Page 39 of For Cowgirls and Kings

I hate that he’s telling me this. Because it only complicates how I see him, how I feel about him.

It’s a lame gesture, and I have no fucking clue why a creepy tattoo would be a symbol of…whatever it is he feels for his little brother, but I know that it meanssomething.

And that’s what’s fucking confusing.

I pour a large glass, slamming it back and relishing in the burn as the liquid filters through my body. “What did you have to show me?”

He sighs, and when I’ve had enough whiskey to feel like I can meet his eyes, I’m met with a look of disappointment. Not the kind of disappointment that someone gives you when they don’t like what you’ve said or done, but the kind of disappointment that’s deeper, darker. Like he’s disappointed to still be alive.

And it makes me feel sad for him. For a second anyways.

“It’s about your girl.”

I nearly snort whiskey out my nose, the burn almost too much as it hits my nostrils. Coughing, I walk back to my desk. “What about her?”

I won’t deny it.Especially to McCrae—I don’t want him to get any ideas that she might be free game.

I’m not a violent man, in fact, I know I’ve disappointed my family in more ways than one with my refusalto beviolent, but I would kill McCrae without a second thought if he even got near Dale.

Which were the exact same thoughts I had when I first saw her at the Steakhouse sitting across from Stetson, and next to a man I recognized but didn’t. A man with crazy curly hair, a muscular arm that rivaled my own slung across her shoulders,and a face that was far too similar to the one haunting my nightmares.

I’ve still never told Gus about my involvement, and I pray I never have to. Gus doesn’t come off as the forgiving type, and I enjoy his friendship. I enjoy who I am when I’m with him. And I enjoy that with him and Stetson on my side, I might just have a chance with Dale.

Someday, somehow.

“I was checking out the camera’s you had me install outside of her home a few months ago—” He pauses, eyeing me like he’s waiting for me to get upset for checking them. I don’t trust him to be a good guy, but I do trust him to do as he’s told. Not that he’s needed to watch them much because I’ve been watching them every free minute to just catch glimpses of her. I just want to protect her—or something like that.

“Are you going to tell me what the fuck you saw?”

He huffs, and shifts his legs, putting both of his heavily tattooed hands in his jacket pockets. “Wasn’t sure if you’d already seen it or not.”

“Obviously not McCrae. What, the fuck, is it?” He really knows how to push a person’s buttons.No wonder Gus hates him.

“There was a man outside this morning, looking in the windows.”

I bolt out of my chair, rushing him. “Why the fuck didn’t you say something sooner?” I hiss, now only inches from his face.

“I just saw it. I’ve only been checking that camera once a day because I know you check it some. It was quick and he was wearing a mask, obscuring most of his face. But Boss, he looked right at the camera, like he knew it was there. He fucking smirked, and then left.”

Ice clogs my veins, my heart stuttering to a stop in my chest.

I’d love to punch him, but I know it’s not his fault. Not really. So instead I pull out my phone and dial Dale with shaky hands.

How I’m going to explain any of this, I don’t know, but I have to hear her voice. I have to know she’s fine.

It rings and rings, my heart hammering wilder with each unanswered turn. And then it clicks on. “Mateo?” Dale’s confused and hesitant voice fills the line and I sag, nearly crumpling to the floor.

“Dale—” My voice is choked, and I don’t even have enough willpower to be embarrassed about it.

“Mateo, why are you calling me? It’s late.”

“Just um, are you alone?”Smooth Mateo,real fucking smooth. Now that I have her on the line, I don’t know what to say. If I tell her about the cameras, she’ll not only be pissed, but most likely freaked out, and insist I take it down. I also haven’t had a real conversation with her since Christmas—the run in with her students not included. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to ask.

Starting with:are you enjoying your Christmas gift?

I’ll admit it was a very bold, out of character move for me. I just, after watching her like a fucking creep, masterbate, and come up unsuccessful, I couldn’t stop the need to help her. Any way I could, because that’s what friends are for—lending a helping hand. I also have this weird need to be the one who fulfills her, a new facet to my relationship with Dale that I don’t yet know how to reconcile.

I don’t want her to need anyone else.Only me.