Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Warm bile climbs up my throat, and I hunch over, feeling nauseous.
“You all right, boss?”
“P—Porter?” is all I can get out.
“Randy showed them to him first.” There’s anger in Wade’s tone. “He took off.”
Now I understand why Randy is reveling in this. He thinks he’s hurting Porter with evidence of a deal struck on paper between our great-grandfathers. Gloating that Porter lost out on his family legacy. All because of envy mixed with addiction, a volatile combination. But not every alcoholic is a thief, which only makes him a despicable human being.
And now Randy thinks what? That when we lose Porter, he can fill his shoes?
I feel Wade’s hand on my shoulder. “I told Randy to wait for me outside the bunkhouse until I speak with you. But that didn’t stop him from spewing his venom to the other guys. And not only about the papers.”
He means about me and Porter sneaking around. But that revelation pales in comparison to the other. That my family took from Porter’s, turned the ranch into a thriving business while Porter’s family suffered and fell on hard times.
It no longer matters who knows about me and Porter—if there even is an us anymore. He’ll assume I’ve been hiding the information from him all this time. Porter will never be able to trust me again. And after this, I wouldn’t blame him.
In fact, maybe he’s already gone.
I square my jaw. “And?”
“Dunno. But I do know the men have been concerned about how erratic Randy’s been acting.”
Despair colors my vision as I spring up and stalk toward Randy. “You piece of shit! What gives you the right to search through our things and violate my family’s privacy?”
A flash of shock filters through his expression before he narrows his eyes. He was expecting a different reaction from me, maybe a bribe to keep the information on my family quiet, who knows? And at this point, it doesn’t matter. The Sullivan Ranch will be shaken by scandal one way or another. We either survive it or we don’t.
“Boss, I only wanted to—” But Randy’s pleading voice only stokes my anger.
“I’m not your boss anymore.” I jab a finger in his chest. “You’re finished. Get the fuck off our land.”
“I should’ve known you’d take up for your lover.” His face transforms with rage as his hands curl into fists. I haven’t even considered what this might mean for Pixie. But after this, there’s no way this man can continue to work for us. “You think he’s still yours after what you stole from him? No way he’s gonna want you anymore.”
Wade strategically places himself between us just as I step forward. “Now go on. Gather your things and be on your way.”
But Randy doesn’t pack up anything, just walks to his truck and tears off.
“What about Pixie, boss?”
“Fuck!” I pace with my hands linked over my head. “Not sure. First things first. I need to speak to my parents. For the record, I’ve never seen those papers before.”
I need at least one person to believe me, and I see in his eyes that he does.
“Ain’t none of my business anyway.” He looks toward the bunkhouse. “We’ll get going on the morning chores.”
“Thanks, Wade, for always being a good person and a loyal friend.”
As I head toward the house, my anger returns like an icy blow to my chest. It helps bury the worry and anguish as I focus on my parents’ part in all this.
Mom and Dad are still at breakfast when I step inside.
I toss the papers in the center of the table. “Care to explain?”
Mom shoots Dad a troubled look.
“Where did you get those?” Dad asks. “Were you rifling around in my desk?”
“I wouldn’t do that unless you asked—”
“Your mother set them aside so we could—”
“Randy stole them!” I fold my arms, as if that’ll keep all the pieces of me from flying apart.
“Stole—he went through our things?” Dad’s jaw clenches as he glances toward the living room, putting the events of last night together. “Where is he?”
“I fired him.” My gaze steadies on him. “Told him to leave after what he’s done. So that’s what he did. Went to his truck and drove off without collecting any of his stuff.”
Mom stands, alarm in her expression. “What about Pixie?”
My shoulders sag as I pace the room. “For now, she’s safe.”
Dad nods and points to a chair. “Will you at least sit down so we can explain?”
I shake my head and continue wearing a path in the floor. The burden of the truth weighs heavily on me. Are my parents even who I thought they were? This whole time I’ve been holding part of myself back, and they’ve been hiding this? “I don’t know how you think you can possibly explain—”
“We didn’t know!” Dad blurts.
“At least not until after your grandfather passed. We were planning to tell you eventually,” Mom adds, and now I’m curious if it’s the reason they agreed to talk later. “Now will you take a seat?”