Page 28 of Ride or Die

Leaning in, Tom wraps his arms around Billie, hugging her close with a low, murmured, “He won’t find us, Bil. I promise.”

“I’m scared,” Billie admits, her voice so small and fragile, vulnerable. I don’t even know these kids, but I have this sudden need that blooms deep in my chest to protect them at all fuckin’ costs.

“Want me to read you a story?” Tom asks.

Billie shakes her head, turning to look at me, her eyes curious upon their assessment. “I want Cole to read me a story.”

“M-me?” I point my thumb at myself, quirking a brow.

She nods, her sleep-mussed curls bouncing with the movement.

“Uh…” I wipe my suddenly clammy palms on the back of my jeans. I don’t think twice about hopping onto the back of a raging bull most nights, but this? I can’t recall a time I’ve ever been more unsure in my damn life.

Tom flashes me the hint of a knowing smile, grabbing something from the nightstand. A book. I narrow my eyes, reading out loud, “Freckles Goes to School.”

“Please?” Billie offers me a pleading smile, and I don’t doubt for one second that she just woke up from a horrible nightmare, but the way she’s looking at me, those puppy dog eyes and them dimples, I can’t help but think she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Yes, ma’am.” I clear my throat, walking into the room, tentative and nervous as hell over reading a five-year-old a goddamn bedtime story.

CHAPTER 10

CLARA

Icheck the time on the clock that sits behind the bar while waiting for my drinks to be made. Forty-five minutes left. I’m so ready to get out of these silly heels and home to my babies.

Last I heard from Cole, everything was fine. The kids were asleep and he was out in his barn working on his truck. But that was almost two hours ago, and my cell is in my locker in the dressing room, so I can’t do one last check.

“The more you look, the slower it goes,” a voice says over my shoulder.

I turn to see Kendra sidling up next to me, handing her order to the bartender. I like her. She’s nice.

“What are you doin’ later?” Kendra nudges me, her smile teasing. “A few of us are gonna kick on for last drinks at The Saddlery.”

“Oh, I—” I shake my head. “No, I-I need to get home.” I consider my words carefully. “Relieve the… b-babysitter.”

“You’ve got a kid?” Her eyes light up.

“Two.” I nod, unable to hide my smile.

“Aw, how old are they?” she coos, practically gushing.

“Tom’s ten, and Billie’s five.” I beam.

We’re suddenly interrupted by Maci coming in between us with an exaggerated sigh. “I swear to god.” She huffs, glaring back at something over her shoulder. “If these fuckin’ cowboys don’t learn to keep their goddamn hands to ’emselves, I’ma take off my heel and use it to castrate ’em like they do those sweet baby cows.”

I balk, looking her up and down, trying to make sense of what she just said. Not only is her accent thick, but… did she just say something about castrating cows?

“Fuckin’ calvin’ season,” Kendra mutters, shaking her head.

“I keep hearing that.” My brow knits. “What is it?”

“Busiest time of the year,” she explains. “Travelin’ cowboys migrate into town for the spring to help turn the calves out for pasture.”

“Great for tips,” Maci adds. “Ain’t nobody tip better than a drunk cowboy with a stiff one.” She glares back over her shoulder, and I see the group of four rowdy looking cowboys copping the heat of her glower. “But fuck me, they need to learn their goddamn manners.”

“You want me to get Buddy to boot ’em out, Mace?” the bartender, Kevin, interjects, placing drinks onto my tray.

Maci seems to consider Kevin’s offer before a slow grin spreads across her pretty face. “Nah, I’ll give ’em one last chance,” she says, shrugging. “Worse comes to worse, I feel like kickin’ some ass tonight.”