Page 63 of Bad Decisions & Back Roads

Everything inside me recoiled.

Then went molten.A roaring heat climbed my spine so fast it made my hands shake.

My eyes flicked past him to the shadowed man lingering just outside the doorway, silent and watching.Muscle or witness, I didn’t know.Didn’t care.

When I looked back at my father, every ounce of my fear was gone.

“If you lay one hand on that child,” my voice dropped low, deadly calm, “every Hurst in the county will fill you so full of holes they’ll need a shovel to bury what’s left.”

I stepped toward him.For the first time in my life,hestepped back.

“There’s not a cop in this state who’d arrest them for protecting that sweet little girl fromyou.”

Another step.“If they somehow miss?—”

I got close enough to watch the confidence flicker in his eyes.My smile was colder than his had been.“I’ll put a bullet through your skull myself.”

One more step.Close enough to whisper.“There’s one thing you taught me well?—”

I leaned in.

“I never miss.”

ChapterTwenty-Two

GIA

I circledthe parking lot twice before finding a space.My hands still shook after that encounter with my Dad, even after taking Misty back to the house to sleep until I returned home.Chemo always took it out of her.

How could I have forgotten this big equine veterinary conference was today?I should be attending the talks.I needed the continuing education credits, but I didn’t have the right mindset to sit in a dark room for hours while someone talked at me.

The lot was jammed with unfamiliar vehicles, polished trailers, and farm trucks caked in mud.I squeezed my car into a narrow spot beside the work rigs and killed the engine.

For a moment, I sat there, gripping the steering wheel hard enough my knuckles blanched.

I needed work to drown out the receptionist’s confirmation that Misty’s insurance had been cut off.I longed to erase the look on Misty’s face from my head.And drown out my father’s voice threatening a little girl who had nothing to do with his sick crusade.Yet, his voice kept crawling through my skull like poison.

Inside, Vision Veterinary Center was chaos.

The mixed animal building—half ER and small animal clinic, half storage and treatment space for livestock—buzzed with strangers at every turn.Conference attendees clogged the halls in pressed khakis or jeans and polished boots.Their chatter bounced off the walls, bright and normal, grating against the storm raging under my skin.

I finally found Marty near reception.In her sixties, she’d always managed Vision Veterinary.Marty did everything—staff wrangling, scheduling, paperwork, and crisis control.She somehow kept the whole place from collapsing.

Relief flashed across her face when she spotted me.“Dr.Stevens.Thank goodness, you’re here.Two farm calls this afternoon.The Sawyers, then a new client up off 24.They’ve got a few goats, but one prolapsed.I wrote everything down.”She pressed a folded paper into my hand, then the emergency 911 pendant on its chain.“And the truck keys.”

“I’ll grab a few supplies out of the room.”I glanced down.“And my boots.”

“Sounds good.Text me when you’re ready to go on to the goat place so I can send them a message with the heads up you’re on the way.”Marty resumed looking at her computer screen.Her eyes darted to the phone line where a new call needed answering.

I waved and turned.Every muscle in my body locked.Air stopped.

Justin.

For one stupid, suspended second, my brain refused to make sense of what I was seeing.That was my ex-husband, standing there, smiling and chatting.

Of course he was here.Why wouldn’t he be at one of the largest equine-only vet conferences on the east coast?

What my brain couldn’t process was the petite blonde curled against his side.My old tech.Amy’s hand was tucked comfortably in his.