My heart leaps when I hear that alarm go off again, thinking Bronco came back to get me or something. I rush over toward the door and swing it open, but my stomach drops when I see my father’s old truck pulling down the long driveway toward me.

I rush back into the house and slam the door before locking it.

“Come on, girl, I don’t got all day,” he shouts after I hear the sound of the old truck door opening and then closing. His footsteps are heavy on the steps up to the porch. “I’ve come to collect.”

“Collect?” I ask through the door. What the hell does that mean?

“Bronco got what he wanted, time for you to go.” I swallow the lump that rises in my throat. Did I scare Bronco off because I told him I loved him? Was it something the sheriff said? It doesn’t matter. No one is collecting me.

“That might be so, but I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll find my own way out of here.”

“To where?” He laughs. The sounds make my skin crawl. I’m hurting, and he’s laughing. “You belong to me. Always have, always will.” His voice is sinister, and I think he really does despise me. Maybe it’s because I look too much like my mother. The one woman who walked away from him.

Some things never change. Or maybe nothing ever changes.

Chapter Sixteen

Bronco

It’s a quick ride back to the Circle C, but when I pull into the parking lot, I can see several people standing around. Maguire told me I needed to come see for myself but didn’t elaborate. The sheriff rode with him so when we all get out, I look at them, wondering what the fuck is going on.

“There’s been a riot,” Maguire tells me, and the sheriff nods to his men by the entrance.

“Security caught Mr. Walker on camera bringing the wild bull into the stalls last night. He had help from a couple of riders.”

“I fucking knew it,” I say through gritted teeth. “So what’s with the crowd?”

The sheriff nods to the group of cowboys by the entrance. “Apparently some of the guys found the riders that helped Walker sneak the bull in and decided to handle the punishment themselves.” The sheriff shrugs. “Not that I blame them. Walker was running scams out of the arena, and the assholes that brought in the bull were in on it.”

“Well, ain't this a fucking mess.” I sigh and shake my head.

“I’ve tried to tell them to get out of here, but they demanded to talk to you,” Maguire says.

“Then let’s get it over with.”

The riders from last night are standing around three guys that look beat to hell but are thankfully still alive. When I get close, one of them steps forward, and I see it’s the rider from last night that got injured.

“Jericho, why the fuck aren’t you in the hospital?” I ask, and he shrugs.