Page 25 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy
Jace and I had a deal: I’d get the job done, get paid and skedaddle, no questions asked. I’ve fulfilled my obligation—my work here is done. Iron Stallion has never been safer; even the Pentagon can’t compare. Jace has also fulfilled his end of the bargain; all the money he owed me was deposited into an offshore account under one of Sienna’s aliases yesterday, so we’re all good.
But still, I find myself dragging my feet when it comes to making my exit. Why? It’s not like I’ve made any friends here. Jace and I barely talk unless it involves work, his family and I are mostly civil with each other, and I’ve mostly stuck to my duties, bedroom, and office.
Still I don’t want to go. I feel as though the moment I step out of these gates, I’ll be back to running for my life and looking over my shoulder. At least in this ranch I’m safe, but how do I stay in a place where I’m no longer needed?
Reality hits me like an ice cold bucket, and I know that I need to leave. I’ve stayed as long as I could, so now it’s time to finish packing and move on. Hopefully Sienna will have something else planned for me.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab my phone and dial my best friend. She picks up on the second ring, her voice tight, like she’s been waiting for this call. “Tess... we’ve got a problem.”
My heart drops into my stomach. That tone can only mean one thing, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions. “What kind of problem?”
She sighs, and I picture her pinching the bridge of her nose like she always does before giving me bad news. “Richard’s out. He posted bail this morning.”
The room tilts. No. No. No. This cannot be happening. He’s already done so much damage while behind bars. What will happen to me now that he’s a free man? I am dead. So dead.
I sit hard on the edge of the bed, the phone slick in my hand. “You’re joking.”
“I wish I was. You know I’ve been keeping tabs on him.” She inhales deeply, and I realize that she’s not done with the bad news. “And that’s not the worst of it.”
My hands start trembling, and I’m scared of my next question, but I need to know. “How can it get worse than him getting out?”
“Word is, he’s looking for you. He already knows that you left Washington, but he doesn’t know to where yet. He hit our old apartment again and set it on fire. Thankfully no one was hurt, but he clearly meant to send a message,” she explains.
The air in my lungs turns to ice. My pulse hammers in my ears, loud enough that I almost miss her next words. “I know the contract is over, but you can’t leave Iron Stallion, Tess. Not now. You’re safe there—safer than anywhere else.”
This is what I was praying for—a chance to stay—but not like this. Richard is going too far. Who sets a building on fire to send a message to one person? Well, message received.
“But how can I stay when I don’t have anything else to do here? My work is done,” I remind her. “All my bags are packed and ready to go,” I admit, staring at my open suitcase strewn around the room I’ve been calling home for the past month.
“You better start unpacking, then, and find a way to stay there,” she insists.
I bite my lip so hard I taste blood. How the fuck am I supposed to do that? Jace is expecting me to leave, and I’m not about to beg him to let me stay when he hates my guts for lying to him. Or can I?
“Can’t you find another place for me to go? I really can’t stay here, Si,” I plead.
“I know you don’t like it there, but it’s the only choice we have. But I’m looking—if I find something better, I’ll let you know. For now, stay there,” she asserts.
There is no arguing with her, so I hang up, but I don’t move. The silence of the room presses down heavy, broken only by the tick of the clock on the dresser. Tears well up in my eyes, but I hold them in. How am I supposed to convince Jace to let me stay? He’ll ask too many questions that I don’t have answers to.
But I also can’t leave. Where would I even go? Richard’s out there, circling like a shark that’s tasted blood, and if he finds me before I figure out my next move... God, I can’t even finish that thought.
My fingers drum against my thigh, restless. I know that Sienna is right—Iron Stallion is the safest place I’ve been since this whole mess started. But my contract is up. Jace expects me to vanish, and the idea of asking him to let me stay feels absurd. Why would he keep me around?
Unless...
A thought flickers, ugly and tempting. I could sabotage something. Leave a backdoor in the system, pretend the audit’s not fully clean. Buy myself more time under the guise of finishing the job.
The idea makes my stomach churn. Lie to Jace, after everything? He gave me a second chance after discovering that I was here under a false identity, and now I’m thinking of lying to him all over again. Where is my shame?
I press my palms to my eyes, breathing hard. My chest aches with the weight of it all: the danger outside, the emptiness of leaving, the helplessness of not knowing what the hell to do next.
I shove the suitcase shut just to stop it staring at me, but the sound of the zipper rasping across fabric feels like a guillotine blade dropping. I jump to my feet, but my legs won’t stay still. I pace the room, back and forth, until the floor creaks in complaint under my boots.
The late-afternoon light slants through the blinds, throwing stripes across the floorboards. Dust motes drift lazily in the sunbeam, utterly unconcerned with my unraveling. I want thatkind of peace—floating, weightless, unbothered—but my body buzzes like it’s wired wrong.
My mind races with options that all taste like ash. Run, hide, beg, lie. None of them feel good enough.
All of a sudden, the walls feel like they’re closing in. I need to get out of here before I pass out. So I push out of my room, footsteps echoing in the quiet hall. The ranch house is calm, too calm, the kind of silence that sharpens my nerves. From the window at the end of the corridor, I glimpse the paddocks spread wide and golden, horses moving slow in the heat, tails flicking lazily at flies. Out there, the world feels steady and eternal. In here, I’m drowning in decisions I can’t make.
