Page 201 of Ride the Sky

He’s right. They will. There’s no way they’d miss our truck on the side of the road on the way home from Nowhere. If I know one thing, the Montgomery brothers will raise hell to find us.

Still, how much time do we have? Where are we? Why the fuck is Tripp doing this?

I’m trying to put it all together in my whirling brain when a door creaks open.

I freeze.

At the sound of boots on the stairs, Wyatt’s expression turns uneasy. We lock eyes, rise together. I wonder which one of us will go crazy first.

“Good morning,” Tripp says as he walks into the room. He’s in his outfit from last night. In his hands, there are two bottles of water. Looped around his belt buckle is a key ring.

Wyatt grips the wire of his cage tight and gives Tripp a look more vicious than any of mine. “You’re dead,” he swears. “You’re fucking dead.”

Tripp ignores him, barely sparing Wyatt a glance as he passes his cage and moves to mine.

“Nice place.” I try to tamper my resentment, my rage, but I can’t. It spews out of me. “It’s veryAmerican Psychoof you.”

Tripp chuckles, setting a bottle of water near Wyatt’s cage. “That’s a good one, Fallon.” He looks at me through the wire. “I knew you’d hate it, but what could I do?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe not put me in a fucking cage?” I shout, and my voice echoes in the basement.

“C’mon, cowgirl.” Tripp grins, so innocent it’s enraging. “Let’s work this out.”

“Don’t call me that,” I hiss. The only one deserving enough to call me that is Wyatt.

“You’re safe here, Fallon. I just want to talk.”

“So talk.” I jerk my chin at Wyatt. “And let him go.”

Wyatt growls. “Fallon.”

“You hit him,” I say, ready to dig the man’s eyes from his sockets. “You hurt him.”

Tripp looks insulted. “I couldn’t hit you. Not with your migraines.”

“How fucking nice of you,” I say dryly. A stalker with a conscience. Hysterical laughter bubbles in my throat, but I choke it down.

“Where is it?” Wyatt demands. Urgency tightens his shoulders, his voice. “Where’s my fucking wedding band?”

“Wyatt,” I hiss. “That’s the least of our problems.” To Tripp, I say, “Why? Why am I here?”

Tripp shrugs. “I thought it was obvious. I love you.”

It’s said so calmly that bile rises in my throat. My heart races in my ribcage.

Wyatt swears low under his breath.

The key slides into the lock, and I flinch.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” Tripp says, which terrifies me. He continues. “I have always loved you, Fallon. You made me come out of my shell, you protected me, you were my only friend.”

The door swings open, and Tripp steps inside. He glances at Wyatt then back to me. “If you try anything, I kill him.”

I dip my chin in acknowledgment. Back up as he enters deeper. My breath is panicked. My cell is too small, too tight.Nowhere to go.

“The first time I saw you on a horse, you were like a goddess.Do you know how long I have loved you, Fallon?” I cringe as he steps closer. “Since fifth grade.”

“That long, huh?” Despite wanting to puke, I force myself to make conversation. In my periphery, Wyatt paces his cage like a prowling lion. Tracking our movement. His eyes full of rage and worry.

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