Page 1

CHAPTER1

Chyanne

Chyanne Saunders stepped off the bus, lugging her twenty-pound suitcase behind her. It had been an eight-hour ride, the air conditioner onboard was broken, and her window was stuck. She was sweaty, smelly, and more than a little annoyed with the way her life was going.

She barely managed to yank her suitcase away before the bus took off, a brown puddle splashing her in its wake.

Now she was sweaty, smelly, and mud-covered.

Great.

Still, she gritted her teeth and forced herself to get a grip. She needed this job, or she wouldn’t be here. Who the hell ever went to Kermit, Texas by choice?

“No one but smelly, muddy, dried-up rodeo riders,” Chyanne muttered. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket. There was a map on there that would help her locate the front office without having to ask for help.

The way I look—and smell!—I don’t want to talk to anyone I don’t have to.

But what she saw made her grimace. Her phone battery was at two percent.

Maybe I should go to my room first and get a shower, then plug in my phone,she mused. Chyanne pulled up the tab with the map and tried to commit the picture to memory. Just that simple action made her battery dip lower.

“Great,” she moaned as she shoved the phone into her back pocket. “Fucking fantastic.”

The tally of how much her life sucked kept climbing the farther she walked. She could practically hear her feet screaming in protest, and it was a challenge to keep dragging the luggage while her arms silently shrieked for relief.

She began to swear under her breath as she yanked. “Slow and steady wins the fucking race,” she huffed as she wrestled with the mammoth suitcase. “Yeah, right.”

But despite the sun bearing down on her and the beads of sweat running between her breasts, Chyanne’s attention was diverted by the sound of nearby voices.

Is someone… crying?

Her ears perked up, trying to identify the sound. Hushed whispers… cajoling murmurs… and yep, definitely crying. There was a large stretch of green shrubbery blocking the people from view and she decided to use this to her advantage. Dropping the suitcase handle and forgetting about her luggage for the time being, Chyanne noiselessly crept toward the voices.

“I just… I mean… I know he’s mad, but…” Whatever other words might have been used were drowned out by noisy, gasping sobs.

What the hell?

“I’m so sorry you’re sad,” another voice answered mournfully.

“You know he just wants what’s best for you,” yet another faceless voice added. “It will hurt for a while, but then it will be over, and…”

Chyanne felt her brow furrow as she leaned closer to try to hear. What did that mean? What would hurt?

“You’ll be forgiven and Daddy’s good girl again,” another voice put in.

Okay. What the actual fuck?

Chyanne felt the red hair on her head stand on end.It will hurt… you will be forgiven… Daddy’s good girl…

“I kn-know,” the girl sobbed. “B-but I’m s-so s-sc-scared!”

That did it. On instinct, Chyanne barreled toward them, bursting through the shrubbery and ignoring the stunned looks on the four girls’ faces. Her eyes roved over them until she found the speaker. She was obvious, given the bits of hair plastered to her cheeks and her red, swollen eyes.

“Who’s going to hurt you?” she demanded, mincing toward her. Chyanne didn’t mean to be scary, she really didn’t. She had been told all her life she was abrasive, aggressive, even mean. In her own mind, she was none of those things. What she was, was a protector of people or animals who needed it, even if she didn’t know them.

“Oh,” the crying girl hiccupped in surprise. “Ah, I…”

Chyanne focused all her attention on the petite brunette, trying to make her voice both commanding and caring as she asked again, “Who?”