Page 18 of Roped

Her lips twitch. “We’ve got more than beef. I think they call it a war.”

By “they,” I know she means the people of this town. The Grayson–Turner rivalry is pretty famous in Black Rock. Actually, it’s pretty famous in the whole state of Montana. Tales of our family feud have been horrifying and entertaining people for generations. Everyone who’s anyone knows if they ever started a joke with “A Turner and a Grayson walk into a bar,” there would be no happy ending to it.

“Well, there you have it then,” I murmur.

“But what they won’t say is that it’s a stupid war,” she says. “And it’s between stupid men who can’t break the toxic and violent cycle their ancestors started. I don’t have any particular interest in owning more land, do you?”

I shake my head slowly. “No.”

“And there you have it.” She shrugs. “There doesn’t need to be any beef or war between us.”

“That easy, huh.”

“That easy.”

I still stand there with my spine straight and my mind racing when Haven breaks the silence and continues, “Look, I don’t blame you for not trusting me or any of us. What’s happened this past week, it… wasn’t right. I don’t support it, and I don’t care if you’re a Turner or I’m a Grayson. I don’t care that we’re supposed to be enemies or whatever they want us to be. We don’t have to be best friends or share our deepest, darkest secrets. We don’t even have to talk to each other, but as long as you’re here, in my home, I consider it my duty to make your stay, forced or otherwise, as pleasant as I can. Which includes”—she raises her arms with the clothes—“giving you more clothes. Plus, there’s a little get-together happening in a couple of hours, and you’re definitely going to need something to wear to that.”

It surprises me a little, but I believe her. I believe this isn’t an act on her part. So I lose some of my rigidness and nod. She relaxes a little bit, too, and at my nod, she walks farther into the room and hands the clothes to me. I give her a small smile. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

She smiles back. “I hope they fit. I tried to find the closest size possible.”

“So what’s this party about?” I ask.

“Oh, it’s kind of a welcome home gathering,” she says. “For Arsen.”

“Ah, welcome back from doing time for attempted murder. Gotcha.”

She winces slightly. “I didn’t mean—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “There’s no love lost between my father and me.”

And there isn’t. In fact, if I’m being honest, I was kind of disappointed when I realized Arsenal Grayson didn’t finish the job. That it was an “attempted” murder and not just plain murder. Maybe that makes me bloodthirsty and evil, but I don’t care. I’ve seen enough of this world to know that sometimes monsters need to be killed rather than rehabilitated.

I can see Haven wants to ask me questions, but she doesn’t. She simply accepts my statement and says, “Well, everyone’s gonna be there. A lot of people from town, all the ranch hands, and…” She trails off, and somehow I know what she’s going to say. I know who she’s going to bring up. “And he’s going to be there too. I want you to know that you’re completely safe. From him. He won’t… do anything. He’s not even like that. He—”

“I’ll be there,” I say, cutting her off, my heart pounding. “Thanks for the clothes.”

I don’t need to hear about him, not yet. Not until I’ve gathered all of my senses and my courage. And then I plan to find out everything there is to know about my stalker.

CHAPTER SIX

“YOU OKAY?”

The question comes from beside me and I look away from the fire I was staring at to focus on my best friend. “Well, other than the fact that I was kidnapped last night and brought to the place of my nightmares, and now I’m attending a bonfire party at said place of nightmare, I’m fine.”

Reverie chuckles, and the dark shadows that I’ve been seeing on her face ever since I arrived this morning seem to go away for a bit. “Doesn’t look like the place of our nightmares, though, does it?”

Reverie and I grew up with the same stories, so she’s very familiar with the Rawhide ranch and the decades-long feud between the Turners and the Graysons. And she’s right. Rawhide does not look like what I expected either. Instead of dirt and blood and miles of ruin, there are rolling fields with cattle grazing in the distance, a big corral with horses trotting and circling, and of course, picturesque mountains on the horizon. All this aside from the giant mansion. There’s also a bunch of other buildings surrounding the main house, including stables, barns, and a bunkhouse for the ranch hands. It’s all very… normal-looking. Which, to be very honest, shouldn’t be a surprise. I mean, Wildfire is picturesque too. We also have barns with pretty red doors and rolling fields. Not as big as the Graysons’, but still. And yet, we’re rotten to the core. So why shouldn’t the Graysons live on a beautiful piece of land? Where they also throw bonfire parties complete with fabulous food and drinks and their ranch hands playing music.

“No,” I say, shaking my head, eyeing the crowd scattered behind the main house, which overlooks the rows of barns and woods in the distance. “And that makes everything even more dangerous. Who knows what they’re hiding behind this beauty.” I sense Reverie stiffening beside me, and I turn back to her. Studying her carefully, I ask, “Are you okay, though?”

She’s wearing borrowed clothes like me; her pair of jeans and oversized hoodie are basically what she usually wears despite me telling her repeatedly that she should change it up a bit. She’s got curves; she should own it. But the world is cruel like that and has made my friend wary and shy with its bullying. Anyway, she’s beautiful no matter what she wears. Her features are weighed down by unspoken worries now, though. And while I’ve asked her—again, repeatedly—if there’s anything she wants to share with me, she’s said no.

She throws me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes and tries to pull off an “I’m okay.”

I turn to her fully and lower my voice. “Because, Riri, if something has happened”—I lower my voice even more—“if he… did something to you, you know you can tell me. You know I’ll—”

She squeezes my arm, stopping me. “He didn’t do anything. I promise.” Then, “Well, except lie to me and drag me here.”