Page 113 of Dirty Cowboy

“That’s why I said we needed to go see him tomorrow,” I explain.

“You said you loved me,” she whispers, shaking her head. “But love doesn’t lie. Love doesn’t keep someone from their dying father.” She glares at her brothers.

“I do love you,” I insist.

Tristan steps forward, his voice soft now, almost pitying. “Dad’s been asking for you. Every day.”

Emma gasps, her body shaking. “You son of a bitch— Both of you! You promised to text me every day. Now, you show up telling me he asked for me every day? Fuck you. You could have called or texted me at any time, and you know, I would have dropped everything. Stop trying to pin the blame for your actions on Eric.” Without another word, she turns and bolts for the door.

“Emma!” I move to follow, but Tristan’s hand clamps onto my shoulder, yanking me back.

“You go near her again,” he growls, his grip tightening, “and I’ll kill you.”

I wrench out of his hold. “You don’t get it. There’s more happening here than you realize. Huntz?—”

“Save it,” Tristan snaps. “We checked. Huntz isn’t a threat.”

But he is. I know it. I feel it in my goddamn bones.

“He’s here,” I insist, panic clawing at my chest. “I saw him yesterday. He’s been watching?—”

Julian’s fist slams into my ribs again, stealing the air from my lungs. I crumple forward, gasping.

“The only reason you’re still breathing,” Julian snarls, his face inches from mine, “is because we need to get Emma home. But this isn’t over.”

I kneel on the floor, blood dripping from my split lip, watching as they turn and leave to find Emma. The sound of their car pulling away sends panic surging through my veins.

Fuck.

I scramble to my feet, ignoring the throbbing pain in my ribs, pull on my boots and sprint out the door. I barely register the morning sun slicing through the cold air as I run to my parents’ house. My chest heaves, each step agony, but I don’t stop.

I reach the porch just as my mother’s sobs hit me like a physical blow.

“Mom?” My voice is raw. “Mom, what’s wrong? Have you seen Emma?”

She looks up, her face streaked with tears, her hands trembling. “Emma was here... Her brothers were looking for her too. She came crying, and we told her about Misty.”

Ice floods my veins. “What about Misty?”

Her lips part, but no words come out. Then, barely a whisper, she says, “Misty’s my daughter. She’s Huntz’s daughter.” Her voice cracks. “We didn’t know when she moved to town… she’s your half-sister. She’s the baby he stole from the hospital. Emma knows. She ran out to find her. Misty's still missing.”

The ground tilts beneath me, the world slipping sideways as the weight of my mother’s words crashes down. The baby I thought was lost—gone before she ever had a chance—was never really gone. She’s here. In this mess. In this nightmare. And Emma just ran straight into the fire to find her.

"What?" The word barely makes it past my lips, my throat closing.

A cold dread spreads through my stomach like ice creeping through my veins. If Huntz has Misty, he’ll use her to lure Emma.

I move before I can think, bolting for the door, but Grandpa steps onto the porch, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. He doesn’t even need to ask. He sees everything—the blood on my lip, the guilt in my stance, the chaos barely held together behind my ribs.

“What have you done, Eric?” His voice is steady, but the weight of it slams into me harder than any of Julian’s punches.

He settles onto the front steps, gripping a stack of old photographs in his trembling hands. I recognize them immediately. One of me as a kid, balanced on his shoulders, both of us laughing, his face full of pride. Another of us fishing by the lake, his hands guiding mine as I fumbled with the bait.

My chest tightens as I drop beside him, my legs barely holding me up. I’ve lied to him. Deceived him. Betrayed the man who taught me everything about what it means to stand tall and do right. And now, I’ve broken everything.

“Emma… She left me, Grandpa,” I choke out, the words burning my throat. The truth tastes like rusted metal, bitter and sharp. “I coerced her to pretend she was my fiancée to save the farm.”

His face darkens, his fingers tightening around the stack of photos. "What?"

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