Page 124 of Westin

“Let’s go get your woman’s horses,” he says.

I nod, swinging back into the truck. We’re both quiet as we head around the access road that leads to the driveway. After a while, Deacon clears his throat.

“That girl you got… Does she get it?” he asks.

“Get what?”

“Does she like what you like?”

I know right away what he means. Surprised, I glance over at him and find his eyes fixed out the window. We’ve never talked about our sex lives before.

“Is this about the church girl?” I say, deflecting.

He shrugs.

There’s a short silence. I laugh, shaking my head.

“So you’re not pussy whipped, huh?” I say.

“Can’t be if I haven’t had it,” he says.

“How long have you been waiting on it?” My interest is piqued.

“Not important,” he says, and I know it has probably been weeks.

We pull up, and I circle the trailer so the end is closer to the barn door. There’s no one home that I can see, so it seems best we get in and out without causing a fuss. I step out, and Deacon does the same. He squints over at the house.

“Does the brother have a woman here?” he asks.

I scan the yard and house. “Maybe, but it doesn’t look like anyone’s home now.”

Deacon takes out his gun, checking the chamber. He pushes it in his belt and puts his hat on. I circle the truck and head to the barn, pulling the door open. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the dim interior, but when they do, I see what we’ve come for.

Gracey and Sunshine lean out of their stalls, staring with wide, glassy eyes.

“That there’s the horses,” I say, jerking my head.

Deacon follows me in, grabbing two halters and lead ropes from the bin by the door. The horses are wary, but they come as we usher them from the barn and into the trailer. For a second, I consider letting the rest of the horses out and lighting a match.

But no, that would break Diane’s heart. As much as I hate David and want to hurt him, I have to remember that she’s the most important thing in all of this.

Back in the passenger seat, Deacon is having another cigarette. I scan the barn and house one more time, but everything is eerily quiet as I swing back into the truck. I turn the key, the engine revs, and we’re headed back down the drive and onto the road.

But my heart is pounding slow and heavy.

I wanted him to be there.

I wanted to kill him, to hurt him the way he hurt her—with my bare hands. A bullet in the head is too neat and merciful. David Carter doesn’t deserve my mercy.

He deserves my rage.

Deacon and I go back into the city. He wants to talk, so I park, leaving the horses waiting with hay from the back of the truck. We end up in a diner, at the street corner. We both have black coffee and breakfast. I wait until he finishes his food and brushes off his hands.

“I got a problem,” he says. “Corbin Buchanan and Vince Cassidy are pushing at the border of my land.”

“Vince Cassidy the real estate developer?” I ask.

He nods. “They’re gonna try to price me out.”

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