Noah starts the bike and turns it around as I hear Terrance’s voice behind me. “See you soon, Tiernan.”

And Noah races off, taking us back down the mountain.

But as we speed away, I look behind me one more time and catch sight of Kaleb still standing in the same spot. Staring at Terrance as he clutches the gun at his side.

Tiernan

We haul ass back to the house, Noah screeching to a halt next to his father’s truck. I crash into him as the rear tire lifts off the ground.

What the hell is the matter with them? As soon as the bike lands again, I jump off and head for the house.

But Noah is quick behind me, grabbing my wrist again.

I jerk away. “Get off.”

“Where were you?” Jake demands, walking over to us.

But I keep walking, slipping the flannel back on to cover myself. “I need a shower.”

I did nothing wrong.

Jake doesn’t let me pass, though. He clutches my upper arm, demanding an answer.

“I need a shower,” I tell him again, slowly twisting out of his hold.

He towers over me, and I look up at him.

“What the hell would’ve happened if we hadn’t found you?” Noah bites out.

“What do you think would’ve happened?”

“You both looked pretty close,” he points out. Then he looks to his father. “She was up at the lake with Holcomb.”

“I told you to stay away from the local boys,” Jake tells me.

I shake my head, my backpack clutched in my fist. “I went for a hike,” I explain in a hard voice. “I didn’t invite him. He showed up. Are we done?” And then I glare at Noah. “I mean, Kaleb and the rifle? Really?”

I spin around, walking for the house again.

“You left the rifle on the beach!” Noah growls at me. “You left yourself unprotected.”

“What do you think he was going to do?” I ask, spinning around. “Attack me?”

Noah’s jaw flexes, and I can’t help myself.

“He might not have had to,” I tell him, slipping my backpack over my shoulder. “I was kind of liking him.”

He advances like he’s going to come after me, but Jake shoots out his hands and stops him, holding him back. I almost smile.

My uncle turns, his patience gone. “Go get your shower,” he orders me.

I turn and head up the stairs, hearing Noah’s angry bark behind me. “You’re a Van der Berg here,” he shouts. “If you give that asshole a piece of ass, I swear to God I’ll make sure you don’t sit for a week.”

Noah.

Calm, pleasant, happy Noah.

What a surprise. And an asshole.

The horse shuffles on her feet as I brush her rust-colored coat. It’s meditative, like cooking. The long, smooth strokes. My earbuds are in, but no music plays, because I forgot to turn on my playlist when I came into the barn an hour ago.

I brush with one hand and follow it with a stroke of the other, giving the girl lots of attention. I like animals.

And Colorado. It was actually nice today. Getting out there into the woods.

It wasn’t even so bad when the Holcomb guy showed up. Of course, he was an ass. I wasn’t delusional. He’d screw me and brag and never speak to me again unless he wanted more, but…

I don’t know.

He joked with me, and I joked back. There was no illusion about what he wanted. I didn’t have to play games or pretend.

And part of me wanted it to be that easy. To not have to bond in order to connect.

Yeah, I was tempted.

I can’t talk right or say the right things, but maybe I can be soft and sweet and happy in bed. Maybe I could be loving there.

My eyes sting with tears, but I blink them away as I brush Shawnee’s mane.

They hate me, I hate me, and I hate them.

No, I stop and think, I don’t hate them. I just know I’ll fail. I can’t connect.

Leaving the stall, I toss the brush on the table with the other grooming tools, and walk back through the shop, toward the house. I kick off my muddy rain boots but keep my black hoodie on as I open the door to the kitchen and walk in. The afternoon is cooling off, and I feel rain in the air.

I hear a hiss as I enter. “That fuckin’ prick…”

I turn to close the door, but I take a quick glance. Kaleb is planted on the table, his nose bloody and his father trying to clean it up, but he grabs the rag out of his dad’s hand and holds it to his nose himself. His lips are etched into a snarl.

Did Terrance Holcomb do that to him? I was a little worried about the shotgun Kaleb had, but I suspected it was all for show. No police were here, after all.

Noah opens and closes the refrigerator, pulling out an ice pack, and I walk through the kitchen, toward the stairs.

“Get started on dinner,” Jake tells me as I pass.

“I’m not hungry.”

“We are,” he grits out.

I stop and turn my head, the two of them crowded around Kaleb, and I notice the array of other scratches, dirt, and blood on his jaw, shoulder, and hip. A pang of guilt hits me, but the other guy probably looks worse, and I didn’t ask Kaleb to do this for me.

“That’s not my problem,” I shoot back, glaring at my uncle. “You want a servant, hire one.”

He jerks his head toward me.

“And since I won’t do what I’m told,” I add, “send me home.”

I don’t belong here. This is why I’m better alone. I don’t have to feel all these things all the time. Embarrassment, shame, guilt… If you don’t put yourself out there, you don’t hurt.

Noah and Jake just stand there for a moment, and I look to Kaleb, unable to stop myself. “I don’t feel bad for you one bit,” I tell him. “You got what you deserved, because you used me as an excuse to start a fight. You weren’t defending my honor.”

He glares at me.

“Like any troglodyte male, you’re just dying to hit something. You enjoyed yourself.”

He hops off the table, leveling me with his eyes as he takes a couple steps forward like he’s going to come at me.

But Jake advances first. “You don’t know us,” he states. “You don’t come here and disrespect my home.”

“I’ve been here three days, and you have intimidated me, threatened me, and taunted me. You’ve acted like bullies,” I tell them. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to yell? Fight? Isn’t that what you said?”

“I said you’d benefit from some time here, and I was right!” Jake fires back. “You’ve got no idea how to work inside of a unit. Be part of a team. A family.”

He stalks forward, and I back into the living room as he closes the distance between us. “Let me educate you, girl,” he growls. “You’re the kid. I’m the adult. You do as you’re told, and there’s no problem. That system works for us.” He towers over me. “Just. Do. As. You’re. Told!”

I shrink for a second, but then I shake my head, muttering, “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re spoiled.”

I drop my head, squeezing my eyes shut against his attack. I’ve never been yelled at before. Ever. That fact just occurs to me, and my hands are shaking.