Page 8 of Roughstock
He hesitated before he nodded and said, “Don’t get yourself in trouble, but I’d be grateful if you could see if anyone remembers Nitro stopping by, maybe who he visited.”
“I’ll see what I can find out. And please don’t worry. I’ll tell Roughstock what I’m doing, and once I explain it to him, he won’t be upset. He knows how things are up there.”
Life for Native Americans in the Dakotas was hard. We had land that was given to us by the government years ago, and the land was good, but only when it wasn’t frozen. Crops grow well in the soil, but there wasn’t much as far as utilities outside of the cities, and the grocery stores in the rural areas were sad with limited products, higher prices, and periods of time without fresh deliveries. In winter, they had to depend on the wild game they hunted and preserved to get them through the harsh times.
They were also looked down on by those outside the tribe. I didn’t even want to get into all that mess, but I believed my saving grace was my resemblance to my dad. I had his eyes and wavy hair, and I was more fair-skinned than my cousins. I never felt excluded from the tribe, but I could see how different I was from them, and sometimes, it stung.
Warhol stood and simply said, “Thanks, Cheyenne,” before he turned and walked away, leaving me alone at the end of the bar.
Comet was joking with some of the other brothers as I ducked under the bar and walked down the hallway leading to the stairs. There were ten bedrooms upstairs for brothers to crash, and Trent kept one for nights when he had too much to drink. We’d crash here instead of driving the eight miles to the ranch. I used my key to unlock the door then closed and locked it behind me.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pulled my cell from my back pocket and dialed Granny. She picked up on the third ring with her cheerful voice. “My beautiful granddaughter, to what do I owe the honor?”
I laughed, knowing she said that every time I called, even if it was multiple times a day. “I wanted to see if you felt like going for a ride on Saturday when I’m up there. I need to speak with the people over at Quincey’s and thought you might want to get out of the house.”
“Why do you need to speak with them?” she inquired, and I wanted to lie to her but never had and never would.
“Trent found a receipt in his dad’s stuff from a few days before he was attacked, and I wanted to see if anyone remembered him coming up there,” I explained and heard her clear her throat.
She and Nitro got along well, and when he died, Granny and a few of my cousins came to his funeral. Seeing her dressed in black, mourning Nitro and supporting Trent, had been reassuring.
“That was three years ago. I doubt anyone will remember him after all this time.”
“It can’t hurt to try, right?” I asked, and she sighed.
“Just don’t get yourself in trouble. I’m too old to get into a fight,” Granny joked, making me laugh at the visual.
We talked for another few minutes while she gave me her grocery list, and I told her I loved her before we hung up. With so much loss in my life, I always said those words to the ones who matter, just in case life decided to throw a curve ball and wreak havoc.
Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I moved to the door to go back downstairs, and when I opened it, Trent was standing in the doorway, filling it with his presence and enormous size. I yelped, grabbed my chest in fright, and stumbled back. He caught me just as I was about to fall onto my ass.
“Sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just looking to see where you ran off to,” Trent said as he pulled me tighter against his hard body.
I wrapped my arms over his shoulders and rested my forehead against his chest, trying to get my heart to stop beating so fast. When I was a little calmer, I lifted my head and saw he was looking down at me with a smile.
“Are you finished with your meetings?” I asked, and he nodded.
“I spoke with everyone who I needed to tonight, but I got stopped on my way up here to find you.” His eyes were hard to read as I waited for him to continue. “Warhol told me you know where the receipt is from.” I nodded, and he lifted his chin once. “Were you gonna tell me you’re going to speak with them about Pops?”
I pecked him on the lips. “I didn’t have a chance to speak with you since you were busy, but I was going to tell you on the drove home. You know no one will speak with him, butGranny said she’ll go over with me on Saturday when I take her groceries and see what they remember.”
He tugged me impossibly closer and said, “I don’t want you in the middle of whatever this is. Hell, I don’t even know if the receipt has anything to do with him getting killed or not.”
“Then there isn’t any harm in asking. The worst they’ll say is they don’t remember. The best is maybe a lead on who’s responsible,” I reasoned, and he shook his head.
“You’re something else, you know that?”
I shrugged with a smile. “I’m just me.”
“And that’s enough for me,” Trent replied as he stepped farther into the room, causing me to retreat with our bodies pressed together.
He kicked the door, slamming it closed behind him as he brought one hand up to the back of my head, and with his meaty fist, he gripped my black, wavy hair and pulled my head back, exposing my throat to him.
I felt my panties get damp from his forceful actions, and when he leaned over, kissing me until we were fighting for breath, I knew he needed my submission to bring himself back to level.
One thing I learned about him in all the years we’d been together was when he felt like things were spiraling and he wasn’t able to gain control, I could submit to him, allowing his manly needs to take center stage, and most of the time, he was able to bring himself back right again.
As I began to unbutton my pants, he lifted my shirt over my head, and after I pushed my jeans and panties to my ankles, I placed my hand on his chest and began to lower myself, keeping my hand on his chest and my eyes on his until I was fullyon the floor. Then, I lowered my head and allowed my hand to trail down his toned body.
