Page 119 of For Cowgirls and Kings

Stetson smiles at me, a small, sad, knowing smile, like she can hear my insecurities and the questions. I know her and Gus went through their own struggles on their way to find each other, but there was never any question if they would fit into each other’s lives.

Mateo and I? There’s only questions on how we can navigate this inevitable end without hurting each other. The more I look at it, the more I don’t see any other options.

So as he tugs me to the room, his head hanging between his shoulders, a sudden burst of anger flares through me.

I want my happy ending, and I want it with Mateo Reyes, but the fucking universe is determined to make me suffer in every way it can. Why?Why me?

FORTY-THREE

MATEO

April 8th, 2025

I waituntil the door clicks behind Dale, the silence surrounding us so weighted it feels like being beneath an avalanche, before I turn to face her. “We need to talk.”

Her face instantly puckers, her eyes flaring before she crosses her arms. “Sit down before you fall down.” She motions to the bed, but I remain standing. I have to get this out before I crash completely. I haven’t slept since I left her over two days ago—trying to work out the messy finances of the casino, chasing V around to no end, and fighting off an overwhelming sea of employees who feel as though they’ve been neglected.

In all fairness, they have. But I don’t have it in me to care—not the way I should.

“Let me get this out,” I bite out through a yawn. Her eyes narrow, squaring her shoulders like she’s contemplating tackling me to the bed if I don’t do as she says. I raise a hand, backing until I feel the bed hit the back of my knees, and then fall. “Okay, fine.”

“Now, let’s talk about this after you’ve rested.” She moves toward me like she’s going to tuck me in or something and I stiffen.

“No, Dale.”

She freezes, and then slowly crosses her arms once more. I sigh, running a hand through my hair.How do I even begin?

“There’s things about your captivity—”Fuck that sounds horrible, but isn’t it?“Valentina came here the other night, which is what prompted my leaving. She said some things, and it raised questions that I’ve been too naive to answer since you’ve been back. But, they need answering—you deserve that closure.” I pause, lifting my eyes to hers, expecting fear to be there. But I'm met with only a cold glare—the kind that cuts clear to your bones.

“I know,” she states, her fingers squeezing tighter around her biceps.

She knows.She knows she deserves better, deserves answers—of course she does.I’ve been the selfish one here, wanting to keep her in the perfect little bubble of safety. But that’s for me, and not her, and she’s been too nice to say as much.

The realization cuts through me like a bullet and I fight off the shiver racing down my spine.

“Yes, well, you’re right,” I say, not sure what else I can say. Her eyebrows draw together, but I forge on, too afraid of what else she might say before I can finish. “Anyway, seeing her reminded me of questions I have, and still can’t get answers to. We were there in the forest when you came running because I got an anonymous phone call telling me to ask my sister the spot—‘she would know’, he said. And he was right. Valentina told us to go to Rock San Antonio. And that’s where you appeared from.”

“You said he?” she questions, and I pause.

“Yeah? An anonymous he. I know he wanted me or V to be there, but I still don’t know why, I still don’t know the connection.”

“I do.” Her shoulders sag, and I sit up straighter at the admission.

“What’re you talking about?”

She moves to sit beside me, her small frame sinking on the mattress, folding her legs close to her chest.

Dale begins to tell me a story about a group of poor brothers, with poor circumstances and a deathly ill mother that they all loved deeply. She talks about the sickness, and how the brothers all changed in order to take care of her best, doing what they must in order to get her the medical care she required—starting with illegal painkillers and ending with ripping off large establishments that they didn’t think would notice to pay for black market medication. All the while, her eyes remain fixed on the floor, her fingers nervously picking at her nails, and I ache to hold her, but I’m frozen.

In the end she talks about how the mother got worse, and one brother refused to steal anymore because he knew the mother didn’t want them to. So the youngest brother—a boy freshly eighteen did, and he was killed by the casino’s owner.

As Dale finishes the story, a memory surfaces of my sister—sitting in my office months ago, and her going on and on about someone stealing from the casino and “elimination.”

“It was Valentina.” Her name wheezes from my lips, and Dale doesn't bother responding. It wasn’t a question, and just like that, all the pieces fall into place.

Oh, god.I always thought everything that happened to Dale was my fault, but now? Now I have proof. And she knows it too—wait, she’s known.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” I vault from the bed, causing Dale to jostle slightly. She scrambles to her feet, squaring up opposite of me.