Page 11 of Chaos

Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. There’s alwayssomething.

“How’s your ankle”

“It’s fine,” I lie, and I swear the swollen joint throbs a little harder in reprimand.

“That’s good.” Eliza bumps her hip against mine. “Can’t really be a ranch hand with a bum ankle, right?”

“Right.”

Right. That’s what I am now. A good ol’ hired hand. Another one of Serenity’s hardworking employees. The work is hardly new to me—I’ve spent more than half of my life shoveling horse shit, just without the fancy title. It’ll be just like old times.

Except… not.

“You know,” Eliza starts in that rushed, animated way that makes it sound like she won’t be stopping for a while, and I brace for impact. “Charlie and Simon are still around. Only part-time, though. And there’s a bunch of new hands too. Had to hire them after the expansion ‘cause with Jackson not working as much and Grace and Hunter gone, we needed the help.Ineeded the help. I’m kinda the unofficial boss, y’know? Well, when Lux isn’t around, obviously. I’m like the second-in-command. I—”

Woah, motormouth, I’m about to cut in.Kill the info-dumping. Can’t keep up.

Someone else’s hollering beats me to it. Draws my gaze back to that truck I don’t recognize and the equally unfamiliar man in the driver’s seat, leaning out the rolled-down window and summoning us over with a crook of two fingers. “C’mon,boss,” the stranger calls teasingly, and I glance aside just in time to catch my sister’s cheeks turn pink. “I’ve got a date with a hot blonde, and you know she’s impatient.”

Eliza fuckinggiggles.

Abandoning me in favor of skipping towards this mystery man, she flicks the brim of the Stetson balanced atop his head. “Sorry, Finn.” With her back to me, I can’t see her face, but I can imagine her lashes fluttering hard enough to get a breeze going. “Think you can help Lottie with her bags?”

“I’m good,” I insist, but it’s futile. The car door’s already opening, a tall, bulky body already unfolding itself from the interior. Reaching for the bag attempting to add a broken shoulder to my lengthy list of problems with one hand, he slips his hat off with the other.

And while most of my energy is currently being channeled into being pissed the hell off that Lux sent some random guy to pick me up from rehab, I momentarily get distracted as I crane my neck and squint against the sunlight to get a better look at the stranger.

Suddenly, I get it. The giggling. Back during the phase of my life when good-looking guys were actually something of a priority to me, I probably would’ve fucking giggled too.

Dark brown skin. Tight, black curls cropped short. Eyes such a deep shade of brown, I can practically see my reflection in them. Not quite stocky, not lean either—a happy middle that I briefly, misguidedly considerperfect. He flashes a toothy smile and shit, a set of dimples distract me even more, and I find myself reciprocating the handshake he initiates before I can think better of it.

“Finn Akello,” he introduces himself, his voice low and smooth. “I work at Serenity.”

Well,yeah. I can tell. The hat gave it away, as did the worn Wranglers molded to his lower half, the mud-encrusted boots on his feet too. And if the outfit didn’t clue me in, the hand clasping mine would. A rough hand—aranchhand.

My new co-worker.Ha. At least the hard work comes with a good view.

Snatching my own hand back, I drag my palm over the rough denim of my skirt and wonder if that tingling sensation is just in my imagination. “Hi,” I greet a little too…huskilybefore clearing my throat. “I’m Lottie.”

The corner of a full mouth lifts as a strong chin dips. “I know.”

“Hm.” As the guy,Finn, dumps my bag in the bed of his truck, I lean against the dropped tailgate. “My reputation precedes me.”

Those dark eyes flick to me for a single second. “Yup.”

If I didn’t know any better, if it weren’t for that smile, for the way he circles around the hood of the truck to open the passenger door for me politely, I’d swear there was a bite to that word. Like he knows plenty about my reputation,thatreputation, the awful one.

Like I said; this is already shit.

With every mile closer I get to Haven Ridge, the urge to vomit increases.

Eliza’s chatter is a nonstop buzz echoing around the truck’s interior, but I don’t hear a word of it. I barely even register her presence, or the man beside me who splits his time betweenindulging my sister’s word-vomit and humming along to the radio. I’m too busy abusing my poor fingernails some more and staring out the window as we enter middle-of-nowhere territory.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen so much open green space. I missed it, I can’t deny that, but I don’t feel any relief at the sight of it. I can’t. I have no room for anything but anxiety because I have no idea how this is going to go. This upcoming family reunion. There are a million possibilities, and all of them are pretty damn grim.

I’m not naive enough to think Jackson is going to welcome me back the same way Eliza did. It won’t be like it was with Lux either, he won’t be calm and firm even though that’s always what my brother has been, the cool-headed good guy. The last time we saw each other, he broke that mould—Ibroke it. We yelled and screamed and said horrible things, things that creep up and smack me upside the back of the head every so often, things I dwell on in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep.

And Grace. How’s my twin going to react to seeing me? How amIgoing to react to seeingher, to seeing my face on a kinder, happier, better person? We fought too. We never fight, but we did before I left, she knew I was leaving and she was so damnmad, and—

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