Page 8 of Broken Player

"Do you think we should wait for your parents to get home?" Quinn wondered.

Shaking my head, I slid out the stack of papers inside. "What if they're hiding something? My dad's been a little cagey lately when I've brought up some of the changes I want to make for the ranch."

Quinn leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Fuck, this could be bad."

"I know." I turned over the papers, scanning the print quickly. The more I read, the more my stomach dropped, and I started to feel lightheaded. Quinn could read me like a book and tensed next to me.

"What is it?" he asked.

Wordlessly, I handed him the papers so he could look them over. I watched as his eyes ran down the length of the page. "Fuck," he whispered, his hazel eyes lifting to meet mine.

"Fuck's right. Do you think they were going to tell us?" My thoughts were scrambling around in my head, and I couldn't make sense of what I'd just read.

"I don't know, Ry. But we need to talk to them as soon as they get home. This is really, really serious."

"Let's talk to them over dinner. We've got chores to finish and not a lot of daylight left to do them." I stood up, stuffed the papers back in the envelope, moved to my bedroom, and left it on my dresser.

When I got outside, Quinn was already on Daisy's back, ready to finish our tasks for the day, but he didn't look happy. I didn'tfeelhappy about it, so I couldn't blame him.

"We better get this done," Quinn said quietly.

I nodded and pulled myself onto Storm's back. Despite the hundred and five degree weather, chills rolled down my spine. Pushing Storm into a trot, I was tempted to gallop across the pastures and into the sunset. That sounded like a better prospect than sitting over dinner and confronting my parents about how we were about to lose our farm.

My heart slammedagainst my ribcage, and I couldn't catch my breath. I caught Quinn's eye as he lowered himself into the chair next to me at the table. His eyes were wide, and a light sheen of sweat had broken out across his forehead. He looked about as freaked out as I felt about confronting my parents.

Looking at my mom and dad, you'd never guess anything was amiss. My mom cheerfully hummed as she brought the food tothe table, and my dad was telling Quinn a joke he'd heard today. Once my mom finally sat down, I waited until everyone dished up their food before clearing my throat.

Quinn reached under the table for my hand, lacing our fingers together and squeezing. I took a deep breath, his support giving me the strength I needed to have this conversation. Both of my parents turned toward me, and their curious stares bored into me. I just wasn't sure what to say to start the most awkward conversation I'd probably ever have in my entire life.

"When you guys were out today, Quinn and I had an interesting visitor," I started.

My mom's eyes darted to my dad before shifting back to me. "Oh?" she asked.

Nodding, I continued. "Yep. A man came by to drop off some papers." I pulled the envelope out from under my chair, setting it down on the table and sliding it towards my dad. "About the ranch."

My mom paled and reached for her lemonade glass, her shaking hand making the liquid slosh around as she brought it to her mouth.

My dad's shoulders slumped, and he let out a long sigh. "We thought we could fix it before it would ever get this far, kiddo. We never wanted you to have to worry about it. You've already done so much for us."

I rubbed my temples. I could already feel the beginning of a stress headache forming. I'd held onto one last shred of hope that they'd tell me this had all been some terrible mistake or they'd fixed it before I'd ever found out. But that clearly wasn't the case.

"What are our options at this point?" I questioned, looking at my dad.

He avoided meeting my eyes, playing with his napkin instead. "We've tried getting another mortgage, getting a loan,and requesting a payment arrangement to pay off the debt, but we've been denied every step of the way. The ranch isn't as profitable as it once was, and we don't have the money to invest in new technology."

Tapping my fingers on the table, I clenched my jaw and took a few deep breaths to calm down. An entire tornado of frustration was blowing its way through my body right now, so I held as still as I could to let it pass. Quinn grabbed my hand again, rubbing soothing circles on my wrist with his thumb. I didn't know what I'd do if he wasn't here right now.

Finally, I opened my eyes. "I've been trying to tell you for months about changes we could make to streamline things and save money while not having to invest much, and you refused to listen, dad. You refused to even consider any of my ideas. If things were so bad, why the hell wouldn't you have tried what we could to fix this? Now we're going to lose the ranch!" I yelled, my voice rising more with every word. My chest was heaving. I'd never yelled at my parents before, but I was so angry and frustrated and scared.

My dad sat up straighter, folding his arms across his chest. "I thought I could handle it myself." Ah, now it made sense. My dad was a proud man, and since his accident, he'd felt useless, like his best years were behind him and like he couldn't contribute to the ranch anymore. This ranch had been in his family for generations, his grandfather and father both lived their lives here, worked the land, and raised their families. Now it was his turn, and he'd been too stubborn to ask for help before it was too late.

Waving my hand around at nothing in particular, I said, "Clearly not. We've got a month to try to fix this."

My mom spoke up. "Honey, it's too late. There's nothing we can do."

Pushing my shoulders back, I stood up, pulling Quinn with me by our joined hands. "I amnotletting go of this ranch. Maybe you two are okay just giving up, but while I still have breath in my body, I will fight with everything I have to save this place. This is our home. No one is taking it from us."

Spinning on my heel, I marched off toward my room. "Where are we going?" Quinn asked, letting me drag him behind me.

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