Page 55 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

THE HUDSON FAMILY HOME

Step back in time as you walk through this historically accurate replica of a family home in the Old West. You won’t find electricity or running water here, but that doesn’t mean it was a wholly uncomfortable place to be.

The house’s inhabitants will be more than happy to answer your questions on how they live and spend their days here.

N OAH

“Oh, come on ,” Sanny groaned and let his screwdriver clatter to the floor to pick up his phone instead. He swiped over the screen, shaking his head at whatever message had just come in.

I’d stopped asking. They were never from Esra.

I didn’t have to ask though. He turned his phone around and showed me a picture of Esra walking next to some polo-shirt-wearing guy with way too much gel in his hair.

It was taken from behind their backs, so I assumed at least one of his parents was there too.

That couldn’t be some super-romantic date.

Or maybe it was. I’d never really asked Esra how her parents felt about her dating life.

I knew they had been vehemently against Sinan living with a woman unless he’d put an engagement ring on her finger.

“Who’s that?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“They’re making her tour Yale.”

I wanted to yell at him that that didn’t answer my question. I wanted to know who the fuck the smarmy guy was and why the hell he was standing so close to Esra. Instead, I just said, “Huh.”

“I hate this guy.”

“Oh?” Smooth .

“I mean, I don’t know him now. But he was a walking shit stain when we were kids. Whacked me in the face with a tennis racket once and pretended it was an accident. I had two black eyes for weeks. One summer, he put Esra in the hospital when he shoved her off his family’s boat.”

“Then why the fuck’s she talking to him now?”

“I think he goes to the school she’s touring or something. I don’t know.”

“She shouldn’t be around this guy,” I said.

“Which is why my first reaction was ‘oh, come on’. ”

That was not an appropriate reaction if you asked me, but I was also losing all common sense when it came to Esra. She was probably perfectly safe. Little kids with violent tendencies didn’t always grow up to be violent adults.

I still wanted to rip that phone from Sanny’s hands, call his parents and tell them to get her the fuck away from that man.

Sinan sighed and picked the screwdriver back up, then went back to putting my new drawers together with me. Well, for me, because I wasn’t doing much other than staring at his phone right now. If I could have, I would have asked for hourly updates, just to make sure that guy wasn’t trying anything.

Unfortunately, I’d already asked Sinan to build this wardrobe with me due to my unrelenting obsession with his little sister, so I was all out of sister-related favors.

I hadn’t spelled it out like that. But after Esra left the staff housing complex, I didn’t want to stay either, so I had to make the ranch livable.

I’d lived in the Bravetown staff house for five years, but after a few weeks with Esra, I could see her standing in every corner, walking through every door, sitting on every surface and dangling her feet.

I’d been close to asking for his parents’ address once or twice now, but every single time, her pained scream echoed through my mind.

Sanny may not have blamed me, but I should have held Tornado still that day.

It was horsemanship 101, but I’d been so in my head about losing another person I cared about, I’d fucked up.

Maybe Esra didn’t need someone who took care of her, but at the very least, she deserved someone who wouldn’t endanger her. She deserved better than me.

Sanny took off in the late afternoon to pick Zuri up from work, leaving me alone at the ranch.

There was always something to work on, so I wandered past the to do lists taped up in the hallway and picked an item.

The gate of one of the stalls in the stable had come off its hinges.

That seemed easy enough and matched the unhinged thoughts I’d been harboring since seeing that photo on Sinan’s phone.

One day, I’d install completely new horse stalls out here.

I wanted to get the kind of doors that allowed you to open the upper half, so the horses could stick their heads out.

They were going to be great for first-time riders to meet the animals.

For now, I focused on getting the place fixed and polished.

I was packing up the tools after the light of day had faded from the stables when the sound of tires down the driveway gave me pause. Sanny and I were the only two people who ever came here. As far as I knew. I grabbed the hammer from my toolbox and inched toward the stable doors.

A small car stopped right by the front steps of the main house.

It looked familiar from the Bravetown parking lot, but I couldn’t place it yet.

It was almost dark out, and the porch light didn’t shine bright enough to illuminate the license plate either.

So I waited. Nobody emerged from the driver’s side.

It wasn’t until I stepped outside and could see a head of dark hair through the windows, the car lit up from inside, that I remembered who it belonged to.

My throat closed up.

The hammer dropped from my hand and landed in the dirt.

The woman inside the car turned, finally ready to open the door, and her big brown doe eyes met mine through the window and across the distance.

We stayed locked like that for a moment, neither of us moving.

She was here.

How was she here?

It didn’t make sense.

But she was here, and her shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh, and she was here, and she tilted her head and shrugged, and she was here, and the car door clicked open.

At the sound, my muscles sprang into action instinctively. I jogged down the small slope toward her.

“Esra?”

“Hi.” She climbed out of the car but leaned against it heavily, her head flopping to one side.

As I got closer, I could make out the dark crescents under her eyes and the shadows hollowing her cheeks.

She looked exhausted to the point of collapse.

“I prepared something that I want to say. I just don’t remember it right now. ”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, stepping closer with outstretched hands because I didn’t need her falling down again. She probably shouldn’t even have been driving with her shoulder still in a sling.

“I need to apolo—” Her good intentions were cut off as she swayed dangerously and closed her eyes. Her left arm waved through the air, grasping at the car for support.

I jumped forward. My hands closed around her middle, steadying her frame before she could topple over.

“Oh no,” she gasped.

“Let’s get you inside.” I wasn’t sure what was going on. She’d just been touring Yale with that walking hair gel tube and now she was close to fainting in my driveway– but she needed to lie down.

“No, no, no, I need to get this out, please.”

“Do you need to throw up?”

“Not like that.” She straightened back up and took a wavering step backward.

My fingertips brushed across her stomach as I untangled myself from her unusually bland T-shirt, only for me to hesitate and bring the back of my hand up to her forehead. “Jesus, Esra, you’re burning up.”

“Yeah.” She hiccupped a laugh. “I thought I was having a panic attack. But I think I’m getting sick.”

“I think you already are sick. Let’s get you to bed, come on.”

“One second, please.” She held up a single digit, then grabbed my forearm for support. Her nails dug into my skin as another dizzy spell had her leaning on me.

“Well, at least the manners are impeccable, princess.”

She giggled, then moaned and clutched her hand to her chest. “Ouch. No laughing.”

I maneuvered Esra on to the sofa and got her a bucket just in case she threw up, but that was as far as she let me take care of her. I tried offering a cold compress and she swatted me away.

“I need to apologize,” she huffed. Her face was flushed bright pink, tiny beads of sweat cresting above her brows.

“We can talk later, Esra. You should really be lying down.” I knelt in front of her and tried to take her shoes, but she kicked my hands off.

“No, look, I had a whole apology mapped out. It’s on my phone.” She patted her pockets, only to realize there was no phone. Her glassy eyes moved to the front door.

“I’ll get it,” I said.

“Stop. Will you just stop? I’ll do it myself later. Just sit down and let me tell you that I’ve fallen stupidly in love with you.”

I froze. “What did you just say?”

“Oh, you heard me, Young,” she snapped and squeezed her eyes shut, bending forward.

She gripped the edge of the sofa cushions until her knuckles turned white.

“Now can I please apologize for leaving the way I did?” She yelled those words into the space between her knees as she tried to keep her body from swaying.

A little dizzy spell was one thing, but she couldn’t even sit upright.

“Listen to me, you stubborn woman,” I sighed and sank down in front of her again.

This time, I held her feet firmly enough so she couldn’t shake me off.

I pulled her tennis shoes off first, then the ankle braces.

“You’re sick. You’re actually acutely sick.

So I’m going to take care of you, and you’re going to let me.

Because, right now, you need someone to look after you and make sure you get better.

That has nothing to do with me being overbearing.

I’m used to being the one who takes responsibility, so sometimes you might have to roll your pretty eyes at me and tell me to relax.

But you’ll have to accept that sometimes you just need help.

And I’m going to be here to help you because I love you too, so you’re stuck with me. ”

“Fine,” she mumbled and slowly blinked through tired lids, “but you might have to repeat all of that tomorrow.”

“I’ll repeat it every day if you need me to.”