Page 173 of Ride the Sky

Eyes dark with tears, Dakota whips her head to Davis.

My brother’s expression transforms from confusion to rage. “Hedid that?”

I swallow the bile in my throat. “Yeah. He did.”

“Talk, Wyatt,” Davis demands, drilling a finger into the table in front of him. “Right now.”

Unable to sit still, I push up from the couch. I tell them what I told Fallon, explaining how Younger would hit the horses. How when I tried to intervene, he beat the shit out of me. How I’m afraid to send those kids to any of his training facilities except my own.

When I’m finished, I’m pacing. A blanket of tense silence falls across the room. Ruby sniffles. Reese wipes at her cheek.

Ford, gaze blazing, rips up off the couch. “Motherfucker. That piece of shit motherfucker.”

Reese stands and slips a hand over his shoulder like she’s restraining him.

All the while, Fallon keeps her fierce gaze on me, letting me know she’s here.

Color drained from his face, Ford tears a hand through his hair. “You were in that hospital for a goddamn week, kid. Hebroke your fuckin’ ribs, your—” Voice breaking, Ford can’t go on. He looks to Davis. “Younger’s dead. That motherfucker’s dead.”

Davis doesn’t disagree. No one does.

Charlie, a muscle in his beaded jaw pulsing, asks, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

I’m honest. “Younger was a big deal. I didn’t know if anyone would believe me.”

“We would have believed you.” Charlie’s deep voice is pained.

“I know that now.” I nod at Fallon. Emotion swirls in her hazel eyes. “She helped me see it.” All summer, my beautiful, resilient girl’s shown me how to face a fucked-up past. You can run, but you can’t run forever. Confronting it, turning pain into power, is what I have to do with Younger.

My girl’s made me brave. Braver than I’d ever be without her.

Eyes blazing, Davis rises from the couch, stepping into my space. He puts both hands on my shoulders. “You never should have gone through that alone. I’m sorry, Wyatt.”

I let out a rush of breath, my heart squeezing painfully. “Hell, it ain’t your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault but Younger’s.” I know that now.

Davis hauls me into a hug. “I’m still sorry.”

“It’s okay, man,” I mutter, crushed by his grip.

More arms come around us then, squeezing tight. My older brothers.

“Move over, assholes,” Fallon grumbles, worming her way through the tight cluster of muscle and men. Her slender arms wrap around my waist, and she buries herself against my chest. Just like that, the noise, the world, falls away. Just us.

Hand on my cheeks, she looks up into my eyes. “You did it.”

I grin. “Yeah, Trouble, I did.”

It’s strange to knock on the door of my father’s house. We’ve barely spoken in the last few months, both of us only sending brief texts when we need to check in. Wyatt opening up to his brothers last week changed something in me. If he can be brave, so can I.

Although, I hate being away from Wyatt. Especially today, when Younger will be at the ranch. But Wyatt told me to go, told me he has to do it himself. I’m so damn proud of him.

The front door swings open. My father’s eyes widen. A bucket is propped on his hip. “On my way to the barn,” he gruffs in lieu of greeting. “Take a walk?”

“Yeah.”

We walk down the steps to the small dirt path that winds its way to the barn. A chill’s in the air, reminding me summer is almost over.

My father glances at my cane. “Gettin’ on okay, seems like.”

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