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Rosie Dixon is my last link to life before this nightmare.
And her father is the one who falsified the evidence that led me to this place. I also believe he must be the one who sent me to solitary confinement for an indistinguishable number of months.
Fuck Rosie Dixon.
Fuck all the Dixons.
PRESENT DAY
The bull underneath me bucks wildly. I grip the leather strap, keeping my other hand high as my body is thrown into the air and whipped back down again. The smell of cow shit, mixed with the mud from the rain over the weekend, fills the air.
“That one’s a winner,” Cash says from the side of the steel pipe fence.
My thighs grip the sides of the animal, clenching his back to stay on for dear life. I hear the buzzer right as my cowboy hat flies off. I reach my hand back down to hold on with the other one. One of the ranch hands rides up next to us on a horse and releases the flank strap. The bucking immediately slows, but he’s still pissed that I’m riding his back.
I slide off to one side as he pivots the other way, running for the fence and easily sliding through it. The adrenaline shooting through my bloodstream is a high I spent my early twenties chasing. Now, I use it as a distraction.
I look over toward the main house and the long driveway from the county road. There’s still no sign of Rosie’s car.
“What time is it?” I ask Sterling.
The cowboy working the chutes runs over with my hat and hands it to me. I place it back on my head. I use the bottom of my shirt to dry the sweat on my brow.
“Eight thirty. And, no, she ain’t here yet.”
I throw my brother a look, but there’s no use in telling him to shut up. They’ve all caught on that something is happening between me and Rosie even if it’s just sleeping.
The sound of tires crunching gravel draws my attention toward the driveway. An unfamiliar black Lexus is coming down toward the main house. I start walking toward it, flanked by Sterling and Cash. My stomach is in knots as the car parks and a woman steps out. She’s older, in her early fifties. She’s classically beautiful with silver-white hair. She’s dressed in creamy-white slacks and a matching button-up blouse.
“Hello. I’m here to see Rosie. Is she here?” she asks, holding out her hand to me with a tight smile. “I’m June Clancy, her aunt.”
I extend my hand to shake hers. “Rosie hasn’t been here since Tuesday.”
June’s face is stricken as she freezes in place. “What?”
The alarm bells in my head start ringing as I step toward the woman. “When did you last see her?”
She shakes her head, blinking in confusion. “I haven’t seen her in years. We spoke on the phone, and we texted back and forth the last few days. She never showed up to her father’s when we were supposed to meet. She said she would be here, working.”
My heart beats loudly in my ears as my throat begins to close up. The ice-cold fear that something has happened to her washes over me, surging me forward. I grab June’s upper arms, jerking her toward me. She shrieks in fear.
“What happened? What was Rosie so worried about that made her leave?”
June’s eyes widen and grow watery as she gapes up at me. “I—I have no idea what happened to her! We were supposed to meet at her father’s house on Tuesday evening, but she texted me and said she was too tired.”
I release her, spinning around and stalking up to the main house. “Then what?” I call back.
I hear her footsteps, along with Cash’s and Sterling’s, trying to keep up with me.
“Then, by Friday, I tried calling her, but she didn’t pick up. She texted and said she was feeling sick. The last thing she texted was that she’d be here today, working, and I could come see her.”
“Why was she meeting you in the first place? What happened with the Dixons?”
“Her mother is missing. She’s … been missing for weeks.”
Why didn’t she tell me? Did she go looking for her?
The unanswered questions shoot through my mind. I clench my fists, feeling the urge to hit someone. As soon as I reach the front door and open it, I call out for Dolly.
