Page 60 of For Cowgirls and Kings
The truth is, I’ve called in every favor that I have, and then some as a Hail Mary. I called my buddy in the Texas senate, to see if he had connections that could help—and even though I could tell he wanted to—I knew it wasn’t the right person to call.
I have all this money, these connections, and it isn’t doing me any good when it matters most.What’s the fucking point?
“Come over to the house with me. I was only able to convince Stetson to stay home because I told her you’d be coming over for lunch. And you know how she is about cooking for people, especially when she’s nervous. Do this for her, and we will figure out what to do next.”
I hesitate, tipping my head to the sky. Not because I don’t think spending time with them will make me feel better—Iknow I’ll feel better just being around them—but that’s why I’m struggling.
Why should I feel better when Dale’s still out there suffering?
“Hey.” His hand claps down on my shoulder, an undercurrent of annoyance lacing his tone. Poor guy isn’t used to showing his emotions, or asking people twice, if I had to guess. “You being miserable isn’t doing Dale any favors. A clear head, and full belly will make it easier for you to focus. And it’ll make my woman, andDale’s best friend, feel better.”
I roll my eyes as I shift to look back down at him. This is a man who gets what he wants, always, methods be damned. It’s one of the things I admire about him.
“Fine, I’ll meet you there.” I sag, already moving toward my truck. But Gus’s hand squeezes my shoulder once more, halting my steps.
He shrugs over his shoulder, toward his own truck. “Ride with me, and I’ll bring you back later. You look tired enough that you might just fall asleep behind the wheel.” His voice is gruff with an emotion I don’t recognize, so I don’t fight him. There’s no point anyways. I’m dead tired.
We’re driving out of town, the guilt of not telling Gus about McCrae and my overwhelming panic about Dale swirling through me, making me borderline nauseous. Which has to be why I open my mouth, saying the first thing that pops into my head.
“What’s the deal with your brother?” I instantly bite my tongue, and as Gus’s knuckles whiten around the wheel, I know there’s no going back now.
“Why would you ask?” he asks, all skepticism. Which is fair—I’ve never once asked about McCrae, or shown any interest in that part of his life. But I feel broken, adrift, and I’m desperate to grapple with anything at this point.
“I need a distraction. And you were being all affectionate back there. Thought maybe we had a breakthrough.” It’s only half of the truth.
But to my surprise, he sighs, his knuckles flexing once, twice, before shrugging. “He raised me since I was eleven, when my parents died. And even though I know I should be grateful, he was the most evil kind of man.” Gus purses his lips, like he’s contemplating saying more and I hold my breath. His eyes narrow though, and he remains silent.
“Like evil, like a killer? Did he abuse you?” I ask, even though I know I’m pushing it.
“What? No. I don’t think he’s a killer, although he’s dead enough inside that he might be. Wouldn’t surprise me, I guess.” We slow, pulling into the driveway, the wooden sign overhead waving us in. “He wasn’t always like that. But by the time my parents died, he was a shell of the man I once admired. Don’t know why, and don’t care either. It was just what it was.”
I nod, even as a million questions barrel to the tip of my tongue. I keep them at bay, as we park, and Gus opens the truck door as quickly as possible, clearly uncomfortable. But before he slams the door shut, he pauses, his eyes boring fiery holes into my own.
“He was a miserable cunt when my parents died. And then he blamed me for their death, which only made it worse.”
My brows scrunch. “Why?”
“Because it was my fault.” He slams the door, striding away, leaving me with more questions than I started with. Questions I know I’ll most likely never get the answer to. Hell, I think learning this much about him was a miracle. One I hate I can’t even appreciate because I know him learning about McCrae and I won’t stay a secret forever.
And when it comes out, will he still be my friend?
My phone rings, slicing through my train of thought, and I lift it to my ear without looking to see who it is.
“Hello?” I ask, my eyes still following Gus as he walks into the house.
“You don’t have long.”
I freeze, my heart plummeting like a rock in my stomach. “Who’s this?”
There’s a heavy sigh on the other end, before I hear shuffling. “There’s no time for that. The girl, she doesn’t have long. You have to find her, and soon, or she’s going to die.”
There’s no threat in his words, only resignation, and I have to keep from physically falling into pieces. My stomach rolls, bile climbing up my throat.
“How do I find her?” I ask, my voice quivering.
“Go to the west side of the Reacher National Forest.” He pauses, and there’s another noise on the other end, something awfully similar to a cry, and my heart shatters.Dale?
“Is she okay?” I beg.
