Tied

by KB Winters

  I liked that, the idea that my emotions were a strength instead of the weakness I’d always considered them. “Maybe you’re right Peaches.”

  “I am right,” she said confidently and shrugged her shoulders.

  Maybe she was right and it was my turn to be bold and brave. To go after exactly what I wanted instead of merely existing. Right now, the only thing I wanted was Cruz. All day. Everyday. Every night. Every fucking minute in between.

  He’d already shown me, in so many ways, what kind of man he was. How could I have avoided falling for him? As good as he was, accepting this proposal to help me out, he’d been nothing short of an angel for the past twenty-four hours. A big strong man like him, behaving so gently, had a way of touching a girl down to her soul, and my lonely soul was positively shook.

  “You are, right,” I agreed.

  “Good. Go get him.” She nodded into the distance, and I turned in that direction, squinting against the sun to see Cruz’s familiar walk headed right towards us.

  “I can’t.” There was something odd about the set of his shoulders, the way he hunched forward against the non-existent chill in the air, like he was protecting himself against something.

  “What if he’s coming to tell me to pack my things and leave the ranch?”

  “He’s not. That man has it bad, trust me. I had to keep him in line while you were kidnapped. Sorry,” she said when I winced at the word. “He was a fucking mess, pacing and threatening to skin people alive. It was hot. And sweet. And all of that equals him wanting you.”

  Wanting me in bed maybe, but that would fade. Soon probably.

  “Here goes nothing.”

  “Good luck,” Peaches whispered and patted me on the back, punctuating it with a supportive push in his direction.

  My legs felt like lead as they ate up the wild grass that surrounded the horse stalls, but my heart soared. With every step I felt lighter and freer, like maybe, just maybe this was one of those pivotal moments in life where taking the chance pays off in a big way. My steps picked up in my eagerness to get to Cruz, to be closer and see the swirling blues of his eyes, the honeyed color of his skin, and the little dimples he tried to hide when he laughed.

  My steps slowed as I took in his posture once more. His shoulders were hunched forward, his brows were dipped into a low, angry ‘V’ and my feet stopped altogether. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s…fuck, I don’t know how to say this to you, Hennessy.”

  I sucked in a deep breath as my mind played all the possibilities of what Cruz was about to say, landing on the distinct possibility that he was about to kick me out of his life for good.

  “Just say it.”

  I stood still, hands balled into fists at my side with my eyes squeezed tight, as if that would somehow protect me against the words he was about to say.

  “Look at me Hennessy.”

  I shook my head. “I can hear you just fine. Say the words, Cruz.”

  He sighed and stepped closer. I knew he did because my body was instantly ten degrees hotter.

  “Open your eyes, you stubborn-ass woman.”

  The amusement in his voice threw me off, and I peeked one eye open.

  “What is it? Just tell me. Please.”

  His arms came around me, tight, holding me close as he whispered in my ear the words I never ever expected to hear.

  Injuries too severe. Lost a lot of blood. Internal bleeding. Couldn’t save him. It all amounted to one hard fact. Homer was dead. My father was no longer among the living.

  “No!” I pushed at his chest but Cruz only held me tighter, determined to be my anchor when the world was threatening to toss me around until I couldn’t recover. “No.”

  “I’m sorry baby. I went to check on him, to see if he needed anything for his stay in the hospital.” He spoke in a firm whisper that left no doubt of their truthfulness, especially when combined with the agony in his voice.

  “He wanted you to know how sorry he was and how much he loved you. Said you were his greatest accomplishment.”

  Tears streamed down my face at his softly spoken words, as the image of the Homer I used to know flashed in my mind. Before he was old and gray, before he neglected everything in the name of chasing the next win. Instead, I remembered him when I was a kid, when I was happy for that little bit of pocket change he always gave me and the fistful of candy he always left for me between visits.

  Those memories were all I had of Homer now. They would have to be enough.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Cruz

  Homer was dead, and I had to be the one to break the news to Hennessy. There were about ten other, better ways I could have broken the news to her other than fucking blurting it out the way I did. But I wasn’t known for my eloquence or my tact, so I went with the easiest way to make she sure understood. Her father was dead.

  “I’m sorry, Henny baby. So fuckin’ sorry.”

  Her face was blank, expressionless as the words sank in, words she never thought she’d hear, at least not anytime soon.

  “No.” It was one word, but it was fierce, slicing through my flesh with ease. She stood in front of me, trying like hell not to fall apart. For the first time in my life, I wished I was a man more gifted with words so I could have said it in a way that wouldn’t rip her heart out of her chest.

  Because now Hennessy’s feelings mattered to me. A lot. For real.

  When the tears finally broke, I was there. I did what I could and gave her my broad shoulders to fall apart on, and she clung to me. Her fingernails clawed at my shoulders and back as tears poured out of her, along with big, heaving sobs that shook her. Anger and sadness erupted out of her, turning her clawing hands to pounding fists until finally she just leaned into me, pressing her soft weight into me. Confident I’d carry this burden for her, which I was happy to do.

  “Hen, babe.”

  Small aftershocks vibrated her body until finally, minutes later, she ran out of tears. Sort of.

  “You know the worst part?” she said.

  She shook as if at a memory, and I tried to pretend like this was a perfectly normal conversation.

  “How angry Eugene was, and how crazed he looked so filled with vengeance. It flowed from him and there I was, completely fucking powerless to do anything about it.”

  She shuddered as if suddenly overcome by the memories, days later. “And with every touch, I blamed Homer. I hated him. And when Eugene put his mouth on me and his fingers…” she trailed off as the memory shook her. I didn’t need to be a genius to figure out the rest of that sentence.

  “When he did that, I wished him dead, Cruz. I wished my own fucking father dead.”

  Sobs escaped from her again, and I held her tighter, now understanding her grief.

  “None of this shit is your fault, Hennessy. None of it.”

  I’d kill that old fuckin’ mobster a second time if I could, just to relieve her of this pain.

  “Homer’s injuries were too bad. The doctors did what they could, but he was old and in bad health.”

  If anything, he died because it took us too long to decide on a plan of action and execute, but I didn’t say that to her.

  She shook her head again, trying to wiggle out of my grasp without much success.

  “No. I wished him fucking dead and now he’s dead. Do you have any idea what this feels like? I’m sorry he’s dead, but I’m still mad at him. So. Fucking. Mad.”

  Her words were muffled by tears and I debated on whether or not to share one final piece of bad news. “What? What else do you have for me?”

  My gaze was completely focused on Hen and her red hair, those fiery green eyes that even now, hadn’t lost their spark.

  “Just say it, Cruz. Whatever it is, just spit it the fuck out. Please.”

  One frustrated hand swiped away at tears that kept falling, and the other pushed a fat red curl from her face.

  I sucked in a deep breath and just blurted it out. Again. “Homer had stage
two cancer. It was treatable, but he’d already decided against treatment.”

  How the fuck it was possible for her skin to get even paler, I wasn’t sure, but she turned transparent at the news. “How long?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “How fucking long? Tell me.”

  “At least two months according to the records the doctor had.” Thankfully, Opey was a small town and knowing everybody had its perks.

  Instead of crying or screaming or railing against the world, she shocked the hell out of me when she laughed. Even though tears continued to stream down her cheeks, she kept on laughing until the sound turned from amused to bitter. Brittle. Angry.

  “Now it all makes sense. It’s fucked up as hell, but it all makes sense. He knew he wouldn’t make it out alive and had probably decided to bet it all knowing he was dying.” Another brittle laugh escaped. Hen was about to go full blown psycho. “I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse, honestly.”

  It made me wish I’d been the one to kill that fucker.

  “Thanks Cruz, for letting me know.”

  I wasn’t ready to walk away from Hennessy. Hell I wasn’t sure I would ever be ready for that, but I knew right now she needed space. She needed time to process her feelings about Homer’s death and all the other fucked up shit she’d been through since before she crash landed at Hardtail Ranch.

  “I’m here if you need me, Hen.”

  She turned at my words and smiled. It was sad, almost wistful, but it was a real smile, and there was a hint of something else in her eyes that kept hope alive.

  I watched her walk away with purposeful strides that said she was back to trying to keep her emotions in check. She could have her space for now, but soon we would talk.

  Then, I would make her mine.

  For real.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Hennessy

  Standing there in the middle of the clearing Peaches and Aspen had chosen as a final resting spot for Homer’s ashes, I was angry, and I was sad. And wishing the end of this day didn’t meant that I’d have to say goodbye to Cruz, as well. Two men who’d both left indelible impressions on my heart, and I had to say goodbye to both of them on the same damn day. Life was a cruel bitch sometimes.

  But today wasn’t about the unfairness of life. Or me. Or Cruz. It was about Homer, mediocre father, terrible husband, and degenerate gambler. He was all of that and probably a lot more to other people in this world, but he was also gone from this world. No longer, hopefully, capable of causing pain to others. Or to himself. It was a small blessing, but it still hurt.

  “Sweetheart, I am so so sorry for your loss.”

  My mom, Sissy, had arrived yesterday afternoon with my stepfather, Grant. If they were at all surprised to find me here with Cruz, neither of them had said anything. Yet.

  “So, so sorry.” She wrapped her thin frame around mine and Grant in turn wrapped his big frame, so much like Cruz’s, around us both.

  “I know, Mom. Thanks.” I let her hug me, more because she needed it more than I did. In the week since I found out about his death, I had cried plenty, mostly for myself, but tears don’t give a shit. They fall regardless.

  “It means a lot that you came.” I knew she had loved Homer, and if he’d been capable of getting his shit together, we’d still be one big happy family. But she was happier with Grant than anytime I could remember before he came into our lives, which made me happy for her.

  “At least now he’s done gambling.” Mom sighed in that way of hers that was part nervous tick and part embarrassment over emotions she felt were inappropriate. You’d think she grew up rich with the way she kept up with ridiculous rules of etiquette.

  I nodded at her words. “It’s fine, Mom. He wasn’t a good man, but it’s still sad that he’s gone. The few good memories I have of him are the only ones I’ll ever have now, and that’s okay.”

  “Oh, honey.” She wrapped her bony arms around me in another hug and pressed a kiss to my cheek, practically vibrating with anxiety and grief.

  “This is an incredible view. Homer would have appreciated it once upon a time.”

  “He would have. It reminds me of a spot near Black Hawk that he always visited. Whether he won or lost, he’d take me up there and say, Henny this is what life is all about. It was total bullshit of course, but he did seem to really appreciate the view.”

  “That’s nice, honey.” That was her default when she didn’t know what to say, and I just smiled, happy to end the small talk. All the talk, honestly.

  Except Cruz chose that moment to join us and clasped our hands together before he pressed an affectionate kiss to my temple. The panty-melting spot and my panties melted right there at my father’s funeral. I didn’t miss the wide-eyed stare my mom shared with Grant, but I chose to keep silent on the matter.

  “Sissy. Dad. Thanks for coming,” Cruz said.

  Grant’s slightly lighter but still dirty blond brows furrowed into a disapproving scowl. “Just what the hell is going on here? You two look awful cozy.” He shook his head and scoffed in disgust. “You’re related for fuck’s sake!”

  Cruz scoffed and held me tighter, whether it was for his sake or my own, I wasn’t sure, but I leaned into him because it felt damn good.

  “You’re barely a father so spare me the family shit, Dad. Not now and definitely not here.”

  There had always been tension between them which I’d always chalked up to Cruz’s loyalty to Esme, but now it seemed like something more.

  “This isn’t right, Cruz, you have to see that.”

  Cruz didn’t have to see anything, judging from his expression when he stepped into Grant’s face. “We’re one big happy fucking family, are we?”

  He looked around at the rest of the Reckless Bastards, gathered in smaller circles with their women and children. Without all the leather, denim, and tattoos, it could have been any small town American family event.

  “Yeah, we are.”

  “Then why is it that neither you nor Sissy knew that Homer bet his daughter in a goddamn poker game? That the fuckin’ gangster who won her tracked her down all the way to Texas? Because Hennessy came here, to me, to help her. And you know what I did? I did what family is supposed to do. I married her to keep her safe. What the fuck did you do?”

  Grant floundered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping its last breath and Cruz laughed.

  “That’s what I thought. It’s done and we don’t need your blessing—or your goddamn permission.”

  I sank into Cruz’s masculine warmth when he pulled me close again and kissed my forehead, thankful he didn’t go into any more detail of my ordeal.

  Mom sucked in a horrified breath, complete with her hands over her heart just in case it chose this moment to leap from her chest.

  “Oh my sweet girl,” she said and flung her arms around Cruz. “Thank you so much for keeping her safe.”

  “You’re welcome,” he grunted in that gruff tone I’d grown to love since coming here and getting reacquainted with Cruz. He was uncomfortable as hell but Cruz accepted all the love Mom heaped on him because apparently, she needed to do it.

  “I’m happy to keep Hennessy safe. She’s special to me.”

  Mom looked at him and then me, a wide beaming smile. “She sure is. It’s the luck of the Irish. That’s what Homer used to say.”

  “I remember that. The red hair and green eyes. He said I was even better than a four leaf clover.” Not that it had helped him win more than a handful of times.

  “I guess you stepped up.” Grant reluctantly offered praise as he always did, bitter that Cruz had already surpassed his achievements.

  “I always step up.” Cruz’s words were punctuated by the possessive way he gripped me at the hips. “Always.”

  Grant nodded, accepting his son’s words at face value but not the spirit of them.

  “Makes sense. Now that the trouble is over, you’ll get an annulment. I’ll get you in touch my lawyer.
”

  His expectant tone rubbed me and Cruz the wrong way, but I knew Cruz had this. His chest expanded with one controlled breath and his deep blue gaze looked into matching royal blue eyes with steely determination.

  “When Hennessy and I figure it out, we’ll let you know. Excuse us.”

  “Tell me that was as awful as it felt,” I whispered to him as soon as we were out of ear shot of our parents.

  “It wasn’t as bad as I expected, but it wasn’t pleasant. Having you there helped.” The way he held my face and cupped it gently made me feel cherished. Precious. I smiled up and accepted his sweet kiss that quickly turned smoldering.

  “You good?”

  I nodded, because I knew what he was asking. I was okay and I would be okay. It was time to officially say goodbye to Homer.

  “As good as I can be, but yeah, I think I’m on the road to peace and recovery and all that healthy bullshit.”

  He laughed, and I joined in before grabbing his face and kissing the hell out of him. “I’m pretty sure it’s all thanks to you, Cruz.”

  And I hoped like hell that today wouldn’t be the last day I got to spend with him.

  “I’m pretty sure it was all you, but I’ll take the compliment.”

  When Cruz wrapped his arms around me and squeezed, I felt really and truly loved. Not for the first time in my life, but this was the first time I felt it from someone other than my mom and grandparents. And it felt really fucking good. As in, a girl could get used to this kind of good.

  “We’ll talk about everything else later. For now, go heal and shit.”

  He winked and smacked my ass, wearing a big proud smile as I turned towards the front of the gathered crowd.

  Time to say goodbye to Homer. “Thanks. And Cruz?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We will talk. Tonight.”

  A smile spread and it was wide and gorgeous and it stole my breath.

  “Bet your sweet ass we will, babe.”

  Exactly the words I wanted to hear, and I walked forward, through the crowd and toward the podium set up with the Reckless Bastards emblem on it. I stood in front of the rag tag group that was equal part friends and family, took a deep breath and gave Homer a proper send off to the afterlife.