Page 15 of Chaos

I try again. “I’m the new hand.”

Their confusion doesn’t ebb.

“Ranchhand.” I cock my head, and a hip and a brow too. “Y’know, a professional shit shoveller?”

Someone snorts.

“We didn’t know Lux was hiring.” The blond one shoots his snickering, dark-haired friend a sharp look. “You sure you’re in the right place?”

Oh, how I wish I wasn’t.

Ignoring the question, I fire back one of my own. “Do we all have our own rooms or is this, like, a communal bunkbeds kind of place?”

“You’re in the attic.”

My gaze flits behind my roomies, landing on the occupied doorway. “Just like old times, hey, Oscar?”

Jackson is not amused. He left the baby back at the ranch, but Finn, he brought with him. Finn, who hangs his hat on a hook on the wall before striding my way, hoisting up my bag, and starting towards the staircase without a word. And though I’m loath to stay here, lingering in the awkward, curious tension, I’m not exactly keen to follow him.

I don’t want to be trapped in the attic. I don’t want to think about the one I used to live in, not the same, but in all likelihood not very different, missing the twin I shared it with. I don’t want to deal with the inevitable surge of memories; I don’t have the energy.

So when Jackson sighs my name and jerks his head towards the porch, I begrudgingly follow him outside.

Clutching my beer like a lifeline, I drop onto the steps beside him. “Go on, then.” I sigh dramatically. “Let me have it.”

He doesn’t. He sighs too. He lets the silence drone on until it makes me itch—probably the very reason he does it—before eventually firmly stating, “It’s not gonna work like this, kid.”

I try to sip my drink in lieu of answering only to have it snatched away.

“Really, Lottie?” He shakes his head as he takes a slug. “You don’t even like beer.”

No, I don’t, but I didn’t see any wine in that fridge, and beggars can’t be choosers. “Maybe I have changed.”

“Have you?”

I don’t answer.

Swallowing thickly, I lean back and stare at the star-speckled sky. “I know this wasn't your idea. I know you don't want me here. Trust me, I don't wanna be here either. I just wanna get through the next six months and then you never have to worry about me again, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jackson drawls sarcastically. “‘Cause that’s how that works.”

“Were you worried when you told Lux she shouldn’t bail me out?”

“I saidsheshouldn’t. I didn’t wantherto go.”

“Because you knew she would try to bring me home.”

“Because I knew it would hurt her.”

I scoff, but even to my own ears, it lacks any real venom.

“What, you think the past couple of years have been easy on her? Fuck, Lottie, do you know what it was like for her to realize you were gone and no one knew where you were, if you were okay? She was devastated. She cried for a month straight.”

I hate how very hard I find that to believe.

“You broke her heart, Lottie.”

“If you’re trying to guilt me into submission—”

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