Page 138 of Reckless Skye

TJ tightened his arms around her, whispered, ‘Relax. We won’t let anything happen to you.’

‘Ryan.’

Janey only had to say his name once for Ryan to understand. He went inside, and if Skye wondered what for, she didn’t have to for long. Ryan came out, a shotgun in his hands. He sat back down next to Janey, casually, calmly.

The tension climbed to an unbearable level as the truck came to a stop in the driveway. Although she couldn’t find the breath in her lungs to say it, Skye knew it wasn’t Holden. He wouldn’t drive a truck.

The headlights cut.

To all their surprise, Matthew Savage got out of the driver’s side.

Skye relaxed.

He sauntered up to the porch steps, his black hair gleaming under his cowboy hat, which he swept off his head to greet them. ‘Evening.’

‘Savage, what the fuck?’ TJ asked. ‘We coulda shot you.’

Matthew’s eyes glinted with humour. ‘That the way you greet folks these days?’ His grin was a quick flash of white teeth and wicked charm.

‘After the day we’ve had, it holds some appeal,’ TJ replied.

Matthew’s grin died quickly. He tapped his hat against his thigh. ‘So, look. I have the kid.’

Their collective gazes snapped to the truck. Sure enough, the kid sat in the passenger seat, looking terrified.

Beneath her, TJ went rigid. He grabbed her arms, preparing to nudge her off so that he could stand.

But Skye dead-weighted, using her small body to counteract his back strength. ‘Stop,’ she said.

‘He could have killed you,’ TJ bit off.

Matthew nodded. ‘He could have. He wouldn’t have meant to. But he could have.’

‘Why did you bring him here, Savage?’

‘I promised him no cops.’

TJ made a rough sound in the back of his throat. ‘Why the fuck would you do that?’

‘TJ,’ Skye interceded. ‘Just listen.’

‘He cut your fucking saddle off!’ TJ argued. ‘He took a knife to Smokey!’

That just about killed her. But Skye knew, better than anyone, just how trapped a child could be by an adult who had all the power in the world over them – experience, intellect, strength, money, connections.

She raised her knuckles to TJ’s face, brushed them over his scruff. ‘Maybe he didn’t have a choice.’ When TJ shook his head but didn’t argue, Skye looked back to Matthew. ‘We’ll listen. But that’s all we’ll promise.’ Because whatever his story, he had cut her horse.

‘Good enough for me.’ Matthew turned. With a loud whistle and a wave, he indicated for the kid to come.

They were all eerily quiet as the boy opened the passenger door and stepped into the night. He approached slowly, his muscles tensed and ready for anything, his eyes scanning, she knew, for escape routes.

Skye couldn’t even find it in herself to be angry. She just felt sad. Because she knew exactly what that felt like.

As the kid drew closer, TJ noticed things he hadn’t from a distance earlier. The boy’s sneakers were painfully white, but they were old too, the soles worn down, the laces frayed. The kid’s sweatshirt and sweatpants were crumpled and dirty on the right-hand side only, as if he’d slept on the ground on that side. The very adult glint of anger in his eyes was offset by a face that hadn’t even lost all its baby fat yet.

Matthew placed one hand on the kid’s shoulder and propelled him the rest of the way. ‘Rhett King, these are the Joneses. I think you have some things to say to them.’

Rhett’s eyes flickered to Skye and dropped. He hung his head. Oddly, the first thing he said was, ‘I’m sorry I hurt your horse. I didn’t want to.’