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25

MONTE

T he horse I’m riding is a skittish Appaloosa mare and she flinches no matter how gently I nudge her along. It’s not helpful that Getty insists on riding his Arabian stallion too close on her heels. Each time I move aside to let him pass, he halts where he is and waits for me to continue so he can keep being a pain in the ass.

Behind us, the fortress of a mansion grows distant and starts to melt into the shadows. The dark building carved into the valley doesn’t have the height of a medieval castle but it’s no less imposing.

Years ago, I heard my uncle brag that Storm’s Eye Ranch is one of the largest in the state. Technically, it’s still a working cattle ranch, but only because my uncle likes to be able to point to the fact and boast. The collection of buildings and facilities laid out around the main house are substantial enough to look like a small village.

In comparison, Bright Hearts Ranch where Sadie and Cale live is toy-sized, although their place has ten times the heart of this cold giant with its armed guards roaming around while the Tempestas play at being rugged ranchers instead of mafia thugs.

I remember back in high school we learned about that French queen who was sentenced to the guillotine during the revolution. Before she lost her head, she had a whole fake town created just so she could hang out there and pretend to be one of the commoners. This reminds me of my uncle in a weird way, although no revolution is on the horizon to remove him from his perch.

Getty bumps into me for the fourth time and my horse recoils. I don’t even bother glaring at him. A reaction is what he’s hoping for. All I do is tighten my hands on the reins and pretend he’s invisible.

My left hand looks weirdly bare without my wedding ring. I took it off when I arrived, when I was still idling in the circular driveway in front of the house. With a heavy heart, I placed it deep in the glove compartment.

The act felt like a betrayal but it was necessary. I keep telling myself they know nothing about my sudden marriage. If I can keep it that way, then I will.

The moon is on the rise. In another hour the sky will be a glittering roof of stars.

I wonder what Sabrina is doing right now. I shouldn’t need to guess. I should be with her. And we should be on our way back to New York, like I promised her we would be.

Fuck, I really do love that girl more than I love breathing. I took too long to say it, but now that I’ve said it to her once, I’m eager to say it again.

There’s not much privacy out here, sitting atop a horse and surrounded by my asshole cousins, but I pull out my phone anyway.

More than anything, I want to hear her voice. Too bad it’s out of the question. Our earlier phone call keeps replaying in my head and I feel deep sorrow that there was no time to pour my heart out to her the way I want to.

The closest I can get to her is to look at the last text I sent. At least now she knows how I feel. The next time I say the words ‘I love you’, she’ll be in my arms again.

No matter how good the reason, leaving her behind still feels like a mistake. I’ll make it up to her. Then I’ll never let go of her again.

“It’s a clear night,” Julian calls from the front of the line. “We’ll camp by the creek.”

I bite back a slew of curses. While there’s nothing unusual in camping out by the creek and we used to do it all the time during our summer visits, I’m not excited to see the creek again after what happened the last time I was there.

Sure enough, Julian leads us right to the spot where we nearly fought to the death eight years ago. I remember landing a solid punch to his nose and feeling the cartilage crack. If you ask me, his nose still looks a little crooked. I hope he remembers the reason why every time he looks in the mirror.

Fort takes charge of the horses and asks for my help getting them tied up. When he unpacks his horse he tosses me the extra sleeping bag he brought, which is a damn nice gesture, and I’m forced to say a grudging thank you. He nods and starts carving apples into halves to give to the horses.

Getty is building a fire. Tye is ransacking the drink cooler and complaining that there’s not enough beer. Julian, forever the pit boss of the crew, stands at the shoreline of the swollen creek and rakes over the scene with his sharp eyes.

For a moment, a torrent of good memories attempts to surface. Some of the best times of my life were spent here with my cousins. Though New York City will always have the primary claim to my soul, I won’t bother denying that I also feel connected to this place.

Julian sees that I’m staring and his expression turns thoughtful. “It’s good to see you back here. I was starting to think you’d never visit again.”

Sometimes it’s not easy to tell if Julian is fucking with you or not. In any case, I’m keeping my guard up.

“Your father demanded to see me so here I am,” I say. “There’s really no mystery to it.”

He smiles but I wouldn’t call it a friendly smile. “We brought some brats to cook over the fire. Just like the old days. You remember.”

“Great,” I mutter, although a low rumbling in my stomach reminds me that food wouldn’t be a bad idea.

I don’t help myself to any food until I’ve watched them eat first. Can’t be too careful. And I limit myself to a single beer.

The air is getting chilly and I’m glad I snatched a hoodie from my bag at the last minute. The Tempesta boys seem intent on pretending that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Fort strums a guitar. Getty has replaced his knife with a length of rope and practices complicated knots. I doubt I’d want to know what he’s planning to use that skill for. Julian, believe it or not, calmly reads a paperback copy of DUNE by the light of the fire. Tye, who has been drinking like a fish for the last hour, yanks off his shirt and howls at the moon. I shouldn’t be surprised to see the same tattoo on his arm that’s on mine. I remember the night we all got them.

Family is everything.

Sure it is. Until you decline to join their mafia empire and they try to drown your brother and beat you to death. Then, not so much.

“Fortunato,” Tye complains. “When are you gonna learn how to play some actual songs?”

Fort scowls at his brother. “Since you’re not playing with anything but your own dick nowadays, shut the fuck up, you hockey has-been.”

Tye sways on his feet and brays with laughter. He must be too drunk to feel insulted.

There’s a brief second when I nearly join in the laughter. Then I remember that things aren’t the way they used to be.

“So where do you think the cattle went?” I ask.

Getty snorts and tightens another knot.

“I saw their tracks.” Julian turns another page of his book and doesn’t look up. “Our best bet is to follow the creek into the hills tomorrow.”

“And then what?”

“Then hopefully we’ll find them, Monte.”

What a crock of shit. Whenever Cass Tempesta returns and decides this stupid trip is over, we’ll be coming back empty handed.

I’m still fuming when I walk past the horses into the trees to take a piss. Tye is howling at the moon again. Fucking idiot.

Once more, I wish like hell that I was with Sabrina instead of here. She’s probably crawling into bed with her laptop right about now. I think of her looking sadly at the empty space in the bed where I should be and my heart lurches.

Wait for me, Brina. I’m coming back for you.

We’re not that far away from the ranch. If I text her, the message might go through. I can’t really risk calling with this tribe of dicks listening in but I need to have some contact with her or I’ll lose my mind.

When I reach into my back pocket, my phone isn’t there. Right. Because I took it out after unrolling the sleeping bag. I checked to see if any new texts had come through and then got distracted by some petty argument between Tye and Getty.

I zip up in a hurry and jog back to the campsite. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. Tye must have tired himself out and now he’s plunked his drunken ass down by the fire. Fort is lying down with his hat pulled over his face. Julian still reads his book. And Getty is now screwing around with a deck of cards, shuffling the deck with such speed that even Sabrina would be impressed.

The sleeping bag is just where I left it. But my phone is missing. I try not to seem frantic as I pat down the whole area.

Tye pokes a stick in the fire. “Did you lose something, Monte?”

I peel up the sleeping bag and check underneath. Not there. “All right, who took my fucking phone?”

“Don’t know,” Getty says. “Where’d you see it last, cupcake ?”

I drop the sleeping bag. Getty shuffles his cards and grins at me. Fort pulls his hat back away from his face to watch what happens next.

And what happens next is Getty Tempesta gets the fucking wind knocked out of him. I have no doubt that he’s the culprit. Besides, he’s pissed me off the most today after staying right on my ass for the whole ride.

I did look at my phone while I was riding. Either he has more talents than I thought and he hacked into the thing or else he simply managed to glimpse the last text I sent to Sabrina and has now decided to see how far he can push me.

I’ve got him down and land a couple of good blows before his brothers pull me off. Someone, Tye I think, punches me in the stomach. Another fist lands on my right kidney and sends me to my knees. I’m just starting to realize my own damn stupidity in taking the bait. I was forced to give up my gun before we left but as far as I know, Getty still has his knife.

And, like I noted earlier, it’s still four of them and one of me.

Well, if they want to take me down they better be prepared to bleed a lot.

“ENOUGH!” Julian roars.

The iron grip on my arms is released. Julian seizes my shirt and yanks me back up. It seems as if murdering me tonight really isn’t the plan. What a relief.

Julian shoves me back toward my sleeping bag and turns on his brothers, glaring at each one in turn. “Knock this shit off,” he warns and returns to his book.

Getty is sitting up now and bleeding from the mouth. Tye hands him his own shirt to mop up the blood.

“I want my phone back,” I say. “Now.”

Fort, bored with this spectacle, is already lying down again. His hat gets pulled back over his face.

“Hey Monte,” says Getty. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news about your phone.”

“And what the fuck does that mean?”

Getty bends his arm back and hurls an object into the creek, where it lands with a plop.

“I dropped it,” he says and flashes a bloody grin.

I’ll never win a battle against the four of them. My only option is to hiss out a breath of fury and walk to the creek. The water is freezing and dark as ink with only a quarter moon tonight. I’ll never find the phone in the dark and it’s not as if it will work anyway.

When I return, Julian closes his book and watches me drop miserably back down on the sleeping bag. “Look, I’ll make sure you get a new phone.”

If I was less tired, I’d instruct my cousin to take his new phone offer and go fuck himself.

Tye is already passed out with a bottle of whiskey in one hand. Fort stays in his own little cowboy world beneath his hat. Only Getty smirks at me from the other side of the campfire.

Ignoring them all, I pull off my shoes and climb into the sleeping bag. A lack of rest will only make me less levelheaded and quicker to lash out.

But if I could actually manage to sleep with one eye open tonight, then I would.