Page 31 of Bronx

"Thanks to you, I think they have more hope than worry in their hearts right now. This clinical trial has given Vick a whole new attitude. He still talks about his will and what Mom and I should do with the ranch once he goes, but he spends far less time depressed and tired. Seriously, Layla, I don't know if you realize how much you helped him . . . us." I reached over and caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes as my fingers drew along her soft skin. "Layla," I started. Her phone pinged on the end table interrupting our moment. I wasn't sure if I was going to say any more than her name. She knew. She already knew how I felt about her.

Layla's phone pinged again. She sighed in frustration. "Probably someone trying to get me to cover their Sunday morning shift." She reached over to the end table and picked up the phone. She stared at it. Her lips turned down in a slight frown. Then she smiled.

"It's Gabe. At first, I freaked out thinking, oh no, he knows we're together at the ranch." She tapped the side of her head. "Then, ditzy broad that I am," she added in an east coast accent, "I remembered he can't see through the phone." Before I could suggest against it, she tapped open the message. Her face fell with another frown. "He texted that he needed me to see something." This time she tapped the screen with hesitancy. Instantly, I heard the scraping sounds that came with a video. Bulldozer's easy to recognize voice followed. His speech was slow and stretched from drinking.

"Hey, Tiger, I told Helix to save this video in the unfortunate event of my death." He hiccupped loudly. Layla's expression was frozen as if I was looking at a photo instead of the real woman. "So, if you're seeing this, then I guess I'm dead. How the hell did that happen?" Helix laughed in the background. They had obviously gotten stupid ass drunk one night, and Bulldozer suddenly had the brilliant idea to tape a last will and testament kind of thing. It might have been a joke to them at the time, but judging by the pallor of her complexion, it was no joke to Layla.

"Baby, baby," he repeated. "I love you. I'm sorry if I was an asshole husband, but you know, you know." There were a lot of pauses, where it seemed his state of inebriation was making it impossible for him to find words. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I want you to be happy." He hiccupped and it seemed the whole speech was over. Then another hiccup and he continued. "I want you to be happy but not Bronx. Fucking don't be thinking about Bronx. Find someone else. Not that I plan on leaving you, baby, ever. You're stuck with this big guy," his and Gabe's laughs mixed together, then the video ended. My phone pinged right then.

I wasn't interested in talking to anyone at the moment. The video had messed Layla up good. Tears were already beading on the edges of her lashes.

My phone pinged again. I grabbed it off the end table. It was a text from Helix.

"Saw you today when I went to my favorite breakfast place, Moonpie's Diner." Another text followed. "You and I need to talk."

"Fucking right we do," I texted back and tossed my phone across the room.

Layla looked up, the first time she'd moved since the video came through. She gazed questioningly at me through glassy brown eyes.

"Helix knows," I stated darkly. "He saw us at Moonpie's. Guess the secret is out."

"I'm horrible. I'm the worst. I can't do this." Layla jumped to her feet.

"Layla, let's talk about this," I called to her as she raced out of the room and up the stairs.

25

What had started as one of the best weekends of my life had devolved into shit. I had committed to watching the ranch until Sunday night. My parents planned to be home by six, so Layla and I could head back home for the work week. After Helix had destroyed the night with his texts and video, Layla had disappeared upstairs. She skipped dinner and turned down even a snack. I slept on the guest bed, although sleeping wasn't really the term for the tossing and turning that plagued me all night.

The sun was barely up and a dewy frost had covered the grass in the pastures. It wouldn't be long before the pastures were brown and the trees were naked of leaves. I pulled on my boots and walked to my bedroom door. I pressed an ear to it to listen for sounds, but it seemed Layla was still sleeping. At least she was no longer crying.

Tired and tense as I was, morning chores were just what I needed. A mouse scurried out of the feed shed as I opened the door. Two of the dogs gave chase, but it was only half-hearted. They knew that little critter would slip into a crevice long before they caught up to it. I heaved a bale of hay into the wheelbarrow and headed to the barn.

The horses began their morning chorus of whinnying and pacing as they anxiously waited for breakfast. The sounds and smells of the horse barn were always comforting, even when things in my life weren't going the way I wanted. That was definitely the case at the moment. I lost myself in the task of feeding horses for a few minutes, but all of it was still right there, at the edge of my brain reminding me that I'd lost Layla and probably for good.

It was obvious that the video was filmed while both Helix and Bulldozer were plastered. Bulldozer was so off his ass drunk he could hardly speak. But even slurred and slow, the words had huge impact on Layla. Her shoulders rounded, and it seemed she wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. She considered herself a bad person. The look on her face when she said those words cut right into me.

I finished feeding the chickens and headed back to the house. Mucking, removing blankets and turning out were chores for after breakfast, when the sun was up higher and the air had warmed. I'd had visions of Layla and I making pancakes on my mom's big griddle, a Sunday breakfast fit for a rancher. But those visions had been obliterated. No matter what happened next, I wasn't sure how Helix and I were ever going to come to terms with this. All I could think was how badly I wanted to plow my fist into the guy's face.

The dogs raced past into the house. I quickly found out what had them so excited. Layla was sitting on a dining room chair, clutching a cup of coffee. She gave each dog a hearty greeting, then returned to her coffee. Her eyes and nose were puffy and pink from crying. The anguish on her face reminded me of the day we met. Only on that day, I was anguished and she provided me with some comfort. I couldn't do the same for her. I was reeling on the other side of her anguish, now in utter limbo about where things stood between us.

"I can make some pancakes and eggs," I suggested.

She stared at her cup, not lifting her gaze. "I'm afraid I have no appetite. But don't let me stop you from breakfast. I can go back upstairs."

I swung around and said no far too sharply. At least it caused her to look up at me. The hurt in her eyes was even deeper than I expected. It felt as if someone had punched me in the chest.

"I mean, if you're more comfortable you can go back upstairs or anywhere you want," I said lamely. "I'm sorry I can't take you back home right now. I need to take care of the animals."

She was shaking her head as I spoke. "Being at home isn't going to make me feel any better. I just—I feel like my emotions have been run over the side of a cheese grater. Shredded, I feel shredded."

I pulled out a chair across from her and was relieved when she didn't pop up to leave.

"He was so drunk in that video, Layla, and—" I sat back. "Don't know what else to say about it. But I think he'd want you to be happy."

She pulled a tissue out of her sleeve and laughed quietly. "I'm turning into my grandma. She always kept a tissue tucked in her sleeve. I thought it was so gross and now here I am." She wiped her eyes and tucked the tissue back in the sleeve. "I should never have fallen for his trick. Back when we'd argued and he scoffed at the notion that I would take up with any of his workmates. I took the bait and gave him the name. Bronx, I told him. I'd said it so fast, he instantly started grilling me, asking me how long I'd been sweet on you. He even accused me of being unfaithful. I was so mad at him about it, we didn't talk for a week. Here he was flirting, grabbing and basically being unfaithful right in front of me . . . and others, our friends and people we worked with. It was humiliating, but I kept the anger inside. I thought maybe if I acted like I didn't give a damn he'd stop. Maybe he'd see that it wasn't triggering me and get bored of the whole thing." She laughed dryly. "That plan didn't work at all. He even got worse, more blatant." She sniffled and looked straight into my eyes.

For a second, I was lost in her brown gaze. For that fleeting moment we were back at this time yesterday before the video, before this whole thing had blown up.

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