Page 19 of Love Me, I Dare You

The Disciples aren’t men to be messed with and although I’m not officially a member, their crew is loyal and took Jase’s assault as a direct hit.

Jase scoffs, shaking his head in utter disbelief. “I didn’t believe Pete down at the barbershop when he told me you’d gone in for a cut. Thought the old fucker had finally lost all his marbles or his one good eye. I never thought I’d see the day when Nash Bishop returned to Crossroads.”

What he really means to say is I didn’t think you were stupid enough to come back to town.

“Yeah, well, neither did I. But some things you can’t run from.”

Bailey lets out a derisive scoff, annoyed her brother isn’t assaulting me and instead keeping a conversation. The sassy blonde turns away, stomping her heels on the way to the same back room I’m now certain is her office.

Something in Jase’s expression shifts as she walks away, and it throws me off completely. He’s not angry like I’d assumed he’d be, at least at first. Jase seems sort of sad. Like there’s something weighing down on him that frankly has nothing to do with me or the situation of our past revolving around his sister. I think about how Bailey seemed pissed he’s been gone for a few days and wonder if it has anything to do with that and the trip I remember Penny telling her he was on.

I’ve always been good and reading people, but it only further developed the longer I was away and on my own. Contrary to what Bailey seems to believe, the last ten years have been exhausting. From moving from town to town, to spending nights out in the middle of nowhere while on a job, I’ve been livinglife out on the open road with no true purpose—a true fucking outlaw up to no good.

“I heard about your dad,” Jase says, his tone low and unemotional as he rounds the bar, grabs a glass and pours me two fingers of whiskey.

I take the glass from him and take a sip, savoring the bitter taste but appreciating the subtle citrusy notes in this variety. Definitely better than the shit Bailey concocted that was nothing but sugar. “Yeah, well, that’s life.”

It’s odd to be standing face to face with a man who once knew everything about me, but now feels like a complete stranger. Ten years is a long time and somehow Jase doesn’t seem to be upset that I've returned, despite his threats of what would happen if I ever did. Maybe there’s a decade long statute of limitations and I’ve served my sentence. Whatever it is, I’m taking full advantage of the fact the man hasn’t shoved his fist into my face.

Or maybe he witnessed my interaction with Bailey and realizes there is no threat because his sister hates my fucking guts?

Jase serves himself a glass and throws it back all at once. “I know you guys haven’t had the best relationship with him, but…”

Bingo. That’s it—he found out my father’s dying and suddenly that’s enough punishment. I can see the unease in his expression as he refuses to meet my gaze. He doesn’t know what to say and I don’t expect him to say anything at all. Not about my father and how much it sucks that the bastard who’s hated me my entire life is on his well deserving deathbed.

I don’t say that. Afraid of sounding too much like a complete asshole telling him Franklin Bishop, taking his last breath, is a blessing in disguise.

So I go for a lie instead. “It still sucks, yeah I guess that’s true. Especially since he’s about to leave my brothers and I with a shit-ton of debt.” That part is true. I hate the bastard and the onlything keeping me from wishing he’d just cross over to the other side is the deep hole he’s left my brother and sister in. I don’t need the money from the ranch, neither do Beau nor Theo, who are doing pretty well on their own. But it’s Monty and Monroe who will be the ones affected by its loss.

Monty put the degree in architecture he earned online while raising Monroe to good use, and has made his own fortune, keeping whatever part of the ranch alive and building his own construction company from the ground up. Montgomery Builds is a well-established construction firm servicing the entirety of North Carolina down to the southern border of South Carolina. He’s kept busy working alongside Monroe, who takes care of all the design elements of the interiors of their builds, but the ranch was their home. I know Monty has always dreamed of one day returning to it and calling it his. He’s a good and true cowboy at heart.

“That bad, huh?” Jase asks, though I know he knows more about the situation than he’s letting on.

Bismarck King has his eyes, ears, and hands in every business in this town, and I’m nearly certain he’s had a hand in my father’s downfall. Not that Franklin, the deadbeat, alcoholic, gambler, doesn’t deserve what he's been dealt, but the deeper I look into the men my father owes money to, the more I see Daddy King's name pop up. The self-righteous prick who doubles as mayor has the entire town and his own family fooled, but I saw through the bastard the moment he offered me money to get out of town and never return.

“Not even close to bad. It’s fucking terrifying the amount of repairs, time and money it’s going to cost us to get the place back to a livable standard. On top of that, we have to make sure it all gets done and sold before the bastard croaks or else we lose it. There’s a lot of money he owes that will be taken out of the estate if we don’t put the deed under Monty’s name.”

Jase nods in understanding. “My pops mentioned it to me earlier this year. He’d heard Frank owed a lot of people money.”

Yeah, I’m sure he did. I finish up the whiskey and grab the bottle, helping myself to another drink. “That's why I’m here. There’s no way Monty’s gonna be able to salvage any part of the ranch to make it buyable without some help. Frank not only ran himself bankrupt, but the ranch itself is falling apart. Rotted wood, trash build up and junk everywhere. It’s fucking bad.”

Jase stiffens, his expression going bleak. I can see he’s suddenly anxious, shifting back and forth on his feet, and twiddling his fingers as he taps the counter. “So you’re not here because of her?” he asks nervously, and I can’t help but laugh at his expense.

The fucker was too scared to ask this whole time and instead feigned interest in my family’s tragedy.

I break out into a fit of laughter at his stupid insinuation, but his expression doesn’t change. All around us, the bar patrons watch us carefully, fully knowing there’s a history between Jase and me most thought was dead and buried. I’m sure it’s a novelty to see us here, making nice.

“Ten years, brother. You think I’d wait ten years to come and claim her if it’s what I wanted? Ain’t nothing you need to worry about on that front. Besides,” I say, when from the corner of my eye, I catch Bailey back out on the floor. She’s over at a table with a group of guys who just walked in and are ordering a round of drinks for the douche wearing an“It’s My Fucking Bachelor Party”sash.

The way his eyes dip low and take in Bailey’s figure in the dangerously enticing outfit she’s wearing makes me increasingly mad. Though, nothing like the way my blood boils when she twirls a strand of her hair between her fingers and gives the asshole a little wink before walking off with his order. Onlyto stop by another table and continue flirting with a different fucker, like she’s done every night I’ve come in here.

Her form grows stiff as she senses me watching her, and stops just before us, rolling her eyes and not bothering with a second glance. “Looks like she fucking hates me.” Jase chuckles in understanding.

“Yeah, and for good reason.” The voice comes from behind me, and there’s no way I wouldn’t recognize the snarky southern drawl in the woman’s tone.

My lips quirk up into a familiar smile. “Billie Cole,” I say, turning around to meet the fierce scowl on Bailey’s best friend’s face.

These two were as thick as thieves and as troublesome as it came when we were younger, though no one saw it but me. In front of everyone else, Billie Cole and Bailey King were innocent angels, the exemplary Southern Belle’s everyone was fooled into thinking they were.

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