Knotted (Trails of Sin 1)

Glowing with that smirk, he steps aside and tips his hat at me. “Catch you later, girl.”

Fighting the urge to run like hell, I measure my strides to the door and step into the night air.

A fat black cowboy truck sits beside my motorcycle, and reclining in the passenger seat is the other half of the Holsten twins.

Jarret watches me approach, leaning toward the dash to get a real good look. I expect him to jump out and intercept me.

He doesn’t. As I strap on the helmet, he sits in the truck with the windows rolled down and says nothing. The few feet that separates us might as well be 928 miles.

I’m just as guilty for putting that distance there. Nothing’s stopping me from asking him how he’s doing.

Except fear.

Fear of rejection.

I fire up the bike and head back to the motel. Going after Levi Tibbs on my own would be naive and reckless. But I’m certain I won’t be doing it alone.

Jake might not give a fuck about the pact, but he made it clear in the bar he’s not done fucking with me.

He’ll make sure I don’t leave town until I’m chewed up and spat out.

I park the truck beside Conor’s motorcycle at the motel and kill the engine. My pulse roars in my ears as I scan the single-story row of rooms and hone in on the only illuminated window.

There she is.

Curtains block my view of her, but shadowy movement flickers behind them. Is she pacing? Anxious? Or does she prevent herself from feeling things, even when she’s alone?

She thinks her emotions are incognito, but she doesn’t fool me. I see through the standoffish exterior, beneath the wounds and fractures, and deep inside the nucleus of her soul.

I know her blueprint. The intricate, complex design of her. My beautiful girl is still in there, kicking and spitting to break free, and I’m going to help her do that.

My methods may not be conventional, but I know her better than anyone. I know exactly how to reach her, and I’m highly motivated.

I’m fucking starving without her.

“She looks the same.” Jarret taps his fingers on the console between us. “Even prettier, if that’s possible.”

Pretty doesn’t even come close. There’s a distinctive something about Conor that no other woman has. Her physical beauty is indisputable and transcendent, but it’s more than that. The multi-layered facets of her nature, the intelligence in her green eyes, the charismatic, outspoken attitude—she’s a deep well of intrigue and allurement. A dangerously seductive woman. And she doesn’t even know it.

“She gave me the cold shoulder when she came out of the bar,” Jarret says. “I guess I deserve that, but she seemed especially withdrawn.” His voice hardens. “What did you say to her?”

“She ran into some of my mistakes.”

“Ah. Did you take care of it?”

“They won’t antagonize her again.”

Before I left the Big Sugar, I made sure every leaky mouth in the joint understood that Conor Cassidy’s here to stay. With me.

It’ll take more time and infallible finesse to make Conor understand that.

I return my attention to her motel room and consider what I’m about to do. This is the fulcrum on which our past and future come together in a dance of spinning, fighting, and forgiving.

Forgiveness is the biggest hurdle, but it’s not the only one. I need to deal with the boyfriend, her PTSD, her completion of veterinary school, and all the shit poisoning the ranch and our families.

I spent the last four years uncovering trails of deceit that stretch miles. The oil and gas drilling, the corruption in the cattle operation, the blackmail, and the bodies buried in the ravine—there’s so much she doesn’t know.

I’m prepared to tell her everything.

But not here.

I have two more threats to worry about. One will be released from prison in two weeks. The other one skipped town.

Her return to Sandbank is a risk, but my patience has run out. Her schooling’s almost complete, and I have a damn good handle on the danger against her. There isn’t a chance in hell I’m letting her go this time.

“Remember that time we locked her in the tack room?” Jarret glances at me, rubbing his jaw. “When the coyotes got past the fencing and killed all our calves?”

“I remember.” I narrow my eyes.

“She banged on that door for hours while we helped Dad clean up the slaughter. She was only what? Six? Seven? We didn’t want her to see the carnage or know what happened. But God, I can still hear her crying to get out. She didn’t understand why we locked her up. Didn’t know we were just trying to protect her.” He thumbs his ear, and his face tightens. “Sometimes I think we shouldn’t have made that decision for her.”

“Don’t do that.” I glare at him. “We have a plan. You were right there with me when we agreed on every detail.”