Before the gator came to a full stop, Mr. Briscoe jumped out of the utility vehicle, charging toward the other men. Though I shadowed him, I had no idea how I would be of any help. Yet, as soon as we got to the horse’s side, he handed me the gun and knelt. The horse flinched beneath Sal’s knee as Mr. Briscoe examined it.
“Do we know what happened?”
“Preston was out here doing a perimeter check and found her. Broken leg.”
My hesitant gaze skidded over to Preston. There was something about him that caused my skin to crawl. Maybe it was the pointy boots. Maybe it was the wad of tobacco he constantly chewed, then spit wherever he saw fit. Maybe it was the same scars on his knuckles that my father had on his. I hadn’t put my finger on it yet, but I would. A toothpick peeked out of his mouth as he tossed it from side to side with his tongue.
“We’re gonna have to put her down. Joss, go ahead, son while we hold her.”
“What?” I asked stunned by his request.
“Slide the bolt back, then forward. That’ll chamber the shell.”
I knew how to work a fucking gun, but I couldn’t begin to process the request. I didn’t want to kill the horse. Paralyzed in my tracks, Sal glanced up at me.
“Joss?”
My tongue moistened my lips, preparing me to converse, but I had nothing. Of all people, Preston stepped over the horse’s back legs, shuffled over to me and snatched the gun right out of my hands. The sound was just like Mr. Briscoe explained, a slide back, forward… then the shot to the horse’s forehead jarred me to the bone. Not caring what they thought of me, I squeezed my eyes shut and turned back to the gator, returning to my seat. The shot rang in my ears as I tried to shake the sound away with no success.
“I’ll take care of her, Cal. Go back in.” I recognized Sal’s voice.
Mr. Briscoe patted the horse’s neck a couple of times and then grabbed the rifle back from Preston.
“You know you aren’t allowed to touch a firearm. Don’t ever do that again. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Preston added, looking down at his pointy ass boots.
“And this is the second horse hurt on your watch. Don’t let there be a third.”
Mr. Briscoe’s brows pulled together as he got seated once again in the gator.
“I’m sorry, Joss. I shouldn’t have put that on you.”
“No, sir. I’m sorry that I couldn’t… I…”
The gator bounced over the rough terrain. My mind continued to flash to the gun shot. I wished I’d looked away sooner. The image seared in my memories just like Abby’s body flailing about.
“I understand why you couldn’t. It was unfair for me to ask.”
The pool area was still lit when he parked the gator. “Mr. Briscoe, I...”
“It’s Cal, Joss.”
“Cal. I froze. I’m embarrassed about what happened.”
His hand came down on my knee. More of a dismissive pat. “No need to be embarrassed. All part of ranch life. You’ll get used to it. Go get some rest.”
Get used to it? I only had sixteen months left on my sentence. Regardless, I had been dismissed, so I got out and headed back to my quarters. Every night sleep was ready to find me. I just hoped new nightmares didn’t.
_______________
Another exhausting week later, I laid back in the cool leather of the recliner. Mr. Briscoe was right about the hard work I’d put in. Undoubtedly, I worked harder than any man in the penitentiary. Yet, I’d take this God sent gift any day.
Fresh out of the shower, there was no doubt sleep would catch me. The last two months of peaceful nights had been an unexpected bonus to my sentence. Not once had anyone awoken me with threatening shouts or powerful blows.
The flood lights around the pool flashed on, disrupting my peaceful night just like they had the night the horse was put down. This time, two girls in bikinis dashed out of the main house with a squeal, tossing their towels into a chair and laughing as they strolled to the side of the pool. Not long after, two scrawny dudes walked out, tossing their towels, as well. Then one of them ran and jumped into the pool doing a cannon ball. Both girls ducked, holding their hands up and turning their faces away from the onslaught of water with a shriek. Then, in true gentleman fashion, the other douche bag did the exact same thing.
One girl was blonde, the other brunette. I had heard Mr. Briscoe talk occasionally to Keyona about his daughter, Ren, which I assumed was the girl in the pictures on the wall. She was ridiculously beautiful, but this girl was older. Maybe sixteen, seventeen? The girl was like no girl I’d ever seen. The brunette was thicker through the thighs and hips than the blonde, and the brunette had bigger tits. I didn’t think either was Briscoe’s daughter. I’d really begun to appreciate my sleep out here and hoped they didn’t party too long.
I relaxed back into the recliner, trying to once again find sleep, but my ears zoned in on the splashing and screamin. Finally, I conceded that the party was too distracting for me to sleep through, so I watched the show from the large glass windows overlooking the pool. The two guys romped around, clearly ignorant as to how to interact with girls. Clueless. The brunette sat with her legs spread far enough apart for any guy to fit easily between. The blonde seemed more conservative—sitting on the side of the pool with her ankles crossed. When the boys would look her way, she’d flip her longer than shoulder-length hair to hide her face. The pretty blonde hair dusted the upper part of her back.
“Oh, shit!” I laughed to myself as one of the guys skimmed the top of the water with his arm, shooting a wave across the blonde’s face. Just what girls like. Not. What an idiot.
Her lower jaw fell slack as her eyes shot wide before her middle finger came up angrily. Nice… She shot to her feet as the guy tried to grab her, but her wet skin slid away from his grasp. She turned and did a quick tippy-toe number over to her towel. Taller than I first assumed and even though her legs had defined calves and thighs, they were long. Delicately, as if blotting a blister, she dabbed at her face to dry the water running into her eyes. With her back to the pool, she didn’t see the same dickhead sneaking up behind her. In one slick move, his hands snaked around her waist, lifted her tiny body then staggered back to the water. It was a struggle for him, though and she was tiny. What a pussy. She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. Before she knew it, they both went under.
That thick blonde hair seemed darker when she emerged with it matted to her head. I didn’t know her, but the look on her face read pissed off as she gasped for air, shoving away from him and covering her breasts for some reason. Those tan, athletic legs marched up the pool stairs, padded across the concrete and stalked straight toward me.
The door…my door… slammed shut, leaving her standing maybe 10 feet from me. Water pooled at her feet as she reached around her back to untie her bikini top. The curves of her small breasts were visible in the dark. The suit must have nudged up with the water pressure. I didn’t like that my lower half responded to her.
Uncomfortable, I cleared my throat. The room was too dark to see her eyes, but her entire body seemed to tense.
“Who are you?” she asked, cupping her breasts to hide them. Too late.
The temperature in here was cold. Freezing. I’d set the thermostat at 64. After working in the heat all day, the cool air was refreshing and made for a better night’s sleep. Plus, I’d never had air conditioning before.
“I’m the guy whose floor you’re getting wet.”
There wasn’t a single light on, but her head tilted to the side.
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“If by one of them, you mean a man instead of a boy. Yes, I’m one of them.”
My clothing was as scarce as hers. She didn’t know that, however, because I sat in my recliner in the dark.
“Look, Richard or Dick, whichever you prefer, do you know where the swimmer’s eardrops are? They used to be kept in here, the pool house.”
My lips curled up jus
t a bit at the dick remark. Well done. A point for her. Honestly, I’m not sure she’d ever meet a bigger dick. I sat upright, obnoxiously glancing around.
“Oh my god. You think you’re going to find them sitting there and just looking around?” she asked, distaste dripping from her words.
“I’m not looking for the drops, I’m looking for a fuck to give. Just cause you are looking for something doesn’t mean I am too.”
“Wow. You’re an asshole.”
“Yes.”
As she spun around to face away from me, she slid on the stone floor and fell hard into the puddle of water at her feet.
Instinctively and without thinking, I hustled to her, gripped her upper arm and lifted.
She jerked away but at least was on her feet again. Her eyes fell to my tight compression shorts as she gave me a glance over in the dim light. “Seriously, who are you?” she whispered with a much kinder tone. Her long lashes were stuck together as she stared up at me.
Grabbing a towel from the kitchen counter, I tossed it on the ground so she wouldn’t fall again. She still held the strings on her swimsuit. I could have helped her tie them, but I didn’t offer.
“Seriously, I was agreeing with you. I am an asshole.”
This beautiful girl had no business being around anyone like me. The further away from me the better.
With a quick shake of her head, she stormed out as quickly as she had come in, slamming the door as she went. Scurrying over to her towel, she dried off, tossing a couple of glances my way, or at least toward the glass windows. I knew she couldn’t see in because her eyes roamed across the wall of glass.
Irritated that her fruity scent still lingered—I assumed it to be her shampoo, I picked up the wet towel off the floor and tossed it into my wash pile. My cock was hard, and I slammed the door to the laundry room. Getting hard for another girl disrespected Abby, at least that’s how I saw it in my head. I glanced back out at the girl sitting in the lounger, who stared right back. I was an asshole. Abby wasn’t alive to testify to that, but if she could, she’d agree that I had left her side when she needed me most. This girl, whoever she was, would never have to deal with that because I was going to have nothing to do with her.
_______________
Cleaning the horse stable wasn’t my favorite job at the ranch, but while I forked through the hay in Juliet’s stable, I thought about what I could be doing at the penitentiary. I was sure I wouldn’t be witnessing horses being shot. But some other possibilities scared me more than that. These thoughts made the horse shit, the heat and the smell all worth it. After brushing Juliet down, I flopped the saddle on her, to take her for a short ride around the yard.
“Come on, pretty girl,” I said, rubbing the top of her nose. She and I had gotten along perfectly from day one even if I didn’t know a single thing about horses when I had arrived. Brax would love her. He’d always had a big heart for animals, especially dogs.
“Hey, Ren.” I heard Sal say, and I froze. Ren?
“Hi, Sal.”
I recognized the voice from only those two words.
“I didn’t expect you here so soon this summer.”
Shit. Was the girl from last night Briscoe’s daughter? I panicked a bit replaying in my head the conversation that went down between us.
“Yep, I brought some friends over to swim last night. How are you?”
“Another day another dollar,” he chuckled.
“You can say that again.”
“Another day another dollar,” he repeated, and I heard her giggle.
“I guess, I asked for that. Hey, Sal?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Who’s the guy staying in the pool house?”
I smirked at first, thinking about her asking about me. But her curiosity would only get her hurt. Sal knew I was back here. We’d carried on an entire conversation about a half hour ago.
“Oh, that’s Joss. You should meet him. He’s a fine, young man.”
I mentally noted to be nicer to Sal.
“Hmm,” was all she said. I wondered what that meant.
“How’s my girl?”
“Juliet is as beautiful as ever,” Sal said louder than normal to possibly give me a heads up?
Juliet’s reins draped through my hands. I immediately released them, allowing the leather straps to dangle in front of her as Ren’s footsteps approached. The stall door opened with a squeak. Our eyes engaged, and she gasped like she was startled. She even took a couple of steps backward with her wrists flexed back as if she were going to shove me. Damn, was I that mean last night?
“Oh, hey,” she said, the fear appeared to fall away. She fought to control her breathing but also stepped back from me even further as if she was scared.
“Hey.” I replied, attempting to step around her hoping to ease whatever she was feeling. She quickly moved aside.
“You weren’t doing anything freaky alone with my horse, were you?”
When my eyes darted back up to hers, I found a pretty smile. Beautiful, in fact. A small nose perched perfectly above those white teeth. Her straight blonde hair was pulled back away from her face.
“I don’t kiss and tell.” My light-hearted words didn’t match my curt tone.
But she laughed. Before I glanced away, my eyes took in her brown, leather riding boots and fitted, tucked-in khaki pants. Adorable. However, the weather bordered on a hundred degrees—cute was one thing, but that outfit seemed dumb.
“Thanks for saddling her up.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I was gonna ride her.”
“Oh.”
Turning to hang the pitchfork, she kept talking.
“Wanna ride Fiona?”
Her voice held hope. Hope was not in the list of possessions I had to give.
“No.” I knew the word “asshole” resonated in her head as I walked past Sal and out into the heat, but somehow it felt cooler under the sun than inside that damn stable.
Chapter 7
Dick
Ren
THERE WERE ONLY two things I knew about this Josh guy: he was the biggest asshole I’d ever met, but also the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. For a second, earlier in the stable, I thought he would be courteous, but I was wrong. He seemed angry or something. I was never good about reading guys. Last night, when he rushed to me after I fell in the pool house, my body had reacted without a thought to his closeness. It scared me a little, truth be told. Especially after Sean. But Josh’s body said so much more to me than his mouth. I was unsure which told the truth. There was no doubt he worked hard to have those ridiculous abs. Last night, I’d wanted to touch them even if he had been an asshole. I’d never seen a body like his before. Ever.
Before dinner, my father insisted on waiting for Josh before we ate.
“Can we eat now?” I asked, annoyed after six minutes of silence passed. The food was getting cold.
Hurt etched lines across my father’s face. This is the part I hated. When one of them let him down. Disappointed him. And it inevitably always happened.
“Yes,” he said, scooting away from the table.
I reached for the plate of asparagus, annoyed by his hurt. I just wanted him to get over his search…his quest.
“Be patient with him,” Keyona whispered.
“Patient? It’s been four almost five years. He’s never going to find what he’s looking for, Key.”
“This boy is different, Ren. It really is possible this time. He’s kind but quiet. Besides, something must be up with Joss because he hasn’t missed a meal for the past two months until today. He didn’t come in for breakfast or lunch either.”
Really? My lungs gulped oxygen as they swelled with air. What was this guy’s problem? Was it me? I’d walked into my pool house last night and he had the nerve to be rude to me? He was in my space. After two bites of asparagus, I slid out of my chair, shot through the back door and marched to the pool house. The courtesy knock was for his benefit before I charged in.<
br />
Josh’s chocolate brown eyes flashed up to mine from over his bowl of… ramen noodles. Wow.
“Really. Ramen? You choose Ramen over a nice dinner that Keyona has slaved over for you?”
Nothing. He said nothing. The courage I stormed in there with faded.
“She says you haven’t missed a meal since you got here, but today you can’t bother to join us? Why is that? Is it me?” The more I talked the softer I spoke.
He swallowed whatever was in his mouth and drank from his bottled water. With both hands propped on my hips, I waited for an answer. God, he was stunning. Poster material. Intimidating. His russet hair damp from the recent shower. My hands fell to my side as my nerve dwindled.
He took another bite, completely blowing me off. I watched his jaw line tighten while he chewed. Simply out of anger alone, tears nipped at my eyes, and that pissed me off all the more. Why was he my problem anyway? He wasn’t my problem. This was about my dad. At least that’s what I told myself. Josh’s prominent jaw was coated in a thick, brown scruff. He was undoubtedly a man. It wasn’t just his broad shoulders. It was the size of his biceps that pressed against the material of his sleeves. The Texas sun had colored his skin perfectly. I stood there watching him eat for close to five minutes, refusing to budge but also etching every inch of him in my brain. Five minutes was a very long time.
“Obviously, the old adage ‘if you ignore something long enough it goes away’ doesn’t seem to apply to you,” he said coldly.
“What is your problem? What did I do?” I didn’t understand why he was so hurtful. “Why don’t you like me?”
Clearing his throat, he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “I don’t like most people. So, honestly, don’t feel hurt, you’re in the majority.”
The ginormous chip on his shoulder suddenly infuriated me. Inhaling the deepest of breaths, I slowly walked toward him, nabbed his half full bottle of water and poured it over his head.
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