Page 3 of Buck Me

Things have been particularly bad since I graduated and returned home to his full control. But I have a feeling they’re about to get a whole lot worse.

Then Geoffrey Kingridge appears behind Danner. He claps Danner on the back with the force of a man on a mission. “Hey, you want to be a Kingridge or not? You don’t sit here while that asshole’s popping off.” And just like that, he’s gone, storming toward the middle of the room where the shouting’s getting louder.

“Right,” Danner mutters, rising to his feet. “I’m sure there isn’t going to be a problem, but I should probably head over.”

“Of course,” I mumble.

My stomach knots as a familiar, authoritative voice slices through the rising tension. Then I hear it, and my heart stops altogether.

“Rebecca. Come.”

Shit.

It isn’t a suggestion. I take a steady inhale of breath and stand slowly, smoothing my dress with one hand as I move to my father’s side.

Think of the optics. Think of the optics.

The words loop in my head like a chant I can't escape. I position myself between Dad and his perky campaign manager. I’m opposite his newest girlfriend. Her eyes don’t meet mine. She keeps her gaze fixed on the assembling crowd and holds her wine glass like a trophy. They might be a match made in heaven.

A tense silence falls over the even space in the Velvet Spur. It’s the kind that prickles against your skin before a storm. Iglance around as the Kingridge brothers assemble, one by one, forming a loose wall of muscle and fury across from us.

Dad raises his glass, the crystal catching the candlelight as he straightens his posture with theatrical ease. My stomach clenches. I already know what’s coming.

Then he raises his voice. It’s loud, calculated, and meant to carry. “This community needs growth. The highway expansion isn’t just about convenience. It’s about jobs, opportunity, and progress.”

The words echo like a threat because that’s exactly what they are. Alex Kingridge steps forward. He’s all coiled muscle and sharp fury. My former stepmother, Cassidy, is by his side. She shoots me a sympathetic look. Even though I appreciate it, I look away. She got out of this nightmare and didn’t stop to take me with her.

The fire in Alex’s eyes is unmistakable. “You want progress? Try doing it without threatening to cut our ranch in half.”

My father stares back at him with a smug smile. It’s the kind that makes me want to disappear into the floor.

“Progress comes at a cost,” he says smoothly. “Sometimes that means sacrifice for the good of the community. It’s about time the Kingridge Ranch did its part, if you ask me.”

Geoffrey Kingridge lets out a derisive snort and steps in. “Man, there ain’t nothing out here for miles, and you’re telling me the only option is straight through here? I’m so sick of your bullshit.”

There’s murmuring between the Kingridge men now. It’s low, gravelly, and thick with warning. The tension crackles through the air like a live wire, and I suddenly feel lightheaded.

Alex’s shoulders rise, then drop, his expression shifting from rage to something colder. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he says, though his voice is taut. “It’s just this asshole is about to find out what we call sacrifice. I’ve had enough.”

I take a small, instinctive step back. But before I can get far, my father’s hand clamps around my wrist. Instinctively, I try to pull away, but his fingers dig into the flesh on my forearm. It takes everything in me not to let out a yelp.

“Let me go,” I growl under my breath.

Dad turns toward me. “United front,” he hisses, his breath hot and sharp against my ear.

“Fine.” I tug my arm away.

I glance up at him, startled. But Dad’s expression is already smoothed into a politician’s grin as he turns to face Alex. I know we aren’t done yet. My training takes over, and a smile stretches onto my face.

“Alex, you’re just upset that my proposal might force you to open your books. Is that it?” His voice is sharp with venom now. “Or maybe it’s the fact that your wife is my leftover? That one still stings a little, doesn’t it?”

Gasps ripple through the room like a shockwave. There’s a beat of silence, just long enough for the floor to feel like it’s dropping out from under me.

“Oh,hellno.” A woman’s voice slices through the hush like a blade.

Then chaos explodes.

My father’s laughing, sharp and cruel. The Kingridge brothers are lunging. One of the catering tables flips, sending plates, cutlery, and champagne glasses crashing to the ground in a silver-and-glass symphony of destruction. Guests gasp and scatter.

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