“I took out a loan,” he mutters. “Not even selling your pictures touched the interest, let alone the principal. The tape would probably do the same. Except that one of you and the cowboy just might chip away at a little principal. Maybe.”
“What are you talking about?” I demand.
He lifts his hand and runs his fingers through his hair, and it’s then that I notice his hand is trembling. He’s scared. Fucking terrified. Scooting a little forward in my chair, I lean in and look into his eyes, really look. They’re bloodshot and he’s got makeup on, but I can see the dark circles and bags beneath his eyes that have never been there before.
“Tell me what is going on, Sebastian.”
He nods, gulping, then he inhales a deep breath. “All I needed was one really great role to pay it back, one big payday.”
“Who did you borrow money from?”
He licks his lips, tilting his head to the side. “The Russians,” he whispers.
I blink, unsure of what that means exactly. I’ve heard rumors that there is a Russian mafia presence here in Los Angeles, but I’ve never actually seen it before or heard anything more than just rumors.
“Sebastian,” I whisper. “I don’t know exactly what that means.”
He stands abruptly and shakes his head as he begins to pace. “It means that I borrowed an extremely large amount of money from the Russian Bratva and they want their fucking money back. I don’t even have enough to pay the interest, but they want it in full or I’m dead.”
FORD
I work.
It’s what I do.
Every day I get up before the sun and work until the sun sets. I hardly eat, sleep even less and drink more than I should. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen Stephanie. I would be a liar if I said that I didn’t miss her. I do. I’m not sure why, she flew into town for just days and then bounced right the hell back out.
Finding the number in my phone, I let out a groan, knowing that I need to call this person and dreading it all at the same time.
“What’s up, cuz?”
Rolling my eyes to the sky, I let out a sigh. “You and Bubba down to help me out?”
He waits for a moment, not saying anything. He likes to make me sweat, the bastard. He does this every goddamn season and he always, always comes and helps me out—always. Because if there’s one thing my cousin Jimmy likes, it’s cash and I pay in cash.
“Bubba can’t make it, you didn’t hear?”
“What happened?”
He lets out a low whistle. “He got locked up, got caught poaching.”
“Fuck, what’d he poach?”
Jimmy chuckles. “The fuckin’ idiot. Went on one of them big game ranches, got a huge fuckin’ prized buck. Don’t know what the shit he was thinkin’.”
“Wasn’t,” I mutter.
He laughs. “’Suppose not. Anyway, my wife’ll come and help us out. She needs outta the house. Been bitchin’ that the kids are drivin’ her crazy. You still got that little house up there?”
Images of the little house pop into my head, flashes of what I did there, with and to Stephanie. My cock twitches at the thought, then immediately deflates when I remember that she’s gone and she’s not coming back, not ever.
“Yeah. Y’all come down. Help me out and you can stay there free of charge.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I give him the dates and he promises he’ll be here. My cousin Jimmy may be kind of lazy, but he’s always true to his word and his wife is nice. I haven’t seen her since they had their third baby and it’ll be good to be around a little family, especially with the way I’ve been feeling lately.
My phone rings a few minutes later. I’ve been avoiding this call for longer than I should, not wanting to really think or hear any more about Stephanie, but considering I can’t get her out of my fucking head, I’m done pussyfooting around.
“Yeah,” I sigh.
“He lives,” the voice on the other end chuckles.
“What’s up?”
He doesn’t say anything right away, then he clears his throat. “You’re good, right?”
I hum, not wishing to commit to an answer. Am I breathing? Sure. Am I living? I haven’t been for seventeen years. Am I okay? Not really.
“I’m going to be heading out to do some radio shit and a late-night show. Taking Hutton and the baby with me, having a little get-together tonight before we leave in a couple of days. You’ll come?”
“What time?”
“Five.”
“I’ll be there,” I promise.
He doesn’t say anything else right away and I think that he’s hung up, but then he speaks. “I’ll be in Los Angeles. You want me to look her up? Talk to her?”
His words cause my heart to squeeze inside of my chest. I should tell him, fuck no. I can’t. I need to know if she’s as miserable as I am.
I’ve been pretty good about staying away from my phone, not wanting to see if she’s been out and about, just to see a grainy image of her, I’d take that. But I don’t torture myself more than I need to.
“Yeah, make sure she’s okay? I know that packing up her parents’ place had to have been hard.”
Beaumont chuckles, but it’s not out of humor, it sounds sad and it fits the mood I’m in, it fits my life. I’m fucking sad. My existence is sad as fuck too. Work, work, eat, sleep, and start all over again, every fucking day over and over until I die. That’s my future.
“I can do that for you, brother. See you in a few hours?”
“I’ll be there.”
Ending the call, I look around the property. I have one more board to replace and the fence is finished. Next week I’ll be heading down to Fort Worth to sell my cattle. I should be pleased, not only with myself, but with what’s coming ahead. I’m not.
What’s the point of any of it, when I’m alone?
Maybe the time has come for me to find someone and settle down. I can’t wait for Stephanie, and the idea of this life continuing on repeat makes me want to end it all. This can’t be what is in store for me.
I need to give up the dream that there is someone out there who makes me feel anything near what Stephanie does and settle with someone nice. Someone that wants to be a rancher’s wife, that wants to live in an old farmhouse, wants to have a few kids and just live a peaceful life.
My mind is made up.
Inhaling a deep breath, I decide that tonight I’m going to enlist the wives’ help in finding me someone from town. They have to know a pretty, nice girl. Someone who looks nothing like Stephanie. A brunette, a redhead, I don’t care. Just no blondes.
Chapter Seventeen
FORD
“You want us to, what?” Tulip asks, her lips parting in awe.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I shrug a shoulder. “Find me a nice girl, one who doesn’t look anything like Stephanie. I’m ready to settle down.”
“What about, I don’t know… Stephanie?” Hutton asks, emphasizing her name.
I shake my head a couple of times. “She’s gone. I haven’t heard from her since before she left. It’s clear she doesn’t want anything to do with me,” I mutter.