Page 160 of Westin

“Some things are so broken,” I say carefully, “that it’s better to just let the water wash all the pieces away and forget the past completely.”

He holds out his hand. I shake it. Our chests are inches apart, our eyes locked. Then, he releases me and steps back. Neither of us speak for a moment.

He turns on his heel and goes back to the tent. Through the doorway, I see Jensen and Deacon appear at his side. They sweep him up and head to the bar. The next part of our plan is in motion. I need to get Diane somewhere safe so I can take care of business.

In the tent, I find my wife and take a seat, pulling her to sit on my knee. She can tell I’m tense, but she doesn’t ask why. I think, at this point, she knows better. She asks me if I had any cake, and I say I didn’t, so she feeds me a piece off her fork.

Safe in my arms, I let her have her moment. She’s smiling, lighter than she’s been in months, but from the corner of my eye, I’m watching Jensen and Deacon lead a drunk David out of the tent.

Like an animal to slaughter.

They disappear into the dark, talking, laughing. I beckon Keira from the corner of the room to come and collect Diane. Her brow is furrowed, and I know that Sovereign told her where we’re headed.

“Where are you going?” Diane asks as we leave the tent.

I kiss her forehead. The moon is so full overhead, it’s as light as the early morning. I can see her face clearly. Her blonde hair is curled in the humidity, flowers tangled in her waves, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

God, I can’t wait to get back to her tonight.

“I have a few things to tie up tonight,” I say. “Then I’ll be back to tieyouup.”

She blushes. Keira looks away.

“When?”

“Soon.”

She kisses me hard, hands tangled in the front of my shirt. Then, Keira takes her away, down to the gatehouse. They disappear around the bend, and I turn on my heel, unwilling to waste a second.

I saw Deacon and Jensen leave with David ten minutes ago under the guise of going for a ride and talking business now that our ranches are neighbors. That means I need to tear up the side of themountain or risk fucking everything up. Tonight has to be perfectly timed, or we’re shit out of luck.

Rocky is already saddled up. In the hayloft, I brush aside the blanket and pull up my rifle, slinging it over my shoulder. Then, I drop to the ground beside Rocky. He shies away, and I soothe him, clicking my tongue. We need to get in and out quietly.

Music thrums from the tent. Everyone is so fucking drunk, it’ll be a miracle if they hear anything.

I strip off my vest and roll my sleeves up, undoing my top button to free my collar. The gun and scope goes over my shoulder. I tighten the straps to keep it firm on my back. Then, I take my hat from where it hangs by Rocky’s stall door and swing up on him. He senses my quick pulse and prances to the side.

“Down boy,” I say. “All you have to do is run tonight.”

I click my tongue, and he shoots forward, hooves clattering, gravel spraying. We skid from the barn, and he spins hard as I turn the reins. The cliffs take an hour or so to reach on a good day. I have to make it in thirty minutes.

Rocky runs like he has never run before. I should have taken Gracey because she’s quick, fast, but this feels like something my horse and I should do together.

The trees are a dark shadow. Down below, the tent glows. Overhead, the moon is a white ball in the sky. Stars hang heavy, burning pale gold. Everything is bathed in deep blue.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Rocky’s uneven gait pounds with my heart, alongside the blood in my veins.

My mind calms. This is what I’m good at, what I’ve done for years, but this is the first time it was all for me. Normally, I hunt and kill for Sovereign and the ranch.

I’ve never hunted my own prey before.

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