Page 62 of For Cowgirls and Kings

“I don’t give a fuck. I don’t have time for this. And I don’t understand why everyone is just acting like this is no big deal. She’s missing!” I bellow, my voice quivering. A horse nickers nearby, and I suck in a ragged breath, hoping it’ll give me some semblance of calm.It doesn’t.“Dale’s missing, and I want every single ounce of attention to be focused on finding her. If I have to drive there and burn the casino down to prove my point, I fucking will. Do you understand me?”

“I’ll have her call you momentarily.” And then he hangs up.

The grass beneath my boots crunches, the dramatic drop in temperature from this morning sending an additional rush ofurgency to flood my system. Dale’s out here, in these conditions.

Is she okay?

“Repeat what your sister said again,” Faith states, her normally naive expression hidden beneath a mask of cool calculation—her sharp eyes completely at odds with the girl I’ve come to know.Maybe this isn’t the mask? Maybe the naive girl is, and this woman is the real Faith.

I shake my head. I don’t have time right now to worry about that. I’m grateful for the help, and even more grateful for the extra brain. My own is muddied with questions, clues, and crippling anxiety.

“Mateo.” Faith bites out my name, her hand on her hip in a look that’s anything but sweet or innocent.

“She refused to say much of anything.” I scrub a hand over my face. The truth is, saying she refused to say much of anything is an exaggeration. Valentina took my call, her irritation like a live wire through the phone, but when I asked her what the man meant by“she’d know the spot,”her fire froze to ice. I could’ve sworn I heard her breathing intensify—even panic, as she said “Rock San Antonio,” and hung up. I wanted to rage, call her back and demand more fucking information because these clues and half-truths are starting to wear on my last damn nerve, but even in my frustration, I knew it was no use.

Valentina doesn’t help anyone who isn’t herself.

Certainly not me, the man who’s taken everything she’s ever wanted in this life.

“She said near Rock San Antonio.”

“And that was it? Why won’t she help more?” Stetson asks, her voice thick with both worry and anger. I don’t blame her.

But I just shake my head. I don’t know why, and I don’t have time to figure it out either.

There’s a shrill whistle to the left, and we all instantly turn, heading back to the crowd of police officers dressed in their blue jackets and matching black felt cowboy hats—they look official but I know them for what they are:useless.

“What did you find?” I ask, pushing through the crowd.

Officer James eyes me, his mouth closing around whatever sentence he was sharing with his crew. My heart pounds in my throat, the lump clogging my windpipe.

He looks at a man to his left, before taking off his hat, running a hand through his thinning hair. “There’s nothing out here, Mr. Reyes. My team’s searched every part of the area, and there’s no evidence anyone has been here in months. If she was out here, my men and their dogs would have found her. Or her bod?—”

“Don’t,” I growl, stepping toward him. More than one hand reaches for whatever it is they keep holstered around their pudgy, useless waists. But I’m not afraid. And I’m certainly not done looking for her.

He raises his hand, signalling the other men to relax. “I’m sorry, Mr. Reyes. She’s not out here, and there’s a storm rolling in. We’ll resume searching first thing in the morning, but…” His words die off, and I don’t bother arguing.

It won’t do any good.

I stomp away, pulling the collar of my jacket higher around my neck. The inky sky above seems to reach down with spindly fingers, bleeding between the thick trees, forming a layer above the ground.

I stare at where they part around the large, greyish-green rock jutting like a broken bone through the skin of the earth, towering a few dozen feet ahead.Rock San Antonio.It’s nothing special, just a local landmark that high schoolers often spend late nights atop, getting drunk and howling at the moon. It’sunremarkable, and so far from anything else out here, that it makes no sense.

What does this rock have to do with anything?

Why did V direct us here, only for it to lead nowhere? Does she really hate me so much that she’d punish Dale? Part of me thinks maybe, but deeper than that, I know she wouldn’t. At least, the sister I used to admire and adore, beneath all the bitterness and wealth wouldn’t. And I have to believe she’s still in there somewhere.

Behind me several engines fire up, gravel crunching as they retreat into the darkness. As they fade, a dense fog seems to settle above the nearly frozen ground, and my body begins to quiver.

What am I missing?

“Do you want to look again?” Gus asks, and I nearly jump, not realizing he’s directly beside me. Sucking in a breath to calm my racing heart, I squint into the darkness, trying and failing to make out the shape of the rock visible only minutes ago.

“No, but I can’t leave. You should take the girls back—” I feel a pull, something I can’t explain, anchoring me to this spot.

“We’re not leaving,” Stetson says, and from the corner of my eye, I see her wrap an arm around Gus’s waist.

“Dale’s out there,” Faith whispers, and the certainty in her voice nearly crushes me. I know it too, the question remains though, is she still alive?