Page 30 of Rough
As soon as I shut my door, I send Renee a text to warn her that people are starting to show up and she needs to have Remy deal with that shit. It’s not my problem. Not today.
Chapter Twelve
Wilder
Iwanted to talk to Betsy this afternoon, but hiding in the shadows while she talks to these two fuck heads only serves to piss me off more. Not that I think she’s doing something shady. It’s not that. It’s that they showed up to begin with.
After listening to her send both of them on their way, I see the guy named David get in his car and leave, stopping to pick up the other one on the way. Jogging over to the car, I wave them down.
“Guys!” I shout, and I’m thankful that this guy David drops his window and waits for me.
“Hey,” he says, confused by my interruption. “Can I help you, man?”
Panting, I brace my hands on my knees and give him my most genuine smile. “Sorry. Thanks for stoppin’. I’m Wilder Foxburg. I was gonna go talk to Bets, but saw you all there. Was there somethin’ you needed from her that I could help you with?”
“We’re all good, but thanks Wild.” Andy. That’s what Betsy called him. I want to know how she fucking knows this guy, but I know I have no right to ask.
Cocking my head to the side, I force a smile. “Do I know you?”
His grin drops when he grits his teeth. “Yeah, we went to school together. Not the same year, so it’s not surprising you don’t remember me. I’m Henri Boyd’s younger brother, Anderson Boyd.”
“Who’s Henri Boyd?” I ask. Honestly, I have no clue, but if the look on his face tells me anything, I probably should have some idea. Right at this moment, though? I don’t give a fuck.
Andy’s disbelieving laugh pierces my ears, but I keep a friendly smile on my face. “The mayor? I suppose you might not know since you boys have been gone a bit.”
Shrugging, I act like I don’t care and look at David. “What’d ya need with Bets? Maybe I can help out.”
My goal today wasn’t necessarily to help her out, but to find out what’s going on over here. Maybe to talk to her a bit, but I was going to cross that bridge if I came to it. Finding these guys here wasn’t expected, so I want to know what they’re up to.
This Andy guy is still leaning over the center console to look up at me where I’m leaning against the window, my arm resting over the top. “Betsy and I go way back. Used to date, if you can believe it.” He says it like I should be shocked that a guy like this would be with a girl like her. Iam, but not because I think she’s out of his league. Honestly, he’s out ofherleague.
I only blink at him, waiting for him to keep talking. David cuts in. “I’m in public relations and was offering my services to her. Doesn’t seem like she’s interested, but I don’t give up easily. You’re Wildlife, right?”
My head jerks back slightly. Then the smile on my face gets bigger,faker. “Iam. You know who I am?”
“I do. Watched the video where you all went at that woman back there like she was a piece of shit. Might want to rethink your PR rep. Seems they don’t have your best interest at heart.”
Finally, the easy smile on my face falls away. “It was a miscalculation. We didn’t know she was gonna post that shit.”
David waves me off. “You shouldn’t be letting anyone post anything without your approval first. We learn that shit within the first week of this job. They also cover it in college when we’re taught the legal side of things.”
“There’s college for social media?” I ask, taken aback by his advice.
He studies me, then sighs. “Check your PR’s credentials. You shouldn’t be having anyone run your team who doesn’t have the experience. You need anything else?”
“No,” I bite out, then stand up, pushing away from his car. I look back at the house, wanting to go knock on the door and make her talk to me.
“Good luck!” he shouts through the window before raising the window and driving off.
Walking down Betsy’s driveway, I secretly wish she’d come out of her house, but it doesn’t seem like there’s any life behind the windows. Her dog is laying on the front porch and lifts her head when she sees me.
Clyde told us when he visited a few days ago that our horses were in the stable, so I decide to head that way. Shutting the door behind me once I’m inside, I inhale the scent of hay and feed, then start walking down the aisle separating the stalls.
About halfway, I see Baron’s nameplate and open the door to his stall. My red and white stallion lifts his head when I walk inside, and a sense of peace overtakes me.
“Well, look at you! Been a long time, huh?” I ask, stepping inside. Betsy’s dog followed me into the barn, and I keep the door open long enough for her to make her way in the stall before I shut it. Squatting down, I reach my hand out and let Baron sniff my hand.
He’s lying in a fresh bedding of hay, blanket over his back. My eyes flow over him and I’m impressed with how good he looks. Betsy has been taking good care of him, and I know I owe her some thanks. Remy’s dad was stabling our horses as far as I knew since we left. He never mentioned moving them over to Harper’s farm, but it makes sense if everything else has transitioned over.
