Page 51 of Auctioned to the Cowboys

“Taylor. Be careful. Your father—”

“It’s okay, Natalie. Open up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. They’ve got him on the ground.”

When I get closer, the damage to the front door comes into view. Jesus. The wood is splintered in places, and the paint is chipped. Rocks litter the front step. Taylor’s father was riled up enough to do some serious damage.

The door opens just a crack, with a security chain preventing it from opening fully. A young woman’s face appears. “Taylor?”

“Natalie.”

Her eyes flick to me, and Taylor turns. “Don’t worry. This is Maverick. He’s a good guy.”

A good guy.

But I’m not, am I? Not good enough for her.

Natalie swipes the chain aside and opens the door. “We were so scared.” She falls into Taylor’s embrace, and the two women clasp each other tightly. Behind Natalie, a skinny girl of around thirteen or fourteen stands with her arms wrapped around herself. Her face is red and blotchy, and tears have left damp, salty streaks down her cheeks. Her hair is the same color as Taylor’s but hangs in stringy clumps around her too-skinny face. Taylor draws quickly away from Natalie and reaches for her sister, enveloping her in her arms. “Molly.”

The embrace is so fierce and intense I look away to give them privacy and so emotion won’t clog my throat.

At the roadside, Jesse spits on Taylor’s father, who’s still unconscious. “This piece of shit,” he growls at Clint. “This asshole used his daughters like they were his fucking possessions.” It’s not like him to swear, but I get why he feels the need to do it now.

“What are we going to do with him?”

“Call the police,” Jesse barks.

“Okay.” Clint pulls out his phone and wanders further away from the house to handle the conversation that Taylor and Molly should be protected from.

“I’m so sorry,” Taylor says, addressing Natalie. “What’s your mom going to say?”

“It’s okay.” I pull a wad of cash from my pocket and peel off some bills. “We’ll clean up the dirt and the rocks. You can get the door repaired and painted with this.” I pass Natalie the money and she eyes me curiously.

“And who are you?” she asks.

I know she’s not asking for my name again, but the reason I’m paying for Taylor’s repairs. I tip my hat and hold out my hand, and Natalie shakes it. Molly’s watching too with equally curious eyes.

“That’s a question for another day,” Taylor says. “Molly, do you have any of your things?”

Molly nods and disappears into the house, returning with a small blue backpack. That sorry man outside provided so little for his family. What kind of man could be this way to his own flesh and blood? I don’t know why I even bother to think that way because I know. Too many men. Too many men think their flesh and blood are there as punching bags or property.

“Take Molly and wait in the truck,” I tell Taylor.

She nods and leads her sister up the path to the sidewalk, turning to offer Natalie a small and apologetic wave. I know she must feel terrible for what her friend has gone through because of her father. No matter how much people tell us it’s not our fault, kids still feel a sense of responsibility towards their parents.

I turn to Taylor’s friend. “Thank you for taking care of Molly, and I’m so sorry you had to deal with this.” I wave in Taylor’s father’s direction. He’s groaning and writhing on the floor now with Jesse’s huge boot resting on his chest.

I pick up two of the rocks and set them back into the garden, filling dents in the dirt. Her mom has made a pretty display that I want to try to put it back as it was. It takes three more journeys back and forth until the step is free of rocks. “Do you have a brush?”

Natalie disappears inside, returning with a brush and a small pan. I sweep up the dirt as best as I can and drop it around the flowers. It doesn’t look too bad now. A professional will need to fix just a few dents in the door.

“You’re a good friend,” I tell her as I get ready to check on Taylor and Molly.

“She didn’t deserve a father like that,” Natalie says. “At least mine just fucked off and left us. But that man—” She shakes her head. “He doesn’t care about them. He’ll really hurt them if he gets the chance.”

“He’s going to get what’s coming to him.”

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