Page 53 of Brutal Heir

Which leads me back to her sister. “Bill took his wife to San Antonio. How did that go?”

“She’s the same,” Mayela says, sobering. “We’re praying for a transplant, but I don’t know that it’ll happen for her.”

“Sorry to hear that.” It’s a tough spot for them to be in. But maybe there’s someone I can reach out to.

“It is what it is, but thanks for asking,” she says, sounding tired. “I’ll go check on the kid and see how he’s doing.”

“Good luck.”

I end the call and shoot off a text to see if anything can be done. It’s sobering to find us all at a crossroads. I definitely need to make changes. I need to come clean and get ahead of this before I end up like Addler.

Going back to my messages, I find Sage’s contact.Hey, you coming by?

She answers right away.Maybe.

So how could I convince you?I reply, playing along.

Maybe a soak in that big tub.

That’s doable. Head over.

Is it big enough for two?

That’s all going to depend on the conversation. But I don’t want to start that now.Maybe.

Let me pack a couple of things. You want anything? Other than the nightie.

I like the fact she thought of that.How about some pizza to go with this beer.

Sounds good.

Chapter 31

Sage

The scent of pizza wafts into my nostrils, making my stomach growl in anticipation. It’s been a long day, and all I want is to relax with some good food and even better company. It’s been months since I’ve had pizza, and it’s more tempting than I thought it would be. I’ve actually considered sneaking a slice before I get to the ranch. But, somehow, I’ve managed to hold back.

The thought of Ezequiel waiting for me sends a shiver of excitement down my spine. He didn’t ask me what was wrong, why I felt I needed meds to make it through. But I’ve already made up my mind to tell him. I can’t keep it bottled up forever, and I don’t think he’ll judge me too harshly.

On the heels of that thought, my phone dings, announcing a message coming in. The ringtone says it’s a message from Dad, which sobers me quicker than seeing the porch light come on when trying to sneak in after curfew on a school night.

Dad and Mom have been trying to get in touch with me, but I’ve been keeping them at bay. He’s been giving me space to settle in, which is a lot coming from him.

I pull up to the gate and put the truck in park before picking up my phone. It’s been a while, but I think I may finally be ready to talk to them. I consider what to say. I’ve had his email sitting in my inbox, waiting. Should I just reply to that instead of calling?

I know he’s going to start out about the inci…the beating I took. Meanwhile, Mom, an avid churchgoer, will try to get me to forgive and forget so I can move on. Sigh. I still have issues seeing past the fact the guy was an out-of-control criminal. I can’t deal with that in my life, and I don’t know that I ever will.

That still leaves me at a crossroads. Dad’s made the first move, and Mom’s made another. That means I’m next, so I pull up his text and read what he wrote.

Hey, pumpkin. Checking in. Hope you got to take a day off and enjoy the holiday. We’re flipping burgers at home, thinking about you. Miss you. Your mother’s praying for you.

Taking a deep breath, I try writing a reply. Everything I come up with is either too formal or too dismissive. I need something like the Goldilocks of texts. Not too long, not too short. Not too gripping, not too flippant.

My stomach rumbles. I drop my hand on the steering wheel and shake my head. Why did I ever think I could do this quickly? Ugh, why did I think I could do this, period?

Putting the phone in the cup holder, I exit the truck and glance around, checking the ground around me for any sign of danger. The sun is setting, the light turning dim all around me. Thankfully, everything seems quiet and peaceful, so I let out asigh of relief.

Taking a few extra minutes, I go to the back seat and open the new snake guards I picked up earlier.

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