Fuck, it’s a cold one today. To make matters worse, Alexis texted me this morning and said she’s too sick to come in. I’d been working her a lot lately, so I can’t even be mad about her needing a day off.
“Hey, Champs,” I say, rubbing my bare hand up his dark nose. He grunts in response, and I smile. “Ready for your breakfast?”
I’ve boarded six additional horses in the past two weeks and enjoy taking care of them during the winter months. Most of them I trained and are sweethearts, so they aren’t much extra work for me. It makes me think of the possibility of building a larger barn on the Bishop property near our house. It’d be a dream to build something that’s ours, something we can both work in and be proud of. I’d love to have a dozen extra stalls and a bigger tack room for my saddles and accessories.
I sigh. Hopefully someday.
At the rate Jackson and I are moving, I have a feeling that day is sooner than not.
I smile when I think of him and how much has changed in such a short amount of time. I don’t regret it at all, knowing that everything lined up and happened the way it was meant to. However, a small part still wishes we hadn’t wasted all these years fighting it.
But that’s all in the past now. I only care about our future and being happy for the rest of our lives.
I’m lost in my thoughts as I fill the water buckets outside. I recently upgraded to heated ones to help keep the water from freezing, so Alexis and I didn’t have to work as hard, but it still takes an eternity to fill up. I hear crunching in the distance and think Jackson must’ve stopped by, but when I turn around, I don’t see his truck.
Damn, I miss him. Hell, I always miss him. It’s a sickness really. No matter how much time we spend together or how many times a day I see him, it’s never enough. My hunger for him is an endless pit. Obsessed and possessed. It’s the only way to accurately describe it, yet I don’t even want to be cured. He owns every part of me and not having him in my life would feel empty and incomplete now.
My feelings for him were always present, sitting on the sidelines, waiting to be called out for the big game. I might’ve benched them while I was dating Trent because I thought he was the one I was supposed to marry, but as soon as Jackson made his feelings clear—the game was off. These past two months have been surreal, and even if we’re moving a hundred miles an hour, I don’t even care. It doesn’t scare me like it would in any other relationship because deep down, I’ve always known he’s the one. I want to build a horse training barn near the house, get married, and have lots of Bishop babies.
I smile at the thought. My mind often wanders while I’m working—thoughts all leading to Jackson. I still can’t believe it sometimes. I’ve waited so long that it feels like it can’t be this easy, can it? Jackson has never had a relationship in his life, and I always wondered if we ever did get together, if he’d even be able to handle something serious.
Turns out he definitely can. And to make things unimaginingly better, he’s still the same ole Jackson he’s always been, except intensely affectionate. We might be in our thirties, but we can’t keep our hands off each other like a bunch of love-sick teenagers.
Thinking about all of this makes me want to text him a sweet message. I reach in my back pocket but realize I left my phone in the barn. Crap.
The hose is still running, the bucket not even halfway filled yet. While I wait, I head into the barn to retrieve my cell and contemplate what I want to send.
Something dirty. Or sweet. Maybe I’ll send him a boob shot from my collection. I took them with the intent to tease the shit out of him.
Snickering at the thought, I step into the barn, the thin layer of ice crunching under my boots. I walk to where I left my phone, and it’s not there. What the hell? I could’ve sworn it’d be there. Maybe it’s in the back.
When I don’t find it in the back of the barn either, I figure it must’ve fallen out of my pocket on the way out to the pasture. Making my way out of the barn, a sudden cold chill goes through me.
I should get my other jacket, I think to myself. Champs starts neighing and thrashing around his stall.
“What’s the matter, boy? You—” I stop midsentence when I see a dark figure out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head to get a better look, I gasp at the sight of Trent standing in front of the barn door.
“Hello, Kiera.” His voice is distant and cold, making me tremble at the sound of it.
“What are you doing here?” I try to keep my voice level, but I’m anything but relaxed. Taking a small step back, hoping he doesn’t notice, he steps forward.
“Do you miss me?” he asks, his tone dripping with ice. “Do you?”
“Trent, I think you should go.” I try to plead with him. His eyes are empty as he stares at me. “I’m going to call the deputy if you don’t get off my property.”
His lips widen into a wicked grin, obviously not fazed by my threat. “Is that so?” He reaches in his pocket and holds up my cell phone. Fuck. “Going to be pretty hard to do, don’t you think?”
“Trent…” I tread carefully. “You need to go. Now.”
“Not yet, babe. We need to talk.”
I cross my arms over my chest to stop my body from shaking. “There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing you say is going to change anything,” I say firmly, hoping he gets the point.
“Wrong.” He reaches behind his back and under his shirt before he exposes the revolver in his hand.
“Oh my God,” I mutter. “Why do you have a gun?” I step back.
My heart hammers in my chest as horrible thoughts race through my mind. I can’t believe this is happening. Trent has never shown this side to me before, and he looks almost manic. Who the hell is this guy? There’s no way I was that blind to almost marry him.
Instead of pointing the gun at me like I anticipate, he shocks me when he puts it directly to his temple.
“Trent, wait…”
“You…” he stammers. “You did this to me.”
Slowly, I step closer. “Trent, put the gun down. Please.”
“Don’t you dare,” he spits out. “Don’t you dare pretend to give two shits about me now. You tossed me aside like last week’s trash after everything I gave you!” he screams, nearly making me jump out of my skin. “I gave you everything, you little bitch!”
“Trent, please,” I beg, tears blurring my vision. “Let’s talk. Put the gun down.” I hold my hands out, slowly creeping forward.
“I have nothing now,” he says in the saddest voice. “I lost you, and I have no fucking purpose. If I can’t have you, I’d rather be dead.”
“Don’t say that.” I manage to step closer without him stopping me and can smell the faint scent of bourbon. Great, he’s drunk too.
“It’s true, Kiera. I loved you. Without you, life just isn’t worth it.” He unclicks the safety, and my heart beats into overdrive. “And you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your life.”
“Trent, please.” I’m nearly in front of him now. “I do love you.”
“Don’t fucking patronize me,” he snaps.
“I’m not, I swear,” I quickly spit out. “I made a huge mistake leaving you. I thought Jackson was who I wanted because of our history, but I was wrong.” The words taste like venom in my mouth, but I have no choice if I want to get the gun out of his hand.
“You really mean that, babe?” His grip loosens on the gun just slightly.
“Yes, I swear. I love you. We can repair our relationship, can’t we?” I look into his cold eyes and try to find the faintest glimpse of the Trent I once knew, but he’s nowhere to be found. He’s gone completely insane.
I take the final step to reach him and slowly ease his arm down. “Put the safety on, baby.”
He obliges and watches me. I nod to give him reassurance. Just when I reach for the gun so I can slowly remove it from his hand, a piercing siren screams in the distance along with gravel crunching under tires. We both turn to look, and my heart drops when I see Jackson’s truck racing toward us. The deputy is speeding behind him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Before I can move a muscle, Trent roughly grabs me and pins me against his chest, holding me hostage in his firm embrace. He presses the barrel hard into my temple and hisses.
“Don’t fucking move or your boy toy gets the first bullet,” he threatens, and my body shakes with sobs.
“Trent, don’t…”
“If you really love me, you’d want him out of the picture once and for all.” His voice is completely void of any emotion, and I’m terrified by what that means. I have no idea what he’s actually capable of, considering who I thought he was just a few months ago was entirely wrong.
“You’ll go to jail,” I tell him. “Then we won’t be able to have any kind of future.” I hope it’s enough to make him think clearer.
“Get your hands off my—” Jackson stops mid-scream when he realizes Trent has a gun to my head.
“Laken, drop the gun!” Deputy Pettigrew shouts, pointing his weapon right at us.
Oh my God, this cannot be happening.
I feel like I can’t breathe. The air is being completely sucked out of my lungs as I try to process what’s happening right now. One click and Trent could end me. End Jackson. End all of us.
I’m more worried for Jackson than myself, knowing he’s not just going to stand back and watch Trent threaten me. I know how to play into Trent’s trap and ease us out, but Jackson won’t. He looks like he’s ready to plow Trent down, regardless of the consequences.
“Take another step, and I’ll blow her fucking head off,” Trent shouts. I cringe, the pain slicing through my body as he pushes the gun harder into my skull.
“Trent, I’m warning you…” Deputy Pettigrew says calmly. “I’ll shoot you if you don’t drop your weapon.”
I feel his chest rising and falling with evil laughter. “You think that’s going to scare me? You’ll shoot Kiera before the bullet hits me, so I know you’re full of shit.”
“Put your weapon down,” Pettigrew tries again, but honestly, it’s no use. Trent’s at a level where he doesn’t care about anything, including his own life.
“I’m taking my woman and leaving…and you’re going to let me.” Trent forces me to walk toward Jackson’s truck. “Bishop,” Trent spits his name out like it’s lava. “You’re going to give me your keys, and we’re driving out of here.
“Not a fucking chance!” Jackson’s ready to attack, but Deputy Pettigrew holds up his hand to signal him down.
“Otherwise, I’m going to make you watch me fuck her and then put a bullet between those sparkling green eyes. Once I’m done with her, you’ll be next. Except I think I’ll be aiming lower on you…” Trent pushes me forward. His lips graze my ear, and the touch sends shivers down my spine. I swallow. “You better cooperate, or you’ll be responsible for four deaths, sweetheart.”
“Trent, please don’t do this…” I whisper, pleading for our lives. “I’ll go with you willingly, just leave them alone.”
“You hear that, Jackson?” Trent cackles. “Your girl wants to come with me. Guess your magic dick wasn’t so satisfying after all.”
Jackson’s eyes narrow into deathly slits. He knows exactly what to say to work Jackson up, to give him one reason to shoot.
“Jackson, don’t!” I shout without thinking. Trent growls, and when I hear the safety click, I panic. “I want to go with him,” I force out of my mouth. “Trent and I are going to be together. Just let us go.”
I speak with my eyes, knowing Jackson will be able to read between the lines. Deputy Pettigrew, on the other hand, isn’t allowing it. I find myself wondering if he’s already called for backup, and if so, why aren’t they here yet? Did he call them off? If Trent hears them coming, he’ll shoot for sure.
“Alright, fine,” Jackson says, digging into his pocket and retrieving his keys. “Here.” He tosses them to the ground, and they land halfway between him and us.
“Stay back,” Trent warns. “You too, pig.” Deputy Pettigrew has his gun out still but hasn’t moved a muscle. I hope to God one of them has a plan, and they aren’t going to actually let me get into the truck with him.
Trent pushes me forward until we’re within reach of the keys. “Bend down with me on three,” he whispers in my ear, and I know exactly why. If I cover him, Pettigrew won’t be able to get a clean shot on him since I’ve been his personal body shield. “Grab the keys and hand them to me.” He’s holding me with one hand and pressing the cold metal to my head with the other. I swallow again, unable to get the razor blades out of my throat. I can’t think of anything else but Jackson and how Trent won’t think twice about shooting him.
“One…two …three …” I lower my body with his, slowly extending my arm out to reach for the bundle of keys. My adrenaline peaks as I lean my body forward just enough where he has to loosen his grip on me to allow me to pick them up.
Once I hold them securely in my palm, I fist my fingers to keep them in place.
“Good girl. Now put them in my left hand,” he orders. Looking up from my eyelashes, I stare at Jackson and hope he can read me to understand what I’m about to do next.
I love you, I mouth.
When I lean back, Trent’s focus is on grabbing the keys. His left hand slightly opens to take them, but instead of handing them over, I muster up every ounce of my strength and jab my elbow directly into his gut, exactly how Jackson taught me when we were younger.
He jerks back with an oomph, falling to his ass, making me fall with him. Then the whole scene unravels within seconds. Jackson tackles Trent, fighting for the gun. I want to scream, beg for them to stop, but I can’t find my voice. I open my mouth, but just like in my dreams, nothing comes out.
Deputy Pettigrew grabs me and pulls me to my feet. “Get inside my squad car. Now!” he orders, but I can’t move. I’m frozen as I watch Jackson and Trent wrestling on the ground. Jackson’s easily stronger than Trent, but that doesn’t matter when Trent is in this state of mind. He’s gone completely psychotic.
“Kiera, get out of the way…” Pettigrew warns, but my gaze is glued to Jackson. I feel so helpless and want to know why no other officers are out here to help control the situation. “Cover your ears.”
My eyes snap to him as Pettigrew raises the gun over his head. Just when it dawns on me what he’s planning, I step back, unsure of how this will turn out.
“Laken, this is your last—” The gun goes off before the deputy finishes his threat. He lowers his arm, then looks back at me then at his gun.
Oh my God.
He’s not the one who pulled the trigger.
“Jackson! No! Jackson!” Screams pour out of me, and just as I run toward him, Pettigrew grabs me and pulls me back.
I hear muffled sirens in the distance, but all I can see is my whole world crumbling around me. Falling to my knees, Pettigrew loses his grip on me, and as soon as I’m free of his hold, I stumble to my feet and rush over to where Trent is lying on top of Jackson.
“Jackson! Oh my God! Please, God no!” I scream and sob as I reach for him.
Jackson slides out from Trent’s lifeless body and grabs me with one arm. He manages to sit up and holds me to his chest as I bury myself in his neck.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s over. It’s all over. Shh…” Jackson’s voice is calming, but I’m anything but calm. Everything happened so fast, I can’t even think.
“Are you hurt?” I pull back to examine his face and body, inspecting every inch. There’s blood on him. “Are you bleeding?”
“No, baby.” I turn to look at Trent, but Jackson blocks my view with his hand, pulling my gaze back to him. “Don’t look, Kiera.” It’s all he needs to say because I already know.
Half a dozen squad cars pull up with their guns raised as they rush over toward Trent. Jackson holds me tightly in his arms as I sob. He pets my hair and kisses my face.
I know I’m in complete shock, but nothing could’ve prepared me for when they took Trent’s body away. Deputy Pettigrew gave his statement explaining that Jackson was only acting in self-defense and protecting me. There won’t be any charges pressed, but it needs to be said for the record. They want my statement next, but I’m too shaken up to even speak. They allow Jackson to take me home as long as I agree to come in the next couple of days.
Once I agree, Jackson carries me to the truck, and we drive home. We shower in silence together, kissing and holding each other. Once we’re clean, he puts me to bed and holds me as I cry myself to sleep.