Page 11 of Reins

Including me.

Shaking my head, I try to get rid of the past and finish my drink. “I am getting sick of being stonewalled, Pete. Before Wade finds out I’m here, I need to push the damn limits. I’m sure John and Eli know I’m around now with Max telling them. Maybe it’ll rattle them enough that they mess up?”

“Or they’ll push harder,” he grunts, staring at his glass. “You think they’re doing this because of you?”

Fuck. It’s like a gut punch.

All this bullshit against my brothers over what I did?

I did kill John and Eli’s sister, and it’s a weight I’ll always have to bear.

But the rest of my family had nothing to do with it. I even made sure Dad pulled my name out of the trust before I left, just so there’d be zero for the Baileys to try and sue for.

That was one of the hardest days of my life, signing away my future so soon after losing the woman I thought I was going to build one with.

I knew I had to do what I could to protect the people I still cared about, even if they hated me.

It also puts a new fire under my ass to bring them to justice.

“Well, if they want me so badly, they can have me. You think it’ll end there though?” I grit through my clenched jaw.

His sarcastic snort answers me.

“That’s what I thought. I’m heading back to Texas tomorrow to bring back my horse. The best way I know to get onto the Triple Bar ranch is through the high country behind them. I’m gonna crawl so far up their ass they’ll wipe my nose when they sneeze.” And who knows? Maybe I’ll catch one of them on their own, and—

“Don’t do anything stupid, Cade. I can only protect you so far.” It’s almost as if Pete is reading my mind.

“They’re the only ones who know I’m here. If I put a little bit of the fear of God into them, they might just back off the rest of my kin.” I shrug then stand to move to the kitchen and rinse my glass out in the sink.

“Or you’ll start a fucking war,” he mutters, reaching for the bottle.

I pause at the door, my palm on the handle. “Either way, this ends.”

Chapter 7 - Rosalyn

Two factor identification is making me want to scream. Digging through notebooks, I finally find the password for the ancient email address I used to set up my bank account four years ago when I turned eighteen.

I can’t even remember the last time I logged into this thing. It’s not like I use it often.

But I’ve been slowly stashing money in since I opened it, and I want to see if I have enough to escape.

Three hundred emails? Oh my god.

Most are junk. Yet one catches my eye.

Why is Val reaching out to me? I barely knew her. She was married to a friend of John’s. It’s not like we hung out. Shit, I was just a teenager the last time I saw her.

Just touching base?

What does that even mean?

Even after sending off a polite response, it still sits with me as I head downstairs to get some coffee.

“Morning, Sal. What’s with the grumpy look?” John’s blond brows raise as he glances up from his phone.

“I got a weird email. Do you remember Val? I think she’s married to Chris?” Damn it. No clean cups in the dishwasher either.

Digging one out of the sink, I start funneling dirty dishes into the racks as I scrub.