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That’s fucking weird, but I shrug it off. I know what it’s like to work against the clock. I chalk it up to the fact that he’s busy. “Need any help?”
“Nope,” he says, not even looking up.
He’s working on some wood, probably for another goddamn fence. I swear, half of ranching is just fixing fences.
Gray’s always been a quiet dude, but this is fucking strange. “What’s going on, man?”
He shrugs off my question, keeping his attention on the four by four laid out in front of him.
What the fuck? I stare at Gray for a solid minute, wondering what the fuck is his problem with me. I’ve been home for a little while now and other than the party, we’ve hardly spent any time together. Now he seems downright pissed at me.
I thought of all the people on the ranch I owed an apology to and might have to prove myself to all over again. But Gray wasn’t one of them.
I was wrong.
Even from a distance of ten feet, I can tell Gray is seething about something. But you know what? I don’t give a shit. He’s a grown-ass man. A fucking biker. If he’s got something on his mind, then he can come right out and say it. I’m not his girlfriend, and I refuse to beg. “Cool. See you around.”
I walk away, wondering what the hell I did to piss him off. Luckily, everyone else has welcomed me back with open arms, or else I’d wonder why the fuck I wanted to return so badly.
The electric saw sounds behind me, but I’m already making my way to the horse pasture. There I find my dad with one leg hitched up on the fence, arms hanging over the top post, watching the horses. I’ve seen him like this a million times over the years, and his image puts a smile on my face.
“Enjoying being back?” he asks without taking his gaze off the horses.
“Yeah, sure. Ecstatic.” When I hear the tone in my voice, I instantly regret it. After all Dad has done for me, he doesn’t need a whiny bitch on his hands. “I’m fine,” I say, this time at least trying to mean it.
“Then what’s got your panties all twisted up?”
“Nothing,” I spit out, but Dad’s not buying it.
“If it’s nothin’, your face hasn’t gotten the message yet.”
I grin. Dad definitely has a way with words. “It’s nothing. Just…I thought my friends and family would be happier to see me, ya know? Maybe I shouldn’t have come back.”
“Bullshit.” Dad squints into the sun as a gorgeous gray Quarter Horse stops on a dime.
“You getting’ into the horse racing game?” I ask, nodding in the horse’s direction.
“Maybe.” He turns to me, and that squint is now a frown. “I’m gonna hit you with some hard truths you need to hear, son. For one, you left.”
“You sent me away,” I correct him. “And I get why you did, but it wasn’t my choice.”
“I understand that, but you were gone because your mom and I needed to keep you safe. From what? We didn’t know at the time. All we knew was that our son killed a man. Everyone understood why it had to be done, but their lives and their hardships, traumas, and all the other bullshit life throws our way, didn’t stop just because you weren’t here. Life had to go on, had to move forward without you. You’re home now, and everyone is glad to have you back.”
“And what about those who ain’t all that thrilled that I’m back?”
“Fuck ‘em.” Dad’s brows dip into a scowl. “They’ll either get happy about it, or they’ll have a long miserable fucking life.”
“And that’s okay with you?”
“The important question is if it’s okay with you?”
I don’t answer right away, and Dad sighs heavily, not in frustration but because I know he hates these types of conversations.
“Stone, whoever isn’t happy that you’re here doesn’t fucking matter. Period. This MC and this ranch is your fucking birthright. But only if you can handle it. If you can’t, if you’re too emotional or too bothered, then tell me right now.”
I look around, and my gaze lands on the gray Quarter Horse. The black spots are mildly visible from this distance, but they stand out more on her legs. She’s stubborn as hell, just like me.
“All I ever wanted was to be like you, to lead the MC and take the helm of this place. To hand over the reins to my own kid someday.” I see the picture so crystal fucking clear. “I can handle it.”
