Page 64 of For Fillies and Monsters

“Can you just trust me?” He turns on me then, his glittering eyes tracing over my face. It’s hard to trust someone I don’t feel like I know—but also feel like I know better than anyone. I sag, feeling defeated before I’ve even had a chance to fight. “Good.” Nodding, he goes back to cooking, and I stare at his back, a million questions sour on the tip of my tongue.

“Can you tell me more about your life before this?” I’m pushing him, I know, but I can’t help myself. I want to know everything about him. The dream, or rather memory, from last night is still replaying through my mind, like it was yesterday that I experienced it. I remember feeling like there was no way I would forget him, voice or face. But I had; it doesn’t take a therapist to understand it’s because I repressed the worst night of my life.

But what’s his excuse? Why doesn’t he remember it?

“I’ve always been a cowboy, a really good cowboy.” I wait, and he sighs, the fight deflating from him too. “Riding broncs, that’s the event I used to do, was like the most addictive high. I was good at it, and the fame and recognition were addictive, too. But no matter how good I was, I never could outrun the crash.Loneliness, imposter syndrome, being my brother’s door mat and meal ticket—they all weighed on me. And then, one day, I just snapped.” He turns then, his mask cracked, a look of insecurity peeking through.

“I broke my back two years ago and spent almost a year in the hospital recovering. I think it was my way of getting out. Lord knows my brother never would have let me. Hell, even once I was healed, he expected me to ride. But I quit, and then I found this place and your job, and…” Gus turns back around, and I wait.

Realizing he isn’t going to say more I lean forward, hungry to test a theory. “I’ve seen a lot of rodeos. Have I ever watched you ride, you think?”

“Maybe. I was all over.”

“Would you remember me if I had met you?” His back stiffens a little, but he doesn’t turn around.

“I’d never forget you.” It’s a strangled reply, but I hear it all the same. And yet, it’s a lie. Wehavemet, I remembered meeting him, here in Moztecha, ten years ago. It was the night I ran away from home—the night my life finally shifted in the right direction.

I open my mouth to challenge him further, push him to see if he is lying or truly forgot when the screen door crashes open. Craig strides in, primly dressed, eyes assessing the room as if he owns it.

Who the fuck does he think he is?

“Living with the trash, I see. You are the slut your father always said you would grow up to be—taking after your mother.” The words are a slap across the face, one I’m not prepared to take this early in the morning.

“What the—” My words are cut off by Gus’s growl. He prowls toward the doorway, and I have to scramble to grab his arm to hold him back. The muscles ripple beneath my touchwith pent-up aggression. We’re not doing this again, even if I’d like to see Craig handed his ass.

“Get. Out,” Gus spits.

“Control your dog,” Craig hisses, sneering down his nose at us.

Is he fucking serious right now?

“I do agree. You need to leave.” I say it with more conviction than I feel. He shoots me an oily smile, the kind that makes the hairs on my neck stand at attention.

“Just came here to let you know I went to the bank yesterday to get a run on your financial situation. The town really hates you. They will share anything who claims to want better for the ranch, even if it isn’t their information to tell.” He pauses, reaching up to rub the sharp jut of his chin.

“You are maxed out on the small loan you were even fortunate enough to get, and no one is willing to give you more. Even if they had been willing, I made sure they knew there was a better option out there for the town. No one will be willing to help you.” Craig’s smile grows with each word.

“Why are you doing this?” I will my voice not to sound shaky. Gus still stands between us, and I’m grateful for the barrier as I pull strength from his presence. If I were by myself, I don’t think I would be able to stand up to him.

“Because you took what was mine. My brother would have wanted me to have this place, not the slut his wife gave birth to. Certainly not for her to play house with the local trash in. It is mine. And I do not make idle threats.”

I am so sick of people threatening me and trying to control me. I make to step around Gus, but he stiffens, his hand brushing across my stomach.

“Get out,” I state dryly.

“She said, get out,” Gus growls, and Craig fixes hiscrow-like eyes on him.

“I also heard some very interesting gossip this morning, something about you being arrested? Did I forget to mention the calvary is right behind me, a warrant for your arrest in their hands?” His eyes turn on me once more, slicing through my dwindling composure. “You will be well and truly alone. Who will protect you when he’s behind bars?”

Craig turns around, leaving the room as boots can be heard on the deck outside.

He’s right. I’ll be alone once more, but this time, it’ll be worse. Because I’ll know what it feels like tonotbe alone now; to have someone who could have beensomething, even if that train of thought is irrational.

Anger, hot and sticky, erupts in my chest at the thought. Like a beat dog getting their first bone, only to have it ripped away.I’m furious.Furious at Nate, at Craig, at the police right outside, at Gus, at myself.

I’ve never relied on anyone, and now I’m realizing I can’t say that anymore.

“Augustus Dobbs, we have a warrant for your arrest. Come outside or we will come in after you.”

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