Page 30 of Ace of Spades
I lead him to Vegas’s stall, haltering her and leading her back outside.
“She threw her back left, the others are all a bit overdue anyways so if you have the time and wouldn’t mind just going ahead and re-doing all of them, I would appreciate that so much.”
“No problem,” he tells me, going to grab his tools from his truck.
Thunder rolls in the distance, the sky turning grey with the threat of rain.
I tie Vegas to the wash rack and then make myself comfortable on the bed of my truck where I can watch him, pulling my phone out of my hoodie pocket and scrolling through my socials. I check my messages to find a few offers for different brand deals, taking the time to read and respond to each one, but my heart sinks when I still don’t find a single full-time job offer.
Letting out a sigh, I place my phone back in my pocket, turning my attention to Rafe as he gets to work trimming Vegas’s hooves.
“So how’s everything at the ranch?” I ask.
“Good,” he tells me. “We should have the guest ranch up and running any day now. Turns out that with all of those new TV shows recently, the city folks are willing to pay good money for a week out in the mountains, or at least that’s what we’ve heard. Nothing like that fancy resort of your father’s, but we’re hoping it catches on.”
“So like a tourist destination?” I ask.
“Yeah, I guess so. The four of us can teach them how to ride, take them on trail rides, and show them what ranch life looks like—up close and personal.”
“I like that,” I tell him truthfully.
“Yeah,” Rafe says, but I notice a pause in his tone, as if he’s leaving something left unsaid.
The sound of tires on gravel catches my attention, and I look up to find none other than Weston’s navy blue truck pulling through the front gates and down the driveway directly toward us.
What on earth was he doing here?
I look at Rafe who doesn’t seem the slightest bit surprised, glancing from Weston’s truck then to me before continuing what he was doing.
“Did you call him?” I ask incredulously.
“He would have killed me if he found out and I hadn’t,” he tells me, offering me the closest thing he had to a pleading look.
“Dammit, Rafe!”
Weston was the last person on this planet that I wanted to see right now after, especially given my current state.
I hop off of the tailgate as Weston pulls up next to our trucks, making my way back inside the stables.
“Hey man, what’s going on?” I hear Weston ask.
“Why don’t you ask Hailey,” Rafe answers, and I’ve never wanted to strangle him more.
I keep walking, pretending not to pay attention to either of them.
“Hailey,” Weston calls out, his boots crunching on the gravel as he catches up to me. “What’s going on?”
I’m almost to the stables when he grabs my arm, spinning me around to face him. I give up on hiding, tilting my chin up and facing him head-on instead. He looks down at me, studying my face and taking a moment to register what he sees. Whatever it is has his face turning stone cold, expression murderous.
“Who the fuck did this to you, Sorrels?” he grinds out through clenched teeth, his grip on my arm tightening.
“Let go of me, Weston.”
“Not until you tell me who did this. Was it Bradley?”
“Why does it matter!” I yell at him, reaching my breaking point. He had put me through a whirlwind of emotions in the last couple of hours, and I didn’t have it in me to deal with this.
“Because you should have called me!” he argues.
