Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 143842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
A secret I’d been chained to.
One that had festered and decayed.
A rotted pit where I refused to go under.
So, I’d left Pruitt, praying I had enough on him that he would never dare try to touch me, all while feeling despicable that I didn’t have enough courage to actually use the evidence against him.
Hold him accountable.
Expose who he was.
Instead, I’d come here, free but a hostage. Captive to this fear. Trepidation and alarm roiling in my spirit. Constantly looking behind me waiting for my choice to catch up, for the veiled threats Pruitt had made to manifest as real.
“Watch out for him,” my father said, referring to Cody when he had no idea who was really the danger. “You know I don’t trust him.”
The warning rang between us, the memory of that summer when Cody had been working on his ranch so distant yet so distinct.
It was a time that was carved in the middle of me like the branding of scars.
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
Frowning, my father squeezed my shoulders tighter. “I always worry about you.” He hesitated, then pushed into the territory that I kept blockaded. “Pruitt called me. He’s worried about you, too.”
He might as well have driven a blade through the center of my chest.
I bit it back because my father didn’t know. I couldn’t blame him when I’d kept him in the dark. I did my best to keep it together when I said, “Pruitt doesn’t have a right to be concerned about me any longer.”
My father’s brow pinched. “I still don’t understand, Hailey. He is a good man. Provided for you and Madison. Loved you like crazy. And he still does. He’s worried sick about you. Maybe you should—”
“Please, don’t say it,” I cut him off. Disquiet jackhammered my heart, the beating so loud that it roared in my ears, thick as it pounded through my blood.
I wanted to confess it so he would understand. Tell him so he would stop urging me to go back to Pruitt, the way he had been doing since I’d left him.
Pruitt Russel had looked good on paper.
He had put on a dazzling front for my father that he’d been completely blinded by the same way as I’d been when I’d first met him.
Successful.
Rich.
Powerful.
My father had more than approved.
I guessed I’d been enamored, too. Glamoured, maybe. Blinded by the young owner of a gorgeous ranch in Austin, where I’d taken a position to work with horses, who’d taken an interest in me. I’d been desperate for anything that made me feel good after the tragedy that had befallen me here, and I’d all but run away in search of something better.
I’d somehow thought that was Pruitt.
But so many times what looked good on paper didn’t take into account what happened behind closed doors. Under the surface. In the secreted places that whispered of wickedness and atrocities.
“I need you to let it go,” I whispered.
My father’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and he slowly nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want to help you…fix this.”
Pain pealed through my insides, the clanging of chains, and I lifted my chin, refusing to look away when I said, “I already did.”
He ran his thumbs over my arms where he still held onto me. “Okay, we won’t talk about this right now.”
I wanted to tell him we wouldn’t talk about it ever.
It was dead and buried.
I would never go back to Pruitt.
But I figured I’d take what I could get right then.
“I’m really happy you’re doing so well here. That you’re back in your element.” His gaze was soft as he looked around the stables. “Though I still don’t understand why you refused to come and work for me.”
“I think it’s time I spread my wings a little bit, don’t you? Stood on my own?”
“It doesn’t have a thing to do with you standing on your own. I’m just jealous Cambrey Pines got the best stable manager in the west.” His smile was soft.
Affection swelled, pushing at my ribs. “Thank you, Dad. You really don’t know what that means to hear you say that.”
“I mean it.” He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “All right, I’d better let you get back to work. Bring Maddie by soon?”
“I will.”
He tapped the knuckle of his index finger on my chin. “Love you.”
“Forever,” I told him, and he turned and strode down the hall that led to the backside of the stables where the offices were located.
I watched him go, trying to regulate my breathing. To calm the riot that clattered through my being.
Only that riot erupted into chaos when my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see the message that was waiting.
It was only a number, the sender not in my contacts, but I knew who it was the second I read it.