Branded

by Candace Havens

  But he hadn’t.

  Bethany jumped up and ran into my open arms. “Men are stupid,” she said on a blubbery sigh.

  Tears clogged my throat. “Yep,” I managed. I cleared the emotion from my throat. “I hate seeing you so sad.”

  “I know. I don’t think I’ve ever let a guy get to me like this. He seemed so solid. Right up until the skank he was seeing behind my back posted photos on Instagram of them at a party. Ugh. I’m an idiot.”

  “Nope. The heart just can’t help falling for the wrong people sometimes.” God, I should just have this talk with myself.

  “So, shopping and drinking therapy. You cool with that?”

  You have no idea. “Well, there’s not much in the way of shops open this late here. Amarillo kind of closes up the boutiques around six. But, yes, ma’am, I’m ready to get my drink on. I’ll see if one of the ranch hands”—one who was not named Cole—“can take us into town. Then we don’t have to worry about driving home.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to feel bolder than I did. My friend needed me. Didn’t matter what else was going on with me. I would be there for her.

  …

  Five hours later, we’d helped rebuild the economy with our American Express cards, picking up some last-minute stuff we needed for the trip, then we’d eaten a really great dinner.

  We were four shots into getting our drink on at MC’s pub. “We don’t need men,” Bethany slurred a bit. “We’ve got each other.”

  We tapped glasses and the tequila burned as it slid down my throat. I didn’t even bother with the lime. “That’s right. Girl power.” I said the words, but I was sad. At least the tequila was numbing that part that wanted to break down in tears. So I ordered more.

  “Oh, Saint Cuervo, you are a friend of mine,” Bethany sang.

  “Preach it, sister,” I said as I threw back the sixth shot. “I like to drink you with a little salt and lime.”

  I heard some people laughing around us, and I threw up my hand. “Whoohooo, party!”

  Bethany high-fived me. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I picked it up and set it on the table.

  “Booty call?” Bethany asked.

  I gave a ladylike snort. Then I tried to focus on the text, but it was blurry. I brought it closer and saw it was from Cole. Where are you? We need to talk.

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, now he wants to talk.” I nearly slid off my stool. “Shit.” I started laugh.

  “Who?”

  That’s when I realized I’d said it out loud. “Friend of mine. No biggie.”

  I typed, Nah. I’m good. At least I thought that was what it said.

  The phone vibrated again. Are you drunk? Where are you???

  Jesus. How did he know? When my eyes focused, I realized I’d sent a bunch of gibberish. Didn’t matter. He thought I was out on a hot date, and he was going all caveman again. He didn’t want me, not really. But he didn’t want some other dude touching me.

  I swear to fuck, tell me where you are right now. If he takes advantage or hurts you, I will rip him apart.

  I snorted. And typed, Fuck off. Yes, it was bitchy. But this was what was best for both of us. He didn’t want me, and I couldn’t handle seeing him again knowing how little I mattered to him. In fact, I was going to do my best to never see him again. And there was another reason. Oh, yes, if anyone ever found out about this, he’d be toast. And his poor little sister. My eyes teared up.

  Shit, I had to get away from him.

  “We should leave early for Paris,” I said. “Like tonight.”

  Bethany blew out a breath. “I don’t think I can pack drunk,” she slurred.

  “Boo, you’re already packed.”

  Then we started laughing hysterically.

  “Can I buy you ladies a drink?” a big guy dressed in jeans and a leather jacket asked. He looked like that guy from Pawn Stars and was old enough to be my dad.

  “We don’t do dudes, right, babe?” Bethany wrapped her arms around me.

  “What she said,” I slurred.

  The guy frowned but moved on.

  We both giggled. “Men are so dumb. Maybe we should become lesbians. Did I tell you about that time I kissed Ella at that Sigma party? On a dare. Girls really do have softer lips. Of course, then I went and threw up in the pool. But I don’t think it was because I kissed her. But the idea of having to hump someone to get off just doesn’t do it for me. Or having to tongue someone’s va-ja-jay. Yuck.” That last part came out kind of loud.

  There was more laughter around us.

  “Gross,” I said.

  “Right?” she said. “I guess lesbians are out.” She sighed dramatically and then sat up straight. “Oh my God. This is our song. Remember, last day of school?”

  She grabbed my hand, and before I knew it, I was climbing up on the bar with her. We lost ourselves to the beat.

  “Ladies,” the bartender was saying something. But the music was so loud I couldn’t hear him. The beat of the music was thrumming through me, and my hips moved of their own volition. My arms swayed above my head, and it felt good and so free, and then someone was tugging on my leg.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to come down from there.”

  I glanced down. It was cop.

  “Who the fuck called the cops? We’re just dancing.”

  “Hey, stop touching me,” Bethany complained. Another officer was reaching up trying to grab her hand.

  “Stop that. You have no right to touch her. We’re not doing anything wrong.” I tried to push them away from Bethany. I had to protect her.

  “Actually, ma’am, you’re under arrest for public intoxication,” my guy said to me.

  “Oh, hell no. You are not arresting me for dancing on a bar. People do it all the time. You’re going to have to come up with something better than that. When you do, then we can chat. I mean, what is it about men? You guys always want to tell us what we can and can’t do. Who we can see and who we can’t. I mean it’s a free fucking country. Right? We even have the right to vote. Have you heard about that? All you cavemen out there. I’m a smart, talented woman. I can do whatever the fuck I want. Except for business. I really suck at business classes.”

  It kind of looked like he was trying not to smile. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you one more time to please step down from the bar.”

  “Aww. You said please. See. Was that so hard? But, nope. I’m making a stand. You want me to come down off this bar, you’re going to have to make me.”

  That’s when I found myself twirling and then slipping. I was really nauseated, and my vision went blurry. Just before I passed out in the arms of the boy in blue, I whispered. “I loved him. I loved him so much.”

  The officer frowned. “Then he’s an idiot. Whatever he did, he’s an idiot.”

  I smiled and slipped blissfully into the darkness.

  …

  The next thing I knew, I woke up in the jail cell. Bethany was passed out on the other bench, and I felt like death.

  Arrested. In Amarillo. My grandparents were going to kill me. Kill me dead.

  “Open door three,” someone said. The bars creaked open, the sound grating on my brain like nails on a chalkboard. “Get your friend up, your ride is here.”

  My ride? Didn’t we have to post bail or something? I moved, not such a great idea, as my stomach was revolting in a really negative way. But the person with the voice, who I couldn’t really focus on yet, was offering a ride. Freedom.

  “Hey.” I shoved Bethany hard. “We have to go.”

  “Mom,” she whined. “It’s Saturday.”

  How the hell she knew that, I had no idea. “Get up!” I yelled. I think it hurt me far worse than it did her, but she winced and sat up straight.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked me. “Why are you yelling?”

  “We have to go,” I said.

  Her hair was flattened on one side of her head and sticking up on the other. I was pretty sure, even though ther
e was no mirror, that I probably looked worse. I felt it.

  “Where are we?”

  “Jail,” I answered.

  Her eyes flashed wide. “Oh, no. I can’t. My parents will kill me. Jail? I don’t remember what happened. What did we do?” she asked in a panicked whisper.

  I honestly didn’t know. “I seem to remember something about public intoxication,” I said.

  “We’re so screwed,” Bethany said. “Terrible people. We are officially those drunk assholes we always make fun of at school.”

  “Yep.” I held out a hand to help her.

  A female police officer was standing by the door. Her eyebrow was up. “You ladies have a nice rest?” She didn’t bother hiding the sarcasm. I sure as hell wasn’t going to call her on it. But I didn’t know what to say, so I nodded.

  “We’re so sorry,” Bethany said behind me. “I’m not sure what we did exactly, but we’re really, really sorry about it.”

  “Shh,” I whispered.

  The cop didn’t bother to hide her smile.

  “Come with me,” she said.

  Was she taking us to court? Didn’t we get a phone call or something? Why oh why didn’t I watch Law and Order? I was never really into cop shows, but that sort of thing would come in handy for something like this. I mean, I didn’t remember anyone reading us our rights.

  There was a long hallway and then another door. Just before the door was a big window. A guy handed us two small boxes. “Make sure you have everything, and then sign here.” He pointed to a line on a piece of paper.

  My purse was in one of the boxes. I checked, and as far as I could remember, everything was there. Bethany and I signed the papers.

  “Thanks,” we said. He didn’t bother to respond. Just took the empty boxes back.

  “Through the door.” He used his thumb to point to the other door at the end of the hall.

  “Where are we going?” Bethany asked. She sniffled.

  “Don’t cry,” I said. “Don’t show weakness.”

  I’d seen enough prison movies to at least know that. Except you didn’t get your things back when you were going to prison. You got them when you were getting out.

  But my head hurt so badly I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what was going on. And it didn’t help that the fluorescent lights were extremely bright and buzzing a bit too loudly.

  The door opened, and I blinked as we stepped out into the even brighter lobby. Part of me was tempted to turn around and run back to the cell, where the lights weren’t quite so bright.

  “Hmm. You two are quite the pair.” That voice. I glanced to the left to find my grandmother standing there with her arms crossed. She had that look. The one that used to send me running to my room in tears because she’d been disappointed in me. If I could run, I would have done it now.

  But the tears certainly came, fast and hard. I couldn’t help it. They just fell. And Bethany was sobbing behind me, whispering, “We’re free. We’re free.”

  Gran smirked and shook her head. “Come on, let’s get you home.” She reached out a hand to me, and I took it.

  “Don’t we have to post bail or something,” I said through the tears. “Or did you already do that?”

  She pulled me along out the front door, with Bethany close behind. “You weren’t charged. They couldn’t read you your rights, because you passed out at the bar. They basically brought you to the station to keep you safe, and to find someone to come pick you up.”

  “Oh, I bet you just loved that call.”

  “Actually, it was Cole who found where you were first. They wouldn’t let him take you two home because you aren’t related, so he called me. I will say, it was a blessing. If the police had called, I might have had a heart attack.”

  “I’m sorry.” I kept saying it. “Really.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Bethany said behind me. “It’s my fault. I had a bad breakup and had a lot to drink. Callie was just being a good friend. I honestly can’t remember what happened, but I’m pretty sure it’s my fault.”

  My gran pulled us both into her arms. “Next time you want to get drunk off your ass, do it home where we can put you to bed. And so that I know you’re safe.” That had always been the rule, even when I was in high school. I could do whatever, as long as I did it at the house.

  Of course, I’d never actually had to worry about it. I’d always been such a good girl. Right up until I’d climbed on that bar last night.

  “Yes, ma’am,” we both said.

  “All right. You two need a shower.” She pulled away from us. “And we may need to burn those clothes.”

  We climbed into the SUV, where my grandfather sat behind the wheel. Yep. This day kept getting better and better.

  He gave us a stern look, and then he busted out laughing. “You two literally look like something the cat drug in.”

  Gran slapped his arm. “Hush. They’ve had a tough enough night without you making it worse.”

  They weren’t upset with me? “Grandpa, we’re sorry. I’m sure you guys are embarrassed.”

  He shot us another grin before pulling out onto the road. “Well, other than you not taking precautions and making sure you were in a safe environment, there’s not much to be embarrassed about. You went on a bender. Happens to the best of us. Last time I had one was the night I asked your grandmother to marry me and she said no.”

  Gran slapped at his arm again. “You promised to never tell that story. And they don’t want to hear it.”

  “You told him no?”

  Gran shrugged. “He was wild back then. I didn’t trust him. Always partying. I mean, he was a hard worker. A wildcatter, doing dangerous work on the oil rigs. But when he wasn’t doing that, he was always at the bar, getting in trouble, night after night. He didn’t think I knew, but I had friends. If you wanted to have a good time, you partied with Edwin.”

  That was just all kinds of wrong. Even my messed-up brain could figure that much out. My hardworking grandpa, a wild one?

  “Until I met her,” Grandpa said. “She was working at this boutique across from the barbershop where I got my hair cut when I was in town. I saw her in the window, dressing up a mannequin. And I said—that’s the woman I’m going to marry.”

  So romantic. “Wow,” Bethany said. They’d never shared this story with me. I’d always thought of them as old. I mean, they get around fine and all, but I’d just never thought of them as ever being young.

  Gran laughed. “God, he was a mess back then. Talked like a sailor.”

  “I was a sailor. Or I had been. Was in the Navy for ten years. And when I left, I went to work for my friend’s dad learning the oil business from the ground up.” This part of the story I knew. But for some reason, I’d always thought my grandparents had met at some party or something.

  “For a year, well, off and on, when I was in from the fields, I’d ask her for a date. Probably thirty or forty times,” Grandpa said. “Every time, she told me no. Then one night, I waited while she closed up the shop. I’d been watching her.”

  “Stalker,” Gran said.

  He chuckled. “Probably would be called that these days. But every once in a while she’d glance out the window. And then one time, I saw her smile as she was turning away. I refused to give up. So that night, after she smiled, I waited. When she came out, I asked if I could walk her home. She said no, but that I could buy her some coffee. That she had to study.”

  “I was getting my degree,” Gran said. “Working all day and taking classes at nights. And I studied all weekend.”

  “I offered to help her study. She wouldn’t go out on a date with me, but she’d let me quiz her on things. We’d drink coffee, eat pancakes—some of the best days I’d ever had back then.”

  They held hands on the console.

  That love of theirs. I had no idea where it had come from, but he’d fought for her.

  Cole hadn’t fought for me. I couldn’t hold it against him. It wasn’t just his life at stake. He had o
ther people to think about.

  “After another six months, I asked her to marry me.”

  “And I loved him, but I was busy with school. And I wasn’t about to give that up to be a wildcatter’s wife. Never knowing when he’d be home. Never knowing when we’d be together. And he just partied so hard.”

  “That first night she said no to my marriage proposal, I dropped her off, went to the bar, and got into a fight. I don’t remember who threw the first punch, but I ended up in jail sleeping it off. Kind of like you, the cops felt a little sorry for me. No charges were filed. An hour later, I showed up at her apartment. My eye was swollen shut, and I had a busted lip. And she damn near shut the door on me. But I explained to her that she’d damn near killed me by saying no. Tore me apart. A man can’t live without half of his soul. Said I’d wait till she was ready to marry me. I’d never ask her to give up her dreams for mine.”

  God. That was the way I felt about Cole. I loved him so much. Tears fell, and I left them unchecked.

  “And he didn’t,” Gran said. “He helped put me through school, and it was good we were both so busy with our professional lives back then. Neither of us felt abandoned by the other. When we were together, it was good. Really good.”

  Gran turned to the backseat to face me. “So we both know what a broken heart looks like, darling girl. But I think it’s time you told us about yours.”

  I sobbed. Bethany started crying. We were blubbering idiots. But I couldn’t tell them. I’d signed a contract.

  “Maybe we should let them sober up a little more,” Grandpa said.

  Gran watched me carefully. “Maybe so.”

  But I could never tell them about Cole. Never. I had to think fast.

  “I was flunking out of school,” I said.

  Bethany gasped beside me.

  “What?” Grandpa swerved but then quickly righted the SUV.

  “Not really flunking out. Just one class. I’m on academic probation. Or I was. I made up the class. I have to take the final today online. I have A’s in everything that isn’t business. And it was a really hard class. But I don’t think business is my thing. I’m a writer. At least, that’s what my professors think. And my advisor. I was afraid to talk to you guys about it because, you know, I’m the heir apparent. You probably hate me now.” I couldn’t shut up; the words wouldn’t stop.