Page 153 of For Cowgirls and Kings
I grab the bottle, turning from the kitchen, when I freeze, caught by the sight outside the window overlooking the driveway.
Valentina’s standing outside, dressed in jeans and her signature navy tank top, her wild red curls whipping around her face. Her face is drawn and furious—if looks could kill, I would no doubt be dead—but tears fall unchecked over her cheeks, running deep crevices through her perfect makeup. She looks beautiful, in the most devastating kind of way.
But it’s the small, silver revolver in her trembling hand that catches my eye, and holds it. Her eyes are unwavering from my own, and even though she’s spoken not a single word,I knowthe gun is meant for me. Or at least for my life—whatever will inflict the most pain.
We stay like this, frozen in a trance of wills, as I watch her, and she watches me, for what feels like days. My heart pounds like a herd of wild horses, filling my mind with a haze—what do I do?
Valentina isn’t okay with what happened with her family's legacy—that much is clear. And she’s even less okay with what happened to her own fate.
I don’t know Valentina great, but I do know that running a ranch, living in a small town; none of those things are what she wants or is even remotely good at. And Mateo forced her hand.
I don’t blame him, hell, I think what he did was honorable. He painted himself as the villain in her story, in order to give her a shot of redemption, a shot at a better life. He’s the bestperson I know, and I’ll protect him against anything or anyone—even if it is his sister.
But right now, any reasonable or even safe option is fleeing from my mind. The only thing I can think to do is go out there and talk to her, before someone else see’s her. Gus’ll shoot her, Mateo will get shot by her, and Faith and Stetson will no doubt be scarred for life.
Valentina’s here for me.So it should be me that goes.
Before I can move, her gaze breaks, looking to my left. With my heart in my throat, hands gripping the counter, I watch Faith walk directly towards the lunatic with the gun, her blonde hair tied back perfectly in a neat bun—the complete opposite to the villain before her— until they’re nearly toe to toe.
I hold my breath, straining to hear words that refuse to reach me. And then Faith turns around, her eyes meeting mine for a single moment, before they dart away.
Valentina lowers the gun, her hand quivering as a thousand emotions race across her perfect face. It’s in this moment, I pity her—it’s always the misunderstood girl who ends up losing herself in the end. And I think Valentina might be the most misunderstood of all, even if she does make my skin crawl.
We’re frozen, only a thin piece of glass and a thousand unspoken words between us. My heart pounds like a drum in my ears as I wait for her to turn and leave—Faith, although I don’t understand her involvement, said something to her to make her pause.
But as I blink, too afraid to even move, Valentina doesn’t turn around and leave. Pure devastation crosses her face, her eyes widening and mouth opening in a silent scream—it’s my only warning as she raises the gun once more, her trembling gone.
And then the sound of a bullet ripping through the air fills my ears.
