Page 2 of Boss and Brat
“You’re damn right you will.” He pounded his fist on the dashboard. They drove in tense silence for a few minutes before his father started again.
“You embarrassed us. Do you understand that? Everyone at church knew you were going to college. Everyone asked aboutyou. And now, what do I tell them? That my son partied himself stupid and got kicked out?”
Ethan’s throat burned. “I didn’t get kicked out. They just said I had to repeat my last year.”
“And I’m not paying for the same year twice.”
Ethan looked down at his hands. “I know. I know. I could get a loan and try again so I can graduate.”
“You know nothing,” his father snapped. “You think life is one big party. You think you can just do whatever you want and someone else will clean up the mess.”
Ethan’s eyes burned with tears, a hot flush spreading across his cheeks. “I tried.”
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t try at all. I should have made you commute like you did for the last three years. What a mistake to give you any freedom during your last year.”
Ethan pressed his forehead to the window, trying to breathe through the pain in his chest.
The drive from Chico to Foggy Basin stretched on forever, the miles smearing together like wet paint. Trees blurred into a green smear.
Every few minutes, Ethan shifted by pulling his knees up, dropping them again, and rubbing his palms on his jeans like he needed to wipe something off. He couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t breathe right. With his father in the front seat, a rigid figure of silent judgment, the vehicle shriveled.
A stretch of open fields rolled by, golden and wide, and something inside Ethan shrank. Out here, the world got bigger while he got smaller. The farther they drove from the city, the more pieces of him got scraped off and left behind on the highway.
The city disappeared behind them, replaced by long stretches of farmland and an empty sky. With every mile, Ethan’s shoulders curled in a little more. His reflection in the glass wasa stranger to the life he lived under neon lights. Out here, that version of him faded like a ghost.
A fence line whipped past. Then another. Then another. He sank lower in the seat. No buildings. No people. Just the occasional windmill creaking as if it hated being alive. A cluster of cattle appeared on the horizon, ribs showing through patchy hides. They stood motionless, staring at the road as if judging whoever passed. The vinyl stuck to the back of his neck.
The ranch road finally appeared—long, dusty, and familiar in the worst way. Gravel pinged against the undercarriage. Ethan’s pulse thudded in his throat. Every mile had taken something from him. This last one felt like it took the rest.
When they turned onto the long dirt road leading to Willow Creek Ranch, Ethan’s stomach twisted. The place looked the same with wide fields, fences stretching forever, the main house standing three stories tall and judgmental.
His father turned down the dirt road straight to the old isolated green barn. The Jeep jerked to a stop Then his father popped the trunk again and waited for a few moments, but Ethan didn’t know why he stopped here.Does he want me to carry all my suitcases to the house on foot? What the fuck is his point in stopping here?
“Get out,” he barked. “Get your shit out! You’re moving into the barn.”
Ethan blinked. “The barn?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re serious?”
“You’re damn right I’m serious. You’ll work until your college debt is paid off.”
“Work here?” Ethan asked, even though he already knew.
“Do not come home. Stay away from your mother and sister.”
“Stay away?”
“No communication with any of us. Go through Mr. Higgins.”
Did Mom and Sarah agree to this?
“Okay, then.” Ethan didn’t intend to accept the order, and would see them whenever he wanted.
His father didn’t bother looking at him when he spoke, eyes fixed on the road like it was the only thing keeping him from blowing up again. “Higgins is in charge of you now. Whatever he says, you do it.”
The words landed heavy, simple, final—no room for argument, no room for Ethan at all.
