Page 67 of Cowboy Needed

“There you go.”

Damn right it was a family. It washisfamily. And he wasn’t putting up with this shit anymore.

Zane took a deep, deep breath and let it out. “You’re dealing with it, right?”

Ichabod nodded. “You have my word. I am dealing with this shit, and it will cease. Now.”

“All right.” That got him a tentative smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime.” Ichabod managed to wait until Zane walked out of the bedroom door before he grabbed his pillow and screamed into it, letting all his hysterical fury out.

Ellis sent Rick a terse text.

He saw the three dots come and go several times, then Rick finally decided on,.

The damn dots started to work again, so he sent another message.

That was much better, dammit.

He figured he needed to meet Rick in public so he didn’t kill the stupid fucker.

Zane was losing his shit. Michael had basically gone into his room and shut the door and refused to come out. Allie kept wandering around the house looking confused like she couldn’t figure out why everybody was angry. And Chrissy didn’t want to go into the damn bathroom. And he knew right where to lay the blame.

So, Ellis was going to lay it down with a fucking hammer.

He texted Ichabod on his way to the truck.

That“love you”was everything.

Fucking everything.

He didn’t roar out, because he didn’t want to worry the kids, but he made good time, because his anger was riding him, and he needed this done.

On his way home, he intended to call his dad and invite his old man to Christmas. But first he had to deal with this other part of the family.

Rick was a lot of things, but a cowboy wasn’t one of them, and he didn’t believe for a second that that little son of a bitch was going to be able to stand up to anything that he dished out.

He threw the truck in park and strode into the restaurant, knowing Rick would be waiting in the bar. This wasn’t doing happy hour. This was an ass-kicking.

And if Rick hadn’t known what he’d done, he would’ve asked why they were meeting. They all knew what the hell was going on. It was more a matter of who was going to flinch first.

Spoiler—it wasn’t going to be him.

Rick was already there, sitting at the bar, a Fat Tire in front of him. Condensation on the bottle told him that Rick had actually been there for a while, clearly he had chosen a good rendezvous point.

Rick gave him an insolent stare when he walked up. “So, what’s this all about?”

Ellis clenched his hands into fists. “You know exactly what the fuck this is all about. What is your fucking problem, man? I swear to God, I wanted to meet you somewhere public so I didn’t punch you in the face the minute I saw you, and I still want to do it.”

Rick sneered. “I told you I was going to make this hard for him.”