that.” I’d recovered from the bullet wounds, but it had been my mind that gave me the biggest problem.
“You have to help me,” Amelia said, but I shook my head.
“I don’t do that. I’m not that person anymore.” I was surprised that she had even found me, that she even knew my name. We hadn’t ever even met after the incident. There had been talks from higher-ups in the Dallas police about having some kind of ceremony introducing the only surviving victim of a prolific serial killer to the cop who had saved her, some kind of public relations stunt, but I was out of it by then, back home on the ranch nursing a number of injuries both visible and invisible.
“You are the only one—” she tried again, but I cut her off viciously.
“You have so many options, but I’m not going to be one of them. Contact the police. Move across the country — across the world for all I care. I’m not some knight in shining armor.” I wasn’t. That wasn’t who I had been even when I was a cop. I’d pursued this case because it had been assigned to me, not because I wanted fame or glory. I didn’t get either, after it was all said and done. There was some kind of awards ceremony that I didn’t give enough of a shit to attend, but the outcome hadn’t been worth any kind of reward.
“Please. Please. I’ll do … I’ll do whatever you want. Anything. I’m not above begging. I’ll do everything you want. Just don’t turn me down. Please. I can’t do this again.”
“I can’t do this again, either.” And that was just the bald, honest truth. I wasn’t a hero. I didn’t want to be one, either. All I wanted to do was stay as far away from this as I could.
“Is everything all right?”
Chance had strolled into the room without either of us realizing it, and it burned my ass. This was just typical. I lost track of everything else when faced with Amelia Banks and everything whirling around her. A truck probably could’ve crashed through the front window and I wouldn’t have noticed it unless it hit me, personally.
“No,” Amelia said.
“Everything is just fine,” I corrected. “She was just leaving.”
“Don’t you dare — I won’t leave. I’m not leaving.” Her lips had peeled back from her teeth in a way I’d only seen in panicked dogs, a grimace, a baring of teeth in abject terror. “You can’t send me away. Please, sir.” She grabbed at Chance’s hand. “Don’t let him send me away.”
“What is this all about, Tucker?” Chance asked, looking at me.
And then I did something ugly. Something I couldn’t believe I was capable of.
“This woman is trespassing,” I said smoothly, easing back into my no-nonsense cop demeanor like it was a jacket I could zip on and off of myself. “Looks like at some point during my time on the Dallas police force I was responsible for putting her away. From what I can understand from her ranting, she’s been recently released and is looking for a little revenge.”
Amelia flew at me, raining down a flurry of fists on me with enough force that I was prompted to capture her wrists. She’d gotten strong over the years, or I’d gotten soft, or maybe she’d always been this strong. We’d both been strong enough to survive something that should’ve killed us. I guessed that required a significant amount of strength to begin with.
“You son of a bitch,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut, shaking her head back and forth rapidly. “You son of a fucking bitch. I told you he was back, and I wasn’t joking. You saw the note. Why won’t you believe me?”
“What is she talking about?” Chance asked, bewildered. “Who’s back?”
She twisted out of my grasp with a skill I realized belatedly she had to have learned at a self-defense course, and turned back to Chance.
“I’m Amelia Banks,” she said. “Detective Corbin saved my life from a serial killer years ago. The killer was never caught, and now he’s back. Oscar Green is back.”
Hearing the name made me flinch, a reaction that I was certain Chance noted.
“I don’t remember the particulars of Ms. Banks’ case, but I do recall her being something of a problem,” I said in an attempt to deflect my brother’s attention. It seemed weak even to my own ears. “A few screws loose, if you know what I mean.”
“Tucker, enough.” Chance glared at me. “I don’t live under a rock, you know. Oscar Green — that name means something to Texans. I remember when that happened. You’re my brother. I care about what happens to you. You don’t really think I just accepted your stories about needing a break from police work, did you? You had three goddamn bullet holes in you, for Christ’s sake.”
“I don’t know what she wants from me,” I said, throwing my hands up in the air, careful to direct my words to my brother. I could hardly even look at Amelia without the danger of smelling wet earth, the feeling of it loose all around me, ready to swallow me whole. I didn’t want to go back to that place, not while I was awake and could control the direction of my mind. I went there helplessly at night, but I refused to do it now.
“I want your help,” Amelia said, and I noticed I’d driven her to the point of tears. Her gray eyes shimmered with them, and if it had been any other woman asking me to do anything else — including walking on fire, sprouting wings and flying, or some other impossible task — I would’ve done it. In a heartbeat. But this was Amelia Banks. And it was everything I’d run away from Dallas and the police force to escape.
“And I told her I don’t do that anymore,” I said, exasperated and still directing the words at Chance.
“You don’t help people anymore?” he asked, frowning. “I don’t think that’s true. You help people all the time because it’s the right thing to do.”
“She’s asking me to do police work,” I said, gesturing violently at Amelia. I couldn’t even say her name without choking on it. “I’m not a cop anymor
e. The thing’s she’s talking about needs to be taken up with a police department. People with resources and assault rifles and a salary aimed at getting them to do that type of shit. I’m out of the game. I’m out of it for good. There isn’t a single thing I can do for this woman. She came to the wrong place.”
“All I need is somewhere to hide,” she said, beseeching Chance, once she realized, rightly, that he was the one who really held her fate in his hands, not me. The understanding made me burn with anger. I’d tried to turn her away, but Chance was overruling me already by simply allowing her to speak.
“We’re not really in the business of hiding people here,” he said. “But we do have an extra room for people to stay as they’re passing through.”
“I would just be here until everything blows over, until he gets caught or killed,” she jabbered earnestly. “I could pay rent, or work, or both. I told Detective — I told Tucker here that I would do anything if I could just stay.”
“She can’t stay,” I said, raising my voice, like that might make an impression on my older brother. I knew it wouldn’t. I was just running out of options. “You don’t know a single thing about her, about the situation.”
“We didn’t know Hadley very well when she moved in,” Chance said, placid. “Same with Zoe and Toby. But that all worked out, didn’t it?”
“That’s different,” I said. “Hadley wasn’t running from anything.”
Chance smiled. “It’s my understanding she was running from some things. Everyone usually is. And Zoe certainly was running.”
“Nothing like what this woman’s running from,” I said. “You take on a significant risk if you let her stay here.”
But Chance wasn’t through making his point, the prick. He was insufferable sometimes. “You know, we probably knew too much about Peyton, but that didn’t hurt anyone when she came to live here.”
“Peyton’s harmless,” I protested.
“You can’t really be suggesting that Amelia here is going to hurt anyone,” Chance scoffed.
“I would never hurt anyone,” she cut in quickly. “Ever. I only want to help. I would do anything, learn to do anything. I don’t know a lot about ranching, but I’m a quick study. I don’t care if I’m shoveling shit out of stalls or whatever. I won’t be any trouble. You’ll never even notice me.”
I knew that wasn’t true. I knew that I would feel her presence acutely, be unable to focus with her in the house. This wasn’t happening. I couldn’t allow this to happen.
“This isn’t your decision,” I told Chance, my face hot with anger and despair. “Other people live here, too, you know. People who would be affected by this.”
I mainly meant myself, but my older brother got a thoughtful look on his face.
“You’re right. Other people do live here.”
I waited for him to finish whatever thought was trundling through his head, but he didn’t.
“So that’s why it would make sense to not do this to them,” I said, suspicious but cautiously relieved that Chance might be open to listening to reason for once. Amelia wilted a little, and I suddenly became more confident in my victory.
“What makes sense is that we’re not going to turn Amelia away in her time of need,” Chance finally said, his voice not even entertaining the idea of argument. Amelia wilted even more, but this time it was in utter relief.
“Thank you so much,” she said, pressing her hands together, looking like she wanted to go to hug Chance but not being sure just how welcome her touch would be. “You don’t understand what this means to me. This has saved my life. It really has.”
“This family keeps growing bigger,” he said. “We would never turn our backs on someone who needed help.” He looked at me meaningfully, but I was already striding out the door. I couldn’t believe this was happening, and I could believe Chance’s actions even less. He thought he knew about Oscar Green and the things that had precipitated my departure from the police force, but he had no idea what I had gone through — what Amelia had gone through.
And he had no idea what he was inviting on himself.
I walked without direction, with only the desire to get out of there, to shake myself free from the specter of Amelia and the irresistible feeling that my nightmares were taking corporeal form and becoming my reality. The ranch had helped get me back on my feet after everything that had happened, but now I felt like I was in danger of slipping away again. That’s what Amelia’s presence had done to me. I felt like I was losing my mind and slipping back into that dangerous place I had found myself in following my physical recovery. My mind never wanted me to relive those experiences, but my subconscious didn’t give a shit, seeking to entertain me on a nightly basis with images and retellings and examinations of Oscar Green.
I didn’t want that past to invade my present any more than it already had. I couldn’t stand the idea of Amelia living with us. I was afraid it would make me really lose my mind this time and not be able to find my way back. The ranch had served as a refuge, a sanctuary from the horrors I’d seen. Amelia pierced the veil of that and reminded me of just the caliber of madness I’d been running from all this time.
A buzz in my pocket made me jump and curse. I’d walked all the way out to the highway, directionless, and there wasn’t a car in sight.
It was a text from Chance, sent to me and all my brothers.
“I’m calling a family meeting,” it read. “Please drop whatever you’re doing and report to the house. It’s important.”
I scoffed, my fingers poised over the keys to respond. I was certain that it wasn’t important, and that the family meeting was nothing more than a guise to get me back in the house to deal with whatever Amelia had to say. I briefly entertained the notion of walking into town and seeing what kind of trouble I could get myself into, but remembered Avery admitting once that it had taken him all night to achieve the same feat. The ranch was quite a ways from civilization, if the town could even be referred to as civilization.
My phone buzzed again. This time, it was just a text to me from Chance.
“Need you here,” it read. “Immediately.”
I was all the way up at the highway. There wasn’t going to be anything immediate about my arrival.
“You can say whatever you want to say to the rest of them,” I typed back. “I’ve already said all I’m going to.”
I thought that would shut him up, but Chance persisted.
“It’s an emergency,” his message read. “About the ranch.”
My heart leapt to my throat. What could’ve happened in the short time I’d been away? I ran through all sorts of scenarios in my mind. I whirled around and looked at the land that stretched out in front of me. There wasn’t any smoke rising from the horizon, which meant I could rule out wildfire. That was a real concern this summer, with how dry the drought had left everything. Perhaps it was another cattle theft attempt, though it wasn’t yet completely dark. That would be atypical, but not unheard of. I strained my ears but couldn’t discern any gunshots echoing across the plains. This was a ranch, though, and the thing that any rancher knew intimately was just how quickly everything could go to hell.
I started walking fast, back in the direction of the house, then quickened my pace to a jog. Maybe someone had become sick or gotten injured, though Chance would’ve been more likely to tell us all to head to the hospital or the site of the incident.
A terrible thought wormed its way into my head. What if Amelia was right about Oscar Green being back? What if he had followed her out here, to the ranch, and something was happening right now at the house?
With a sickening lurch, I broke out into a full sprint.
I fully expected sirens at my back, the pathetic police force on their way to help my family, but I didn’t hear anything, yet. Maybe they hadn’t had a chance to dial 9-1-1. It was a ludicrous thought that Chance would’ve texted me and neglected to at least give the authorities a clue about what was going on, but I was well beyond
reason. I’d suffered a pretty terrible shock earlier, and now I was afraid that my family was in trouble and I was powerless to help them.
I was winded when I was within sight of the house, but I forced myself to run even faster. There weren’t any outward signs of a problem, but I’d entered enough crime scenes in picturesque settings to know better than to judge a book by its cover.
I should’ve known better, should’ve slowed down and tried to assess the situation, but I was too panicked to remember any of my training. Instead, I burst into the front door and charged into the house, too winded to bellow out for my brothers.
I didn’t need to, though.
Everyone was gathered in the front room, waiting for me quietly.
Perfectly composed.
The only emergency was the one going on inside my own brain, the one I had Amelia Banks to thank for.
Chapter 3
I tried to force myself to be calm, tried every breathing exercise I knew, but my heart still thumped wildly out of control, filled with rage and fear and emotions I couldn’t quite give names to. Seeing Amelia sitting in the middle of my loved ones drove it home that she was here to stay — for as long as it took for her insecurities to blow over or for the cops and the feds and whoever else was in on it this time to track Green down and capture or kill him.
And whether I liked it or not, my entire family was about to find out the particulars of my time in the police force.
“Hey, find a seat somewhere,” Chance said, noticing me at the doorway. “We’ll get started.”
“I thought this was a meeting about the ranch,” I said hesitantly, looking around at everyone assembled.
“It is,” he confirmed.
“Then why is … she here?” I’d tried to say her name. I really had. But Amelia Banks wasn’t something that just rolled off the tongue for me. I didn’t know if it would ever be a name I could just toss around without that wet earth smell, the panic of its looseness, my blood mingling with it.