Page 29 of For Cowgirls and Kings (The Trauma Bonded #2)

TWENTY-THREE

MATEO

The ringer ends, sending me directly to voicemail for the fifth time, and the phone cracks beneath my grip. I don’t have time for this shit! I got the call from a blocked, anonymous number, and besides the panic in his voice and the vague location, the only lead I have is my sister.

My fucking sister who won’t pick up. What did she do?

“Hey? What’s going on?” Gus asks. I stare at him for several tense seconds, but when he starts toward me, I pull the truck door open and hop out.

“I got a call—” Gus pauses, and the screen door creeks behind him, signaling we’re no longer alone.

Stetson steps out on the porch, her hand on her forehead shielding her face from the midday sunshine.

Her face is flushed, blonde hair swept back into a low braid, her free hand resting on the small bump at her waist.

I contemplate lying. The last thing I want is to add stress to Stetson, especially in her current condition.

Her eyes harden, and she crosses her arms across her chest. “Don’t lie, Mateo. We love her too.”

I sag, my chest deflating. “I got an anonymous call from a man telling me to start searching the Reacher National Forest. And that Dale doesn’t have much time.”

Stetson begins walking toward us as if on an invisible string, the panic becoming more evident the closer she gets. Gus puts up his hand, halting her as she moves to walk past him.

“That’s it? What’s with all the cryptic bullshit?” he growls, and I shrug in agreement.

“I don’t know. But I think my sister does. He said she’d know the spot, which makes me think this might be some kind of trap.”

A trap meant for me because of my family. All of this—everything Dale’s enduring— is my fault.

“Have you called her?” Stetson asks, her eyes scouring my face. I wonder what she sees? Evil? Defeat? Anger?

“Multiple times. But it keeps going directly to voicemail. I was going to try—” I pause, knowing now is absolutely not the time to mention McCrae, even if his name sits like poison on the tip of my tongue. “Her main guard. He should know where she is.”

“What can we do?” Stetson’s voice quivers and I hate that I have no good answers for them.

“I’d love a shower, and something to eat. And I’ll call this guy and the police department, and I’ll get gathered up to head out there as soon as I can.”

“We,” Gus states. I nod, the single word meaning more to me than I’m able to express.

“Yes, we,” Stetson adds, and both Gus and I shoot her a skeptical look. “Don’t look at me like that. Faith and I are just as capable at searching, and we’re as worried as you are. You’d have to tie me down to keep me from going, and I know Faith’ll feel the same way.”

I shrug, knowing there’s nothing I can do to stop her. Besides, Gus will never let anything happen to her. She’s probably safer by his side anyways.

“Go call her, get what you need,” Gus grumbles, turning back to the house without another glance.

When they’re both back inside, and out of earshot, I dial McCrae. It only rings twice before he answers, “Boss?”

I pause, waiting to hear any hints of discomfort. But when he sighs, sounding almost bored, I snap, “Where’s Valentina?”

“She’s in a meeting with a new liquor distributor. The one you approved last week, if you recall.”

“I’ve been busy, looking for a missing woman, if you recall,” I growl.

“I know. Have you found anything?”

“Yes. Get V out of the meeting now, and have her call me.”

He hesitates. “They just sat down.”

“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 of urgency 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’s unremarkable, 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?

The faint hum of an engine rumbles through the trees and we all whirl on the newcomer.

“Someone’s coming.” Gus moves to step in front of Stetson. His body shielding hers, taut muscle and radiating dominance. He’d step in front of a bullet for her, that I have no doubt.

And as the engine rumbles closer, my stomach somersaults with the realization of who it is—the sounds of the incoming bike familiar even in my nightmares.

I’ve wanted to avoid this at all cost, but I’ve no doubt Valentina sent him out here in her stead, either to complicate or help—in her own twisted way. Either way, it’s about to be a shit storm, and I see no way out.

Gus will step in front of a bullet for Stetson—kill for her even I’m sure—I just hope he can see reason too. I hope that after everything, he’ll let me explain.

I turn to look at Gus, hand extended in the air, as if trying to calm a wild beast. “Listen, Gus, this is going to be really fucking weird, and I’m sorry I haven’t mentioned it sooner.

Honestly, I just didn’t know how because I know how you guys are.

But trust me. And trust I will explain everything after Dale’s back. I swear it.”

His brows push together, and I can see the calculation forming behind his eyes. Before I

have a chance to say anything else, his face turns to stone, a snarl ripping across his face. Whether it’s meant for me, or the man I know is now pulling to a stop at my back, I don’t know.

“McCrae? What the fuck?”

I turn to look at the man in question, and cringe.

He steps off his bike, running a tattooed hand through his unruly blonde hair.

He’s always a scary mother-fucker, but tonight he looks especially so, shrouded in darkness that seems to curl around him more than part for him—like it’s part of him.

His hair is slicked back, leather jacket perfectly in place over a white shirt, cigarette lit and hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

He rolls his eyes, pulling the stick from his lips. “Brother.”

It’s a single word, and my stomach drops farther. How can I even begin to salvage this? And more importantly, how can he help me find Dale?

“What’s going on?” Stetson asks, her voice hesitant.

“Who—” Faith whispers. This is a fucking mess.

But instead of addressing any of their questions, I step toward him, my heart in my throat. “McCrae. Any news?” I hear all three of my friends inhale loudly, but I don’t have time to consider their feelings. Not right now— not with Dale on the line.

His eyes remain glued to Gus’s, even as he speaks to me. “I passed some police officer’s heading out of here.” There’s a question in his voice, and I scrunch my nose.

“Yes. I called them to help search.” His eyes snap to mine, and he takes in a deep drag.

“Did you find anything?”

“Obviously fucking not. And I’m sick of this cryptic shit. What the fuck is going on? Where’s Dale?” I advance on him, my early hesitancy in his regard forgotten. I’m getting to the bottom of this if it’s the last fucking thing I do.

His eyes flare for a split second, and then drops the butt end of the cigarette, smashing the ember with the toe of his boot.

“I don’t know where Dale is, I’m sorry.” His voice is low, full of genuine concern.

“Fuck!” I shout, running a hand through my hair once more.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on? I don’t fucking understand.” Gus’s voice, biter and full of venom pelts my back, and I fold forward. I knew this was going to be bad.

What if he never forgives me?

Before I can respond, McCrae snarls, “I work for the Reyes family. Have for a couple years. Now that you’re on the inside, I can tell you that. Guess I’m not as much of a deadbeat as you always thought.”

There’s a weighted silence for several seconds, before Gus chuckles. “Oh, I promise, it had nothing to do with your job or lack thereof, that made me think of you as a deadbeat.”

“Fucking say it to my face, you little piss ant.” McCrae advances at Gus, and my hand snaps out, stopping him.

“Enough!” Stetson screeches, silencing both Gus and McCrae. “I get that you have shit, and McCrae, I’ll never forgive you for the things you’ve done to Gus. But for the love of god, this isn’t about you two. If you can help find Dale, do it.”

Gus, being the man who’d do anything for Stetson, concedes, cussing under his breath. He stomps away, his body retreating toward the van we drove out here. Part of me wants to follow him, apologize, explain, anything . But Stetson’s right—this is about Dale.

“Why are you here?” Being productive is better than nothing at this point.

“Wanted to see if you found… anything. ” His eyes flick in the direction of the rock, before finding mine once more.

“Like?”

“The girl, of course.”

“The girl has a name,” Stetson hisses, stepping toward him once more. “And if you’re not going to help us find her, get the fuck away from me and my family.”

Instead of snarling or posting up like I’m so used to McCrae doing, he retreats. It’s only a single step, and based on the look on his face it’s not out of fear, but respect.

“I’ll stay, and help look first thing in the morning,” he concedes, pulling another cigarette from his jacket pocket. Seeming to be appeased with that, Stetson nods, and her and Faith begin walking to the van without a second glance.

“You might freeze,” I state without offering an alternative.

“Naw. Hell’s plenty warm.” He shrugs, stomping back to his bike, and I watch him retreat.

I turn back in the direction of the rock, staring until my body begins to shake once more.

When my fingers are numb, I sag, turning to the van. I don’t know what to say as I climb inside the silence, but I take the protein bar Faith extends in my direction.

I’ll fix everything, just as soon as I have Dale back. I have to.