Knotted (Trails of Sin 1)

The moment I meet Conor’s red-rimmed eyes, my anger spirals into dread. “What happened?”

“He’s taking me away!” Her hoarse words explode inside a sob, and she slides off the horse and into my arms.

“What? Who?” My blood runs cold as I cradle her face, searching for the source of her distress.

“Dad. He…he brought movers this morning, and they packed up his room and my room, and I tried to stop them, and Dad lost his temper, and Oh, God, Jake, he’s so mad. We fought, screaming and shouting like you wouldn’t believe, and he won’t listen. He won’t—” A deep, shuddering inhale loosens the tears in her eyes. They streak down her face and slice up my heart. “He wasn’t going to let me say good-bye. So I ran. Straight to the stable. To Ketchup. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Slow down. You’re not going anywhere.” I pull her tight against me and find Jarret’s wide eyes over her head. “Why on earth would he move off the ranch?”

“He’s moving us to Chicago, Jake!” She holds me in a death grip, angling her neck back to see my face.

Dalton’s from Chicago, but he doesn’t have any family left there. Maybe it’s a temporary move?

“Just for the summer?” My question rasps from a dry mouth.

“Permanently. He sold his shares of the ranch to your dad.”

My insides turn to steel, my throat a clenched fist. “It’s your mom’s ranch. Your inheritance. He wouldn’t sell it.”

The rumble of engines sounds in the distance, jacking my pulse.

“He’s coming.” She twists toward the horizon, every muscle in her body strung taut. “We’re leaving—”

“No. Fuck that.” With my hands on her face, I crush my mouth to hers, my insides an inferno of desperation.

My arm hooks around her back, my fingers stabbing in her snarled hair, pulling, holding, seeking certainty in the only place I’ll find it. She’s my home, and I’ll never let her go. It’s not even in the scope of possibilities.

“Doesn’t make sense.” Jarret paces around us. “Your dad wouldn’t leave Lorne. Not now.”

She breaks the kiss, shivering in the humid air. “He said I can’t go to school here after what happened and doesn’t want me around during Lorne’s trial and c-c-conviction.” A sobbing hiccup chops her voice. “He’s giving up on Lorne. Called him a murderer.” She slaps at her tears, gritting her teeth. “How can he say that about his own son?”

My mind spins, analyzing and rejecting every word. But I can’t deny Dalton’s recent coldness or the tension between him and my dad.

There’s going to be some changes around here.

They were planning this. Making arrangements. Dalton Cassidy intends to take my girl from me.

Fear jolts down my spine. I gather the whole of my existence in my arms and hug her tight, protecting what’s mine, freezing the moment, and shaking to the depth of my core.

Headlights sweep across the graying sky. Tires crunch across rugged terrain, and three trucks bounce over the hill, charging toward us. I feel her slipping through my fingers and squeeze her harder.

“Jake.” Her hands reach, gripping and pulling on my shoulders as she lifts on tiptoes. “No matter what, we stay together. Miles, months, cities, years…” Her breath strangles. “We’re bigger than anything that tries to come between us.”

A car door opens and shuts. The tread of boots advances.

She’s already accepted this. It’s in the droop of her posture, the silent fall of tears on her cheeks, and the release of her fingers on my shoulders.

I’m not anywhere close to acceptance. I never will be.

“I don’t want any trouble from you boys.” Dalton Cassidy pauses ten feet away.

A horde of beefy ranch hands climb out of the other trucks and close in. Dalton brought reinforcements.

“What’s going on?” Jarret steps between Conor and the advancing men.

“Conor and I are starting over.” Dalton hooks a thumb beneath his belt buckle, his hat gone, revealing a sheen of sweat on his balding head. “I’m sure she told you.” He waves a hand toward the truck. “Let’s go, Conor.”

“Remember, Jake.” Huge broken-glass eyes stare up at me. Lashes red as the sunset. Soft, tear-soaked lips press to mine, floods my mouth with salt and anguish. “No matter what.”

“No, I don’t accept this!” I grip her face, shouting loud enough for the world to hear. “I’m not letting go!”

She grips me right back, holding our mouths together. We exchange breaths, hanging on heartbeats and losing our footing as our life rips apart in a whirlwind of arms.

Four men grab Jarret and me, yelling and pulling, as another one wrenches Conor from my grasp.

“No! Stop!” She thrashes against the unbending arms. “You’re hurting them!”

“Conor!” I fight one off, but another one tackles me to the ground, pinning me with a body twice my size. “Let go of her!”

“Get her in the truck.” Dalton strides away, following the man restraining Conor.