Catch Twenty-Two (Westover Prep 2)

But the second I climb out of my truck, I’m hit with the same sight I’ve been forced to suffer through daily. It’s a different kind of pain than the one I face at home, but it’s brutal, nonetheless.

Rowdy is standing so close to Frankie in the center of the barn he might as well be her damn t-shirt.

“Wow,” he all but fucking purrs next to her ear. “Look at these muscles.”

Frankie grins up at him as the asshole playfully squeezes her bicep.

If he says one word about the muscles she’s built in her ass and thighs over the last month that can’t go ignored, I’ll choke the fucker.

He’s been on the ranch for a week and a half, and in that short period of time those two have grown as thick as thieves. They’ve become quick friends, chatting and joking with each other incessantly, but he has the ability to make her smile when all I’ve managed to do is increase the depth of the frown line between her brows.

They don’t even bother to acknowledge me when I walk up. They’re too focused on each other, so I grunt out a “good morning” and head for the tack room. I won’t give either one of them the pleasure of knowing how much seeing them always whispering with their heads bent low bothers me. That knowledge would give both of them power, and since I’m already helpless in every other area of my life, it’s one thing I refuse to relinquish.

“What’s the plan for the day?” Rowdy asks, and I’m shocked he’s been able to pull his attention from Frankie long enough to speak to me.

Instead of throat punching him like the muscles in my arms are urging me to, I turn to face him. The man is technically my boss after all, and as hard as it’s been to watch him take over as if my dad never stepped foot inside this barn a day in his life, I still need this job. We have no savings, no prospects of a better job, and Mom hasn’t worked outside of the house since she was a teenager. The medical bills are stacking up. We’re well and truly fucked, but I won’t let that information slip either.

“I was going to get those stalls cleaned out and then toss a few bales of hay to the west.”

“Start with the hay,” Rowdy says as he takes a step back. “Leave the stalls for Frankie and me.”

I clench my damn jaw until I feel the ache in my neck, but I don’t say a word. I simply nod in acceptance, my eyes burning with hatred as I watch him walk away.

“Looks like it’s just you and me in the barn today, gorgeous. Let me show you how to make the stalls so perfect, the goats will be calling me daddy.”

Frankie’s chuckle is like nails on a chalkboard.

“Stupid fuck,” I mutter, but I get to work like I’ve been instructed.

I hate the fucking guy, but at the same time, I can also admit that he works his ass off. He does things differently than I learned from my dad, but all the changes only make the work easier and more efficient. I don’t groan with aches and pain when I climb out of bed anymore.

Maybe it’s the fact that there are three people, all pulling their weight, making it so much easier?

Even with the decrease in pain, I’d much rather go back to the way things were, when Dad was here and healthy and there wasn’t a girl I can’t get off my mind haunting every thought.

“Lie down,” I hear Rowdy urge. “Just see how soft that bed is. What? No? Look. I’ll lie down first.”

Frankie chuckles again, and I can just picture her looking down at him as he reaches up for her hand.

“See? I told you it was perfect.”

Unable to chance the sight of them lying on a fresh bed of hay next to one another, I take the long way out of the barn before climbing in my truck. I’d rather make my day ten times longer hauling the round bales to the pasture than staying within hearing distance of them as I load the squares out of the back of the barn.

I spend the entire day in the field, and by the time I get back to the barn, both of them are gone.Chapter 16Frankie

“Later.” I wave to Rowdy as he leaves for the day. He’s been working here for almost three weeks, and I have to say, he’s a breath of fresh air.

When I climb out of bed in the morning with aching muscles, I know I’m going to spend the day working hard while at the same time smiling and laughing. He’s jovial and happy, always quick with a joke or compliment. He’s nothing like Zeke, the brooding jerk who barely forms sentences anymore.