Page 19 of Daddy’s Firm Hands (Saddle Up)
LUCKY
S tone called me at least a thousand times since we left Texas. After the fourth call, I turned my bluetooth off so Milo didn’t have to see his name on the screen. The poor guy’s been through enough.
I’m aware he’s running from something fucked up. He came to us with bruises and cuts and won’t talk about it. Some guy attacked him in a bathroom. Something in my gut tells me he either has a very powerful, abusive ex or family, or he’s involved in some type of organized crime.
Either way, the worst thing he can do is leave the ranch, and I need to talk Stone into letting him stay. The minute Milo leaves, he’s a sitting duck.
I pull into a rest stop.
“Wake up, it’s time to take a piss,” I tease him. He’s half asleep in the back seat, cuddled in one of my sleeping bags I use when I go camping on the more remote parts of the ranch.
“No, you go ahead.” He rolls over with a faint sniffle. How can he still have tears to cry? He must be dehydrated. If Stone wasn’t cutting my paychecks and giving me a free place to crash, I’d beat his ass for how upset he’s made Milo.
I lock the car doors before running into the rest stop’s bathroom to quickly do my business. Obviously I wash my hands, because I’m not a fucking animal. Then I stop at the little store inside and get us some drinks and snacks for the trip. Stone calls again , and this time I connect the call.
“Yeah?” I don't bother tacking a boss or a sir at the end, because he’s forever on my shit list.
“Where are you two? Pull over and let me catch up, I’m worried sick about Milo,” his frantic voice cracks at the end.
“You didn’t seem too upset when you let him walk away at the rodeo. Milo said you didn’t even fight for him. You just let him walk away.” Is it smart to talk to my boss this way? No, but I don’t give a fuck right now. I never claimed to not be impulsive.
“I needed to process what was happening, and someone had to talk to the cops, since he wouldn’t. Some really dangerous people are after Milo. Please let me catch up to you, so I can keep him safe,” he begs.
“You can try, but once he sees you, he’s going to bolt. You broke his heart…” Just like how Doc broke mine. “We’re at a rest stop off I-25 in Colorado.”
“How the fuck did you get to Colorado so fast?!” he barks. “Did you drive straight through?”
I stand at the glass doors, watching the truck. “Yes. Milo is very determined to get back to Ironhide and figure out his next move. He’s moving into the big bunkhouse with me and the guys until he does.”
“Milo will move into the bunkhouse over my dead body!”
I cut him off, because I don’t have time for his posturing bullshit. “Stone, you really fucked this up. You’re lucky Milo isn’t hitchhiking his way off the ranch as soon as we get back. Give him a little bit of space before you come in guns blazing.”
“The people after Milo know where the ranch is. I need him in the house so he’s safe,” Stone argues.
“ Wrong . You need him in the bunkhouse, where he’s surrounded by armed men who know how to use guns. From what I hear around the ranch, Milo knows how to use one, too.”
Stew told me that Doc told him Milo shot a snake right between its beady little eyes. This little tid bit of information is why I think Milo is either involved in some kind of organized crime, or the guy who beat him up is.
“Are you armed right now?” he asks me.
“Of course! Who do you think I am?” For fuck’s sake, it’s like he doesn’t even know me, or where I come from. After what my father did to me before I left, I’d never set foot in Texas again without having at least two guns, a knife, and a pair of brass knuckles on me.
Daddy Dearest will never get the drop on me again.
“Okay. Please keep him safe. I’ll get home as soon as I can.”
“Will do. Bye, bossman.” I end the call feeling a little less angry than I was before.
Stone fucked up, but he cares about Milo. Hopefully they can fix it. I know soulmates when I see them, and those two are it.
I can’t have my soulmate, but it’s not too late for Milo to have his.