Page 82 of Roaring Fork Wrangler

“Gray, you’re my brother, I love you, and I appreciate you looking out for me. However, conversations between Cord and me are none ofyourbusiness.”

“I know he cares about you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I glanced over at the expression I expected to see on his face.

“Wow,” he muttered.

“I’m not going to apologize. I told you it’s none of yourconcern, and I meant it.”

“Wrong. You said it was none of my business. While that’s true, there will never be a time in your life when I won’t be concerned about you. The same as you will always feel protective of me.”

“I don’t need your protection with Cord. I just need you to let it be for a bit until I figure out how I feel.”

“Understood.”

I gripped the steering wheel tighter when he used the same word Cord had.

With the exceptionof stopping to give my mom a kiss on the cheek when we got home, I went straight upstairs and shut the door. I closed the window blinds, lay on my bed, and hugged my pillow.

The last month had been one of the most emotionally trying times of my life other than when it was me going to rehab every day, learning to walk again. I was damn lucky I wasn’t paralyzed after the damage my spinal cord had sustained, not that it made my recovery easy by any means.

Truthfully, I didn’t allow myself to spend much time dwelling on it. I was injured, and I recovered. Most people had no idea I’d even had surgery for it unless they saw the scar. Which Cord hadn’t and, now, neverwould. I had thought about how much I’d tell him when that day came, but that no longer mattered.

I opened my eyes when I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

“Hey, Juni. Are you awake?”

“I am now,” I said when Gray stuck his head inside. “What do you want?”

“Uncle Pete is here, and he’s talking to Mom and Dad about the arrest. I figured you might want to hear it.”

“I don’t.” I rolled over so my back was to him.

“I heard him say something about Cord’s mom.”

I bolted upright. “Who did?”

“Pete, and the more I stand here talking to you, the less of it I’m hearing.”

I followed him down the hallway, and we sat on the stairs where we did as kids when we were supposed to be in bed.

“Decker is digging into it now, but it seems like too much of a coincidence,” I heard my uncle say. I looked at Gray, and he shrugged. “I know you’re a few years younger, but do either of you remember Brianna Conrad or Joe Wilkins?”

“I remember Joe,” said my dad. “Football player, right?”

“Yes, and guess who was voted cutest couple in their senior year?”

Neither of my parents answered.

“I’ll give you a hint. Joe was the male half.”

“Brianna,” guessed my mom.

“Nope. Patricia Rooker.”

When I gasped, Gray put his hand over my mouth.

“You might as well come the rest of the way downstairs. We know you’re eavesdropping,” my dad said in a raised voice.

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