Page 35 of Wild and Unruly (Three Rivers Trevors Ranch #3)

bonnie

I immediately want to get out of here. Without opening my apartment door, I turn and leave, keeping my wits about me on the way to the parking garage where my truck sits and watching for shadows on every corner.

I feel dread and fear coat my skin like goose bumps. Every sound, every car horn beeping, every scuffed shoe against pavement makes me jump.

I hold my keys in my hand, remembering to stick a key between each finger in case Tommy doubles back and changes his mind. I don’t know what I can do if he does attack, but I’m not about to find out.

My head is throbbing, and I feel a trickle of something slide down my face, wondering belatedly if there was blood. All I needed to do was drive a few blocks to my mom’s place, and I would be okay. I just need to be around people. I probably won’t even come back tonight.

Safely tucked away in my truck, I start the drive and am there within minutes, using my key to unlock the door. I enter only to find my brother in the same position he was in the last time I was here.

Only his eyes are bright with tears when he takes in my appearance. “Bonnie?”

“Is Mom here?” I ask, now realizing how sore and hoarse my throat feels after he nearly choked me to unconsciousness.

“No, she’s at her book club,” he says, moving his arms like he’s going to get up, only to struggle to reach his wheelchair. “What happened to you?”

“Oh,” I say, not answering his questions. I reach up to touch the blood on my forehead and freeze when the next words that come out of his mouth are, “What the hell were you thinking?”

I blink, confused and frustrated and hurt by this whole night that I’m not sure I even follow what he’s talking about. “What?”

“Going after the Smiths? Are you out of your mind?” His voice rises, and I hold still as his words slice through me.

“I was trying to get him to stop. He’s the reason you’re in the mess you’re in!” For the first time since my brother’s accident, I yell at him.

Everything boiling beneath the surface, everything that’s hurt and stressed me out for the last six years is now unleashed at his ungrateful attitude.

“I can’t believe that you’re letting what happened to you destroy your life! You are made for so much more than this, Mason. But you’re throwing your life away!”

“What I do with my life is none of your business.” His reply is weak at best. I can tell he believes what I’m saying but just isn’t admitting it.

“None of my business? Who has been here for you through everything? Who has stuck up for you when people said that you were wasting your life? When Dad left, I was here for you. When Daphne gave in to your horrible words and actions, I stuck by you. Mom and I are the only ones you have in your corner, and how do you thank us? By doing nothing!”

Pinching his lips together, he says, “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“Don’t I, though?” My tone softens but my head is still pounding.

Mason doesn’t say anything, just stares at me while I talk, his gaze occasionally going to my temple.

“I’ve been through it with you, Mase. I was there when the accident happened, when that horse landed on you.

I had to watch in horror with no way to stop it from happening.

I was there when you were in the hospital, when the horses were ripped from us, when the trajectory of our entire future was gone in the blink of an eye. I was there.”

I sigh, letting out a weak, sad laugh, allowing tears to freely fall from my eyes.

I was so tired.

I tried sticking up for my family and got burned. I tried to get vengeance for people who didn’t even seem to want it and got burned. I was really, really sick of all of it and just wanted to curl up in bed, wrap myself in a blanket, and sob.

“You know what?” I raise a hand and let it fall, slapping loudly in the empty space between us before turning. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Bonnie—”

“No, it’s fine. Just…I think I need some space.”

Glancing at my brother is a mistake, but I ignore the pooling hurt there, the grief, the anxiety, the worry.

“Bonnie,” he starts as I open the door, his form leaning forward in his chair, his earlier pursuit of his wheelchair over. “Please.”

But I can’t hear another word. My head is throbbing, my body aches from being thrown around, and my throat feels like, well, someone choked me.

It was time to go home, whether I like it or not.