Page 12 of The Rogue (Four Corners Ranch #11)
He looked genuinely appalled. “Have you ever left this ranch? Have you ever talked to... a single other person about me? I am a destroyer of worlds. I have never been one to shy away from a bar fight. There have been marriages in this county that were hanging on by a thread and I cut that thread. Gave the missus a good time, and an escape route. I am not sweet.”
“You’re very sweet to me,” she said, ignoring all of his bluster, because what was even the point in engaging with it?
“You’re my friend. And you’re the only person on this damned earth who bears that title. So stop applying good intent to me,
when you have no idea. Because you don’t know who I am when I’m away from you.”
“Aha,” she said, pointing her finger at him. “That is my point.”
“Because it’s bullshit you don’t want to see,” he said. “You don’t want this. You want the Justice that you know. Trust me.”
“You said that I should live like you. So how can I do that if I don’t actually know who you are?”
“I didn’t mean... I did not mean that you should actually literally pattern any part of your life after mine. Let’s go
to the bank.”
He turned and started to stomp out of the house. “Are you going in that?”
He looked down at his black shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots. “What’s wrong with this?”
“Nothing. For wrangling cattle.”
“I was unaware that the bank had a dress code.”
“I’d like to go in not looking like we’re a pair of dissolute reprobates.”
“Well, that’s what I am.”
She rolled her eyes and walked past him out to the truck. “See,” he said, moving past her and getting in the driver’s side, hanging out the halfway-open door. “I’m not sweet. And I’m not going to do what you tell me.”
He closed the door, and she growled, then stepped over to the passenger side and opened the door up. She got in and buckled
ferociously. One thing she would say about Justice was that he was a safe space. Because in the past fifteen minutes she had
cycled through jealousy, insecurity and deep, unending irritation. All with the same person. All with an underlying sense
of security.
Yes, for a moment she had felt worried. For a moment she had felt insecure. But she didn’t have to feel that way with him.
“The real problem is the banker is still going to flirt with you,” she said as they drove down the long dirt driveway that
would take them out to the main road.
“I know,” he said.
“You’re so confident.”
He lifted a shoulder. “In certain things. I have no reason not to be.”
That made her want to howl. Because she had so many reasons to not be confident right now. Apparently hanging out with Justice for the better part of her life hadn’t done anything to make
her absorb any of that confidence.
“I’m going to need some of that,” she said.
“Some of what?”
“Your confidence. Because you are... You’re you. You know?”
“Yeah. I am me.”
“I don’t know how you have all that confidence. I’ve never had it, I have always just wanted to be secure. And now I don’t even have that. I need... I need swagger.”
He laughed. A good flaw, really.
“Swagger. Is that what you think I have?”
“Yes.”
“Rue, swagger is for men who need to put on a show. I’m good.”
She slapped her hand on her thigh. “There it is again. Full confidence. No brakes. It’s insane, really.”
“Listen. I never put myself into situations where I can’t be confident. I know that when it comes to ranching I can get the
job done. Ditto taking a woman to bed.”
Those words made her face feel hot. She gritted her teeth and didn’t overthink it. “Great. I had the one lover, who I thought
was fine enough with my skills in bed. And now I don’t have that. Not even a little bit. I don’t know how to get back...”
She didn’t have a house. She wasn’t getting married.
“I am so tired of myself,” she said.
“There may not be a quick fix for it,” he said. “But this is the first stop.”
“I need music. But not sad music.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m sure. I don’t want sad music.”
“I could play you your favorite emo band.”
“Don’t,” she said, but she smiled.
Which was how she found herself rocking out in Justice’s truck to music from the early 2000s. That carried them all the way to Mapleton and saved her from being completely maudlin. And she marveled again at Justice’s ability to carry her through multiple moods in one extended moment.
The bank was in an old brick building on Mapleton’s main street, and Justice pulled up to the curb, while Rue worked at psyching
herself up.
“You know what’s wrong with all of this,” she said as she got out of the truck.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“It’s that none of this is moving at a slow enough pace for me to make a binder or laminate anything.”
“Well. We could laminate Asher’s dick.”
It was such an unexpected thing to hear on a public street, and she couldn’t help herself. She laughed. She didn’t just laugh;
she began to laugh hysterically. Because she was hysterical. Because everything that had happened in the last couple of days
was outrageous. And here she was just marinating in all of it. Unable to escape. She would be dealing with the issue with
the house even if she and Asher had gotten married, and if she stood back for a second she could realize that. That the issue
with the house was separate. That it was something she and Asher would be dealing with together instead of her and Justice.
But it felt entwined. It certainly compounded the issue. It was just... horrendous. And she was wounded, angry, and the
idea of laminating her ex-fiancé’s penis was really the most ridiculous and hilarious thing she had ever thought of.
“You okay there?”
“I’m fine,” she wheezed. “I mean, I’m not fine. Nothing is fine. Everything is terrible. But that was hilarious. Like genuinely
the funniest thing you could’ve said.”
“I’m here all week.”
She wiped the tears out of her eyes. “Now I have to go do serious banking.”
“Well, at least you’ll do it with a little bit more of a bounce in your step.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I know.”
They walked in together, and Rue approached the banker’s desk cautiously. “I have to speak to someone about a home loan.”
“An established loan?”
“Yes. It’s a little bit complicated, though. It was my grandmother’s, and she died, and there’s an account for it, and the
money just comes out.”
“Do you have the loan number?”
“Yes.”
She gave all the information to the woman sitting at the desk.
The woman frowned. “We don’t own this loan any longer. It was transferred to another mortgage company two months ago.”
“What?”
“This kind of thing happens all the time.”
“You don’t have to... ask to sell somebody’s mortgage?”
“No,” the woman said.
“I don’t... That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I agree,” said Justice. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “It is.”
“I...”
“You would have gotten a notice in the mail.”
She always saw her mail. She always got notices. How had she not gotten this? She didn’t understand. Somehow, she had made a serious mistake. One that was making this whole thing more complicated.
The woman rubbed her temples, and then gave Rue an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll give you the info that I have.”
The woman started printing papers off, and then she handed them to Rue.
“This isn’t a local bank.”
“No,” the woman said. “It’s a big mortgage company. They buy a lot of loans in bulk. Hopefully they still have your loan.”
“You’re kidding me, right? Someone else can have my loan already?”
“It does happen,” the woman said.
Rue gripped the papers, and tried not to be rude. She knew that it wasn’t like the woman had caused the situation. It wasn’t
her fault. It wasn’t like she had done it to Rue personally.
They walked out onto the street, and Rue dialed the number for the loan company immediately. “Hi—”
It was a recorded message. She pressed a zero and stood there tapping her feet while Justice looked at her.
“I’m on hold,” she said. A jaunty song started playing in her ear and it made her angrier.
Someone on the other end picked up. And Rue began to explain the situation.
“We don’t have your name in the paperwork.”
She let out a short breath, knowing that her explanations weren’t the best, and having to repeat it like this made it pretty clear to her she should have questioned this before her grandmother passed, but it hadn’t seemed important.
Now it did. Essential, even. “There was a reason... But in my grandmother’s will I am the beneficiary.
It’s just that she didn’t have me switch the loan over—”
“It was being held as collateral. The bank has seized it because of the defaults on the loan. There’s an auction set for it
at the end of February.”
“How is this moving so quickly?”
“It wasn’t really all that quickly. The loan was in default for a couple of years.”
“My grandmother didn’t tell me any of this.”
“I am sorry,” the woman said. “I don’t know what your grandmother did or didn’t tell you. But the house is being sold to cover
the debt. It’s a cash auction.”
“I can’t even get a mortgage to get my house back?”
“No,” the woman said.
“But I...” And just suddenly, tears started to fall down Rue’s cheeks. Extremely angry tears. Because she was just so fed
up. With all of this. She had no control, no choices. And none of it was her fault. “But I’m not the one that made this decision.”
“Your grandmother left you something that had some baggage,” the woman said, her voice apologetic but firm. “These things
happen with inheritance. Sometimes they get seized because of unpaid property taxes. It’s a land mine.” She genuinely did
sound sorry, and Rue knew that she didn’t have to stay on the phone with her.
It was an ironic thing to say, though.
Her grandmother had left her something with baggage.
Rue already knew that. It was her own mother.
Wherever all that baggage had come from, Rue had loved her grandmother. And she had always been kind to Rue, but she knew