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jackson

T he northern ridge area of the ranch was largely untouched. Our spot. I’d gone back there in the first few weeks after West left, but eventually, I gave up on the place. I pretended it no longer existed. The place was full of nothing but painful memories.

But tonight, it was the only place I wanted to be.

I took Tess with me—letting her hang her head out the window in the night air like she liked. If I had her, I had to be responsible. I had to keep my head on. She kept me smart when all I wanted to be was stupid.

Though, I’d already burned down the McNamara house. Wasn’t sure how much more stupid I could get in one night.

I didn’t park my truck too close. A part of me didn’t want to disturb the place. Why the hell this place still felt important was beyond me. It should’ve lost that significance a long time ago.

Tess bounded ahead of me when we got out, and I damn near lost her in the overgrown grass. She was nothing but a rapid tail and bouncing ears. Something about that made me envious. To be a dog in this world was something else. What I wouldn’t give to feel the kind of joy she felt just running through the long grass.

As I sat against a tree, I let out a whistle. She came running and damn near barreled into me.

“Come here, girl,” I said quietly, patting my chest. She settled in my lap, though that tail of hers never quit going, especially once I started scratching her behind the ears. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Was I talking to my dog expecting her to have all the answers? Yeah, I fucking was. But at this point, Tess was as likely to have the answers as anyone else. I propped my hat on my knee and tipped my head back against the rough bark, staring up at the dark branches.

“Fuck, I’m so tired, Tess,” I whispered.

I hated this goddamn ranch. I owed it to my family. Our entire history was tied to this place. Every fucking Myles for generations ran this place, but it felt like I was the only one running it into the ground. My heart wasn’t in it. I didn’t want to manage people or raise cattle. I wanted to ride bulls until my body couldn’t take no more—which was coming up faster on me than I wanted to admit aloud. Taxes, paychecks, and business connections weren’t me. Never had been.

I did it because I was supposed to, but I would’ve given anything to be elsewhere.

And then there was West. Fuck, my whole goddamn heart hurt over that situation. Everything he’d been through was so fucking unnecessary. I knew Mickey and Mom didn’t see it that way. They’d done their best—at least that was how they saw it. But their best was too little too late.

Way too late.

Someone should’ve stepped in when he was a kid. Fuck this goddamn ranch. Fuck family history and all that shit.

All my anger and hatred was tied to a broken fucking heart. I knew that, even when I lied to everyone else about it. West had been my everything—loving him aside. We’d spent every waking moment together from the minute we both could walk. He was my best friend. He was the one I was supposed to do this whole goddamn thing called life with. I’d counted on that. When he’d disappeared, it fucking hurt.

But I had to let all that hurt go. Or at least set it aside. For West’s sake .

I closed my eyes with a heavy sigh. The look on his face in the bar was branded into my brain. It wasn’t anger. It was pure fear—an animal backed into a fucking corner. And knowing what I knew now, I got it.

Something had to give. He didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong trapped in a place that reminded him of all the awful shit he’d been through.

West deserved to be free.

I spent the whole fucking day dealing with legal shit. I hated legal shit. Correction: I hated lawyers. I hated trying to connive my way into information as I figured out the logistics of Harrison’s will. There had to be a loophole somewhere. At least, I wanted there to be.

When it was clear that there wasn’t, it left me trying to create an alternate path. One that would cost me my hide if someone found out. But I was determined to make it fucking happen. By the end of the day, I had a solid plan. There was only one last thing I needed to do before I could put the plan into play.

Which was how I ended up on Mickey’s doorstep late at night. The old man stood in the doorway wearing flannel pajama pants and a Merrillville tourist tshirt. I said nothing about it, but I was more focused on the two braces the man had on his knees.

“Knees bothering you, Mickey?” I asked.

“You that bored you came all the way here to ask me about my knees, boy?” he countered, leaning against the doorframe. The TV played quietly in the background—some old Western movie, which I would’ve found funny on any other occasion.

“Just how guilty do you feel?” I demanded. There was no fucking point in beating around the bush. “About what you did to West. How guilty do you feel?”

“Jackson, we talked about this shit.” Mickey blew out a long breath. “I did the best I fuckin’ could given the goddamn circumstances.”

“I know that’s what you think, but I’m trying to determine just how far you’re willing to go to make up for it now.”

“All right, boy. Tell me what you’re thinkin’. ”

“I need you to be willing to commit perjury for him,” I said. His eyes widened slightly. Yeah, he wasn’t expecting that question. “Invite me in, Mick. I ain’t having this conversation out here.”

I waited him out, watching the wheels turn in his head. I was about to ask a lot of him—something that could get him in real trouble if anyone found out—but it was the best plan I fucking had.