Page 9 of Wildest Forever

I take another mouthful and lift a shoulder, “I think it's okay.”I mean I have had better, but I am not about to tell a dying man that.

“This place is only going to get worse,” he scowls as he places his mug back down.

“Blossom Cove?”

He shakes his head.“All of it, son, it’s all fucked and I dread it for the generations to come.”

I nod.

Because what he is saying is not a complete lie, but I don't want to deter from the conversation, I want to know what he wants.

There is a reason that he called me here.

“What did you need me for?” I ask him the question again and wait for him to answer me this time with an actual answer.

“I need you to do something for me.”

I nod, rolling my lips as I twist my mug around trying to keep my hands busy.

Nervousness blooms in my chest and it's making me antsy. My stomach is knotting and coiling and nausea threatens to ripple through.

I'm no good at being nervous.

Hate it.

I end up blurting shit out that I really don't need to, and I have caused some major issues because of my anxiety but I'm not about to rip that band aid off.

I wait for him to continue, his breaths growing ragged.

“This is all I have,” he holds his hand out, palm side up as he moves it around the room.

I nod again.

“I need it kept safe, need you to get these suits off my fucking back. They're like damn backpacks and it doesn't matter how much I shrug those bastards off, they tighten around my shoulders.”

“I can do that,” I smile, “I am fighting them for my land too so one more ranch won't hurt,” and his eyes flit away before they're back on me.

“Then there is the matter of my Morgan,” and I swallow down the lump that has presented itself in my throat.

“Morgan?” and I know who she is.

The pretty blonde cowgirl that rode into Rivera Ranch like a princess.

She has plagued my thoughts for a while but not for reasons you may think.

“Yes,” he sucks in a deeper breath.

“What about her?” my tone is curt, but I don't mean for it to be.

I'm tired.

“I need you to look after her too,” he leans across the table so I match him, leaning into the middle, elbows resting on the surface.

“Okay, so watch the house, watch Morgan,” I nod, making a mental note.

“It's not just looking after her Sheriff Rivera,” his throat bobs and I see the tears line his bottom lid and my heart twists in my chest.

“No?” I breathe, brows raising in my head as I gaze at him now, too scared to lift them from his empty, blue eyes.

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