Page 169 of Ride the Sky

At the chime of the door, I look up. Wyatt slides across from me in the booth. His face is pale.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah.” He swallows. “Younger’s scheduled to be at the ranch next week.”

“Shit.” I reach out to squeeze his hand. “What can I do?”

His eyes clear. “Nothin’. We got more important things to worry about.”

“Like what?”

A muscle twitches in his jaw, and he pins me with a hard, murderous stare. “Like finding Pappy.”

“This is fuckin’ bullshit,” I grumble, storming into the Bullshit Box. The door slamming shakes the wall. Keena barks. My brothers stomp after me.

“Relax, kid.” Ford puts a hand on my shoulder as if restraining me. “We’ll get him.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Charlie says, “we want to kill him as much as you do.”

I roll out my neck. It does.

Chairs squeak as we all settle at our respective desks. Outside, a tractor putters across the field.

This afternoon, my brothers and I went to Pappy’s ranch, only to be hit with the news that he’s on the road for the next week. Just like the asshole. Hiding out like a fucking coward.

“You go again, you don’t go without me,” Davis demands, leveling a stern finger. “Someone’s gotta keep your ass out of a jail cell.”

“Fat fuckin’ chance.” On a growl, I slam a fist in my palm. “I want Pappy shot in the head and then skinned, and then I’ll make a pair of cowboy boots out ofhis fat fucking hide.”

“Heartless,” Ford says with a smirk.

When it comes to Fallon, yeah, I’m a fucking maniac.

Ever since Weston’s reveal, I’ve got blood on the brain. Pappy’s blood. Because that piece of shit is beyond fucked. He’sthe reason Fallon got hurt that day. Beating his ass is going to be a goddamn beautiful way of making sure he never messes with the rodeo or my girl ever again.

Charlie passes me a beer from the mini fridge and nods at the hammered gold band on my hand with its distinctive markings. “That ring’s got you seein’ red.”

Ford kicks his boots up on the desk. “That ring’s got him ready to bury another body.”

My eyes narrow in suspicion. “Another?”

Davis groans and needles his brow. “Ford, you asshole.”

Charlie suddenly seems way too occupied with the label on his beer bottle.

“Okay, you dicks.” I glare at my brothers. “Stop doin’ this shit. Shuttin’ me out.”

Guilty glances make the rounds among my brothers.

Ford spins his baseball cap around, shakes his head at Davis. “C’mon. Tell the kid. We owe him that.”

Davis and Ford have some sort of psychic twin stare-down. Finally, Davis sighs. “Valiante’s buried near the falls.”

My eyes bug. “Holy fuck.” I swing my gaze between Charlie and Davis. “Who…?”

Charlie leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “Doesn’t matter.”

Grinning, I look at Davis. “How’d it feel?”

---