Page 11 of For Cowgirls and Kings

I’ll keep her secret, even if they lock me in a cell with her. Because she deserves people who won’t give up on her, no matter the darkness she carries.

Maybe I should be repulsed by the knowledge that Stetson killed someone. But I’m not. I’m only proud—and angry I wasn’t around sooner to help her heal from it. What a heavy burden that must have been to carry. What a terrifying experience to have to endure and live with day in and day out.

How isolating it must have been.

It’s no wonder she has such a hard time accepting help. She’s done everything on her own, and become damn good at it.

I know she has Gus, and something tells me he's been helping her far longer than I even know about. They’re two halves to the same dark, cracked piece, and I’m so grateful she has him. Even if she does get in her own damn way when it comes to their relationship.

If only I had someone to lean on, someone to trust with myevery dark and dirty secret. What would that feel like to expose my most private thoughts to another person, and trust they would love even those broken pieces?

What would it feel like to allow myself space to feel dark and serious, instead of filling myself with synthetic sunshine?

I reach for my phone with shaky fingers, needing to talk to someone before I run myself off the road. I’m spiraling, my head spinning with toxic emotions.

I dial, not even looking at the phone and it rings only once before his husky voice spills through the line, filling me with a calm I bask in greedily. I needed this,him. Even if tomorrow I’ll refuse to admit it.

“Dale, is everything okay?”

Even if it makes no sense, I know I can trust him. “Mateo, I’m sorry, I know it’s late. But—” I pause sucking in a breath. How much of this can I really tell him? Will he keep my secrets, the secrets of those I love, without wanting something in return? What price would I pay for their safety? I know the answer without having to even think more of it—anything— “Stetson’s in trouble. Gus called and said the barn is burning and I’m going there now, and I think she killed her father. But he deserved it, if anything, I’m certain it was self-defense and he got mercy compared to what he deserved. You can’t, I don’t know if I should have told you, but Mateo, I don’t know what to do. I need to help them. Will you help me, help them? Mateo?—”,

“Dale!” His voice slices through my anxious rambling, cutting off my train of thought, and I focus on the road racing in front of me.When was the last time I took a breath?“I’m headed there now, but it’ll be thirty minutes at the least. Call the police as soon as we get off the phone, and I will too, alerting them of the severity.”

I cut him off, panic clawing at my throat. “No! You can’t tell them aboutStetson’s dad.”

“I won’t, I promise. I’ll take that secret to the grave. But I’ll tell them to get there as quickly as possible.” I sag, relief thick in my veins. “And Dale, don’t do anything stupid. You can’t run into a burning building, or fight off someone with a gun no matter how much you love her.”

I don’t respond, because even if what he’s saying is rational, I’ll do what I must to save her. I love her, down to my core the way you would a sister—maybe even more than that because she’s the family I chose for myself—and I won’t lose her.

“Dale, did you hear me?” His voice is harsh, laced with a blade meant to elicit fear, making me do what he says. But I’ve never been afraid of him, even when I should be.

“Thank you, Mateo. I never have deserved your friendship, but I’m grateful all the same.”

I turn onto her driveway, the flames of the barn licking the darkness of the sky above it. Red and orange claws tear ribbons across the inky black of the night, and as I come to a screeching halt, I hang up, dialing the police in the same motion. Panic runs through me like a thick sludge, clogging every nerve ending until I feel numb.

They have to be okay.

They have to make it out okay.

“Nine one one, what’s the nature of your emergency?”

I stand staring at the flames, my fingers wrapped tightly around the phone. “A fire, Spurrin’ L Ranch on Kennedy, hurry.” The flames roar, and I barely hear their response over the line as wood cracks, the sparks spiraling to the ground.

It’s then that I notice the work truck parked to the left of the barn doors, the engine still running, door hanging open. As if he jumped from it, and raced inside.

Oh god.

I drop the phone, springing into action and bolting towards the flames.

“Gus? Stetson?”I shout their names, the sound ripped from me and swallowed by the thunderous fire. “Stetson?”

Heat pours around me like lapping waves of the ocean, each blast hotter and hotter, threatening to pull me into its hellish grip. The hairs around my face begin to curl, beads of sweat coating my head as I take another step closer to the flames.

If it’s this hot out here, how hot is it inside? How could anyone survive this?

I strain to hear anything above the roar of the flames and my pounding heart. I open my mouth to yell into the flames again, but am cut off by a sound. A faint shout from within. “Hello?”

“Gus! Over here! Gus!” I scream louder.